02 June 2001 - Main Street, Woburn, Massachusetts
The crowd packing the reception space hopped in time to the beat of the music, hands in the air. Otis Day and the Knights’ version of “Shout” had everyone reenacting the Delta House dance scene from Animal House and laughing while they did so. Charlie handed a loyal fan her microphone at the end of the song. He shouted “‘Wait till Otis sees us!’” to the crowd; the rest of the crowd yelled back “‘He loves us!’” completing the quote. The band laughed and clapped.
The reception space, Frangelico’s, agreed to host Charlie Flair and the Queens’ last Boston-area performance; the band’s normal venue, Bentley’s Pub, was next door but didn’t have the capacity for the anticipated crowd. The crowd which turned out to bid farewell to their favorite cover band shocked the managements of both locations, nearly exceeding Frangelico’s capacity of five hundred. Dom Frangelico was glad he’d made the deal with his neighbor for fifty percent of the night’s door receipts and seventy-five percent of the bar receipts; that total would far outpace a normal night’s earnings given the size of tonight’s crowd.
Charlie and the band were all smiles watching everyone have a good time; the band’s good feelings overcame the sadness they felt at ending a successful ten-plus year run. While discussing their set list, the band decided to let the member who wouldn’t join them in Provincetown perform the final song.
“Hi, everyone,” George Adler said to the audience just after one in the morning; they roared back their response. “Like Charlie said at the beginning of the show, we’d like to thank you for coming out to our last Boston-area performance.” More cheering. “While everyone else will play the final appearances in Provincetown this summer, I will not.” Startled gasps echoed through the room. “I’ve been offered the chance to go on tour with Kelsey Goodacre as a guitarist starting next week.” Murmurs joined the gasps; Kelsey Goodacre was a major star, having successfully blended her country roots with an edgy rock sound over the past three years. “Sadly, that means that tonight is this grumpy old man’s final performance with his friends.”
“My friends have offered me much encouragement over the years I’ve been playing with them, including encouraging me to grab this new opportunity. One other thing they’ve offered me is the opportunity to pick tonight’s final song.”
“This song was released back in 1984, during my junior year at Northeastern. Anyone who grew up around Boston then should recognize it, especially if you listened to WBCN like me; it was still getting airplay years later, so some of you children might recognize it, too. I didn’t really understand the meaning of the lyrics then, nor do I now other than maybe an innuendo or two, but I’ve come to my own interpretation of them. Some of the lyrics are obvious and fit tonight: the singer doesn’t want the night to end. I don’t want tonight to end either, but we’ve been playing for over three hours and it’s nearing Last Call.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, from their album Stare At The Sun, this is ‘Don’t Say Goodnight’ by Jon Butcher Axis.”
The roar of those who knew the song drowned out part of the song’s intro but they quieted before the lyrics started; Jeff recognized the song once they did. George’s strong voice belted out the tune while his fingers worked their magic on the driving guitar’s sound.
When I was a boy but not quite a man
We’re dealin’ with life just as best as can
Never can tell me if friends could fly
It’s not that we’re scared
Those who knew the song sang along with the band; the majority singing added their voices to the main part of the song while some chose the background (Don’t say goodnight) line.
(Don’t say goodnight)
I can’t hear you say (Don’t say goodnight)
Please, don’t let me say (Don’t say goodnight)
No no, no no
Don’t say goodnight (Don’t say goodnight)
Night night night
(Don’t say goodnight)
(Don’t say goodnight)
By the end of the song the audience’s singing drowned out the band’s, but no one cared. The cheering at the end of the set shook the rafters of Frangelico’s and went on for minutes while the band took their final bows; they stepped off the stage to receive congratulations from their families before saying goodbye to their fans, some of whom had been following them since their first show in 1990. It was like being at a political rally where everyone wanted to shake hands; the band made sure they made time for the people who’d supported them.
“You’re leaving Malden Hospital then too, George?” Jeff asked his former patient while the band packed their equipment.
“Sadly, yes; they’ve been really good to me since I dried out. My last day was Friday. They gave me two weeks’ vacation time in lieu of notice.”
“How did this chance come up?”
“Miss Goodacre and her band overheard some of the people who work at the FleetCenter talking about our shows last week when the tour was in Boston; I guess the people there are fans and were talking us up something good. Our show last weekend was an early show on Saturday and the tour had an off-day due to scheduling. They figured ‘what the hell?’ and drove up to see us.”
“She and the band came up to the stage to talk to us after the gig was over that night. Her lead guitarist’s wife has cancer; he’s leaving the tour to be with her while she has surgery and chemo. He told me I’d make a good addition to the band if I was interested.”
“When will you start with the tour?”
“She’s playing outside of Portland this weekend. When her tour drives back down 95 they’ll pick me up. The next show is in Albany, but I won’t start playing with them until we get to Indianapolis next month so I can learn her songs a little better. I’ll be playing rhythm guitar for now.”
“Are you worried about crawling back into the bottle while you’re touring?”
“It’s a dry tour,” George remarked. “Kelsey’s in recovery also as you know. It’s part of our contracts that we won’t drink on tour; anyone caught drinking is bounced from it.”
“‘Kelsey?’ You’re already calling your boss by her first name?”
“She’s the one who told me to!”
“We’re sorry you’re leaving so soon, George, Keiko and I,” Jeff offered, speaking for his wife who was tucked up against him. “Keep in touch when you can.”
“How’s life on the supervisor’s truck?” Jeff asked his former partner over the phone.
“I’m really enjoying it. I like the different problem-solving that goes on, the different kind of interaction with people at facilities I’m seeing, supporting the crews. It’s cool.”
“How long has it been now?”
“It’s only been three weeks. I started training on June first with Pete DiFranza; Pete says I’m doing well and figures I’ll be on my own by the end of July.”
“Quick!”
“Well, you kinda cleaned them out when you took that bunch of supervisors west. They have shifts to cover.”
“Does three qualify as a ‘bunch?’”
“I don’t care; it’s given me another chance for a change.”
“What about the guys from Station Five?”
“Nick’s just made the list for promotion to Deputy Chief; Barry Anderson’s moving up to captain, though he’ll be moving to Engine One; Paul Giaconti and Stan Williams are retiring.”
“The band’s breaking up.”
“It is,” she sighed. “All I can do is try to make sure Medford gets the same level of care as before.”
“Crack that whip, Shawna.”
“I bet I know what kind of image just popped into your head with that statement. Get your mind out of the gutter, you.”
“It’s great to finally meet you, Jeff. We’re glad you could come out,” Sacha Cohen, Ph.D., said while she shook hands with him.
“My pleasure, Dr. Cohen. The CEO of the company and the person who developed its technology didn’t have to pick me up, though; I could have taken a cab.”
“‘Sacha, ‘ please. I can hardly ask our company’s largest single private investor to stand on titles or take a cab, especially when you’ve given so generously!”
“Good timing, Sacha; it was just good timing. You contacted Mom just after I’d come into some free cash and I loved the concept, so a win-win all around.”
“How is your mother? Is she still at Thompkins?” Sacha waved Jeff to the town car they would take for the ride to the headquarters of Neptune’s Forge, located just west of Luke Air Force Base in Glendale, Arizona.
“She’s still there and doing very well, thank you. Next year is going to be her last, though; I think she wanted to get to thirty years in teaching before she retired. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day where she wouldn’t be a teacher.”
“Is she planning on anything for her retirement?”
“Being a more-involved grandmother to her five grandkids while Dad keeps working; he figures he’s still got another five years or so in him.”
“How many of the five are yours?”
“Three. Keiko and I have twin boys who are going on four and a half; our little girl just turned three last week, which is why I asked to come here this week. My younger sister has two: a son who is fifteen and will be a sophomore in high school this year and a six-year-old.”
“Big spread.”
“Matt’s technically her stepson, but he’s been calling Kara ‘Mom’ since she married his father in ‘94.”
Sacha smiled. “Your dad’s a mechanic, right? Owns a place on Belchertown Road?”
“Right. He’s been a mechanic since ‘68 and bought the garage in ‘75. The place didn’t have a good reputation when he bought it, but he renamed it ‘Valley Auto’ and turned that reputation around quickly through hard work; Mom and Dad made sure we understood the value of hard work growing up. Dad still enjoys ‘tinkering’ with the cars, though he’s grumbling at the amount of electronics in them now.” Jeff gave a low whistle when he caught sight of their destination. “That’s a serious-looking fence, Sacha.”
“We’ve got some serious kooks we’ve got to worry about,” she replied. “Between the folks who think we’re going to literally set the world on fire, the people who think we’re going to open a portal to hell, the people who think we’re going to use up all of Earth’s water, the people who don’t like the pork derivatives in the pre-stage filters...”
“‘May you live in interesting times.’”
“We could do with a little disinterest now and then.”
“I can withdraw my family’s support if that would help?” Sacha looked at him in horror. “Kidding, Sacha! Kidding! Sorry, I won’t make any more jokes. I promise.”
“I’m only a few years older than you! I don’t need a heart attack at forty!”
Jeff chuckled at her reaction. “If it makes you feel any better, we’re not going anywhere. And your ‘experimental’ model has been running continuously since we installed it in ‘98.”
“We’d really like that unit back, Jeff,” Sacha said. “Our engineers want to tear your furnace down and see what kind of wear there is if any; the fact you haven’t experienced any major issues with it far exceeds their best-case scenarios!”
“Well, I almost hate to give it back, but that would allow me to store all my lawn equipment in the shed you guys built for it once it’s gone.” Sacha laughed. “I like that you can reassemble major components of the 102 on-site to allow for basement access in existing homes, too.”
“Come on in and meet the engineers, Jeff,” she said while exiting the car. “They’ll get you started on your 102HF operator’s training.”
Three days later, Jeff felt he could take the new furnace apart and put it back together blindfolded. He impressed everyone at the company with how approachable he was; many there had been nervous about meeting someone who personally owned one-tenth of their jobs, but he put them at ease right away. Jeff admitted he didn’t understand how the concept of the original ‘20s technology developed into fusion technology, but as long as it worked he didn’t care.
Jeff spent a full day with the engineers and design team answering their questions about the XV5 unit currently at the house. At his insistence he also spent a full day on the assembly line, speaking with the people who put the units together; that gave him a sense of the pride they had in building something which could allow the U.S. its energy independence again.
He cemented his reputation there when a new employee’s coverall got caught in the machine she was training on; it started pulling her into the machine’s rollers by her sleeve. The result would have been a slow, gruesome and horrifying death. While Jeff was talking to the senior operator of the machine, he noticed the woman struggling to free herself as she was drawn closer to her demise; the noise on the line hid her cries for help. Knowing he was standing next to the emergency kill switch, he punched it without hesitation.
Horns hooted, bells rang and rotating red lights flashed while the entire assembly line ground to a halt. The man Jeff was speaking with spun around to see what had happened and his eyes widened; the man pulled a folding knife out of his pocket and cut his trainee’s sleeve to free her. The woman collapsed to the floor, shaking, while the adrenaline in her system dissipated. Jeff knelt next to her and examined her arm, making sure there were no injuries. The managers came running, fearing that the VIP managed to get himself killed; instead, they found him talking to one of their workers, trying to calm her down.
After everyone stopped trying to talk at the same time, the woman told the plant safety officials what happened. She said she’d noticed the Velcro of her coverall’s cuff was loose just as the adjustment tab became caught in the machinery. The safety manager said on the spot the plant’s next sheet metal run was to be used to fashion guards for all machines to protect against a similar occurrence.
Sacha and her management staff were effusive in their praise and gratitude, as was the shop foreman; Jeff downplayed his role, saying he was in the right place at the right time.
“Jeff, anything you want, anything at all, it’s yours,” Sacha said at the end of the day.
“Sacha, really, I don’t need anything from this,” he insisted. “I’m just glad Karen’s okay.”
“Jeff, this isn’t just coming from me. Everyone here is insisting we honor you in some way!”
“Just promise me those guards Earl’s insisting on are the next thing this plant produces and we’ll be square.”
“That’s already on the agenda,” she assured him. “There has to be something we can do to thank you.”
“Well, my in-laws will need a new furnace...”
Mayumi and Hiro’s new house on Hilltop Road slowly became their new home during the month of August. All of the niggling little details which helped them buy the house for a reduced price were corrected one-by-one; the “fit-and-finish” of the place, as Jeff described it, received a needed facelift while the work was completed. Hiro and Jeff had a spirited disagreement on the subject of the 102HF when it arrived. Jeff out-stubborned his father-in-law and eventually convinced him to accept the unit as a housewarming gift, albeit an extravagant one. The fact that Neptune gave it to Jeff as a gift was not mentioned to Hiro.
Mayumi rolled her eyes to her daughter, both laughing at their men behind their backs. Mother and daughter brought the kids along while they hunted for items at antique shops and yard sales which would give the house a New England country feel. Sabrina was disappointed when her decorating suggestions were not followed; a beach-themed house in the middle of a forest struck her mother and grandmother as a bit incongruous.
Towards the end of August, Hiro asked to borrow Jeff for a task back in Spokane. Keiko raised an eyebrow but agreed to what her father said would be a “brief” return to her hometown two weeks before Labor Day. She didn’t see the garment bag Jeff packed for the trip.
“Hi, Keiko-chan,” she heard over the phone three days later.
“My beloved, how are you?”
“Doing just fine, and looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
“You and Father are returning tomorrow? That is wonderful!”
“We’ll land in Fitchburg about three tomorrow afternoon; do you think you’d be able to call the love birds and have them watch the kids while you and Mayumi pick us up?”
“Emily and Ben? I do not see why not but, why?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Keiko’s eyes narrowed; she was not usually fond of surprises, but she would give her Jeffrey the benefit of the doubt. “Very well.”
The next day Keiko and her mother waited in the small terminal at Fitchburg Municipal Airport for their husbands’ plane to arrive. A small corporate jet touched down on the runway and taxied to a spot nearby not long after three. Keiko was puzzled when she did not see the door of the plane open right away.
“Mrs. Takahashi? Mrs. Knox?” a man asked in a familiar voice from behind them.
Keiko turned to find Chester Dobson, commander of Lancaster’s VFW Post 523 and a Vietnam veteran, standing behind her dressed as if the Veteran’s Day parade were about to begin.
“Mr. Dobson?” Keiko asked in surprise.
“Yes, ma’am. If you and your mother would follow me, please?” Chester asked politely, ushering them to the checkpoint leading onto general aviation apron. Keiko looked at her mother, and the look she received told her that Mayumi knew what was going on even if she didn’t.
Once the ladies were at a certain point on the tarmac the door to the private jet opened and her father stepped out; he was wearing a dark suit and a somber look. Keiko was about to ask her mother a question when Jeff alighted. He was in his Class-A uniform, something he almost never wore. Now Keiko was more confused than ever.
The men escorted their wives to a spot closer to the aircraft. A five-member color guard appeared from behind a service truck, flags flying in the moderate breeze. A squad of veterans marched behind them. Six soldiers wearing the patches of Fort Devens’ 55th Infantry approached the plane in formation, a sergeant marching alongside directed their movements.
Keiko’s heart leaped to her throat when a flag-draped coffin appeared in the small doorway of the plane. The soldiers and veterans not attending the coffin saluted while the honor guard gently carried it to a waiting hearse; nearby civilians removed their hats and placed their hands over their hearts. Jeff led a shaken Keiko to their Suburban and helped her in. Keiko discerned the escort’s route departing the airfield, and their subsequent drive to a cemetery, but she didn’t recognize where they’d arrived. Jeff helped her out of the car.
“Where are we, Jeffrey?”
“This is the cemetery at the bottom of our street, Keiko. Ken will be close to both of our families here.”
Keiko looked at her parents, finally receiving a reply this time.
“We did not want to leave Ken in Spokane by himself,” Mayumi whispered. Hiro hugged his wife.
The graveside service was brief. Jeff and Hiro thanked the soldiers and veterans who’d assisted them in bringing Ken to his new resting place. The short drive up the hill to their properties was made in silence. Jeff held his wife outside their car after they’d parked in their garage.
“I’m sorry, Keiko. I should have told you what your father and I were doing.”
“Having Ken’s casket carried past me would have affected me whether or not I knew of your plans beforehand, Jeffrey,” she sighed. “My obsessing about it before it occurred would have only made things worse. Maybe now we can begin to introduce the children to their uncle when we visit Ken at the cemetery.”
“Now that they’re older, I suppose it would help to explain to them who ‘Uncle Ken’ was a little more.”
“We should go inside and let my parents in, Jeffrey.”
“So how are things back east?”
“You mean the whole thirty miles between Devens and Malden? That ‘back east?’”
“You’re getting cranky in your old age, Sean.”
“Bite me! I’m thirty!“
“Exactly. Married, two kids, the general manager of a company...”
“You turned thirty-two three weeks ago. What does that make you?”
“Better looking than you, for one...”
“You can be replaced out here, you know?”
“Your coffee sucks in Malden; that’s the only reason you visit DMD anyway! If you fire me, you’d have to put up with pedestrian coffee here again.” Here, in his own office, Jeff did have his feet up on the small table in what was called his “conversation area.”
“I don’t have to visit here with this division running as well as it is. Any issues you’ve seen?”
“Not really. Like Shawna and I had in Medford, our crews here have great relationships with the towns they work in. We try mixing up the crews once in a while so they can meet crews from the other towns, but there’s enough mutual aid work out here that there’s some of that happening anyway.”
“How about dispatch? Any issues there?”
“The terrain’s a little rougher out here than near the coast, but not too much. We’ve got towers on the hills ringing our towns now, so our radio system’s much improved; the towns allow us to use their frequencies when we need to, but we don’t abuse that. The only issue I see coming up potentially is that we’ll need to name both a lead road supervisor and a dispatch supervisor. We’re growing to the point where we’re going to need both. But I don’t want to become too top-heavy, either.”
“Any ideas for those two positions?”
“I’ve got an idea who’s going to apply. We haven’t posted those positions yet, and I’m still trying to sort through those potential candidates in my head. Of course, my plans could all be moot if those folks don’t apply.” Jeff shook his head. “How’s Shawna working out as a supervisor?”
Sean shook his head, too. “That girl’s a natural. It’s like she was born to be in charge of something! Her shifts run as smooth as silk. She can talk to someone with a complaint and they’ll be ready to sign a testimonial by the time she’s done. I think she’ll have my job in a few years and that’s only because the president’s job won’t be open; I don’t think Dad will be ready to retire yet!”
“How about Beth, Aiko and the kids?
“They’re doing fine. Pam’s ready for her next big adventure: First Grade! I’m not so sure her mother is, though. We’re sending Finn to a half-day preschool this year; we’ll see how that goes.”
“Still no word from Aiko’s daughter or son-in-law?”
“Nope. Good riddance to bad rubbish there. Tim, Jennifer and Emily say hi. Tim brought everyone home for his leave; they were here the past two weeks and just left yesterday. It’s kinda strange to think someone living in Italy would take their vacation here! In Melrose!“
“Well, the Riviera must get so crowded in the summer.”
“I know, right?” Sean laughed. “First World problems...”
“So how may I help the largest cell phone carrier in New England, gentlemen?” Jeff asked the two men sitting across from him in the home office.
“Simply put, Mr. Knox, CellStar would prefer to remain the largest carrier in New England,” Norm Frasier explained. “To do that, we need to continue to grow our network coverage, filling in the gaps and upgrading equipment when possible. To that end, we’d like to place a cell site on your undeveloped property next door.”
“Where, exactly?”
Norm turned to David Dunning, his chief network engineer. “We’ve brought a quick site sketch for you, Mr. Knox,” Dunning explained while unrolling a plot plan on the desk. “Hilltop Road is here, the existing access road on your property is here. The site is fairly level until you reach this point, where it drops away. What we’re proposing is to build the tower and support building here on the ridge, place a small backup generator here and landscape where necessary to hide the structures from the road. The tower will still be visible, unfortunately.”
Jeff studied the diagram. For a “quick sketch,” the map was professionally done and drawn to scale. “If I’m reading this right, the tower would be approximately seventy-five yards from our house, and the house on the other side of the site?”
“That’s right, sir,” Dunning confirmed.
“And the town’s signed off on this?”
“Yes,” Frasier chimed in. “We’ll be placing antennas for town services halfway up the tower at our cost, and providing the location rent-free.”
“Which will save the town some money while improving radio coverage,” Jeff commented; the two others nodded. “Gentlemen, the ambulance service I manage in Shirley also provides paramedic coverage for Lancaster. Radio reception is spotty at best when we go south to Worcester with a patient; adding radio service for us on this ridge would greatly improve that. Would there be a way for my company to negotiate space on your tower as well?”
“In which frequency range?” Dunning asked.
“The UHF public safety band, same as Lancaster and the surrounding towns.”
“That’ll work. We can talk about that.”
“What about power?”
“Right now we use Mass Electric line power, but we’d like to eventually move to Neptune’s Forge power generation. If they come out with a smaller model of their fusion plant, it’d be perfect; their 102HF is too big for a stand-alone pad site like this.”
Jeff’s mouth twitched. “Hold that thought,” he said while he picked up his phone. “Good morning ... Did I catch you walking into your office? ... Is the Micro ready for trials? ... I might ... A cell company looking for generators at pad sites for primary power generation ... There’s a team sitting in my home office right now asking to put a tower on the lot I own next door ... Would a 102 operator’s certificate cover the Micro? ... Lead time? ... Sounds good. I’ll call you back later today ... Thanks, Sacha. Bye.”
Jeff turned back to his guests who were watching him with interest. “How would you like to trial the new 102MX on the site next door?”
“What’s a 102MX?” Frasier asked.
“A Neptune’s Forge Model 102-Micro-eXperimental; it’s about twenty-five percent the size of an HF.”
His guests gaped at him. “You can get us one?” the engineer gasped.
“Sacha said she can have one shipped here by the beginning of October.”
“‘Sacha?’ Sir, were you speaking with Dr. Sacha Cohen? Inventor of their technology?”
“And CEO of Neptune’s Forge, yes.”
“Yes! Please!”
“If you have anyone who is a certified operator on a 102HF, Sacha says the certification will cover the Micro, also. They’ll just have to read up on the Micro’s specs and send back a short quiz to receive the endorsement.” His guests were stunned. “Leave me the proposal. I’ll give it to my lawyer’s office to review, and I’ll speak with the family in the house on the other side of my lot,” meaning his in-laws. “I’ll get back to you, hopefully soon.”
Keiko and Jeff hosted another party at their house for their friends, this one over Labor Day weekend; they had plenty of space for overnight guests and loved to entertain. They’d told their friends early so that their friends could plan ahead.
“Why do you have to fly back to Spokane, Hiro?”
“An issue with the deed to our old house. Mayumi and I will fly back next Tuesday to avoid the weekend travel crunch, handle the paperwork on Wednesday, and be back Thursday night.”
“Ouch,” Jeff winced. “That’s a hell of a turn-around. Why come back so quickly?”
“We’ve already said goodbye to the few friends we have left in the area. We’ll have dinner on Wednesday with the one couple who was out of town when we moved. We don’t want to drag things out; our life is here now.”
While Jeff spoke with her father, Keiko was speaking to one of her husband’s oldest friends. “How are you feeling, Kathy?”
“Like a house,” Kathy Stein-Jarrett grumbled. “A beached whale; a giant beach ball with legs; that girl who turned into a blueberry in Willy Wonka... “
“Kathy, you look wonderful,” her friend corrected. “You look like a healthy, pregnant female carrying your first child.”
“You sound like Jack.”
“That might alarm Jeffrey.” Kathy laughed at the joke. “Are you still due in mid-October?”
“Yes, but the kid might go without a name for a while if it’s a boy; Jack and I can’t seem to agree on boy’s names.”
“Then you do if the child is female?”
“Rachel Jessica, after our mothers. We are still in discussions over Ezekiel Henry, Henry Ezekiel or any other combination of names for a boy; there hasn’t been anything which clicks with both of us.”
“Inspiration will come, Kathy. That’s what happened when we learned we were having twins in ‘96; the choice suddenly became clear.”
“Jeff, I hope you don’t mind that I’ve handed this contract review off to our newest attorney? I’m getting too busy running the firm.”
“Not at all, Josh,” Jeff assured Josh Abernathy, senior partner of Abernathy and Associates, his long-time law firm. “I understand about overseeing a company too well these days. This person has to be good if you hired him or her.”
“Him. Thanks, Jeff.” Josh knocked on a cubicle wall in the junior associates’ office. “John?” The occupant of the cubicle rose when he recognized the firm’s owner. “John Jones, this is Jeff Knox, the person you’re reviewing the contract for. Jeff, this is John Jones, our newest contract lawyer; he comes highly recommended from a firm in Boston.”
“Good to meet you, Mr. Jones.”
“John.”
“Jeff, thanks. What brings you out from the big city?”
“I’ll let you two get acquainted and go over the contract,” Josh broke in while turning to leave. The two men waved and continued their conversation while they sat in the cubicle.
“My wife’s a nurse; she just took a nurse manager’s position at the ICU at Leominster Hospital. Lancaster to Leominster is a far better commute than Wakefield to Boston or Leominster.”
“No argument there; I did Lancaster to Medford and back for about five years. Lancaster to Shirley is much better.”
“Where in Lancaster?”
“Hilltop Road, three-oh-eight.”
“We bought three-ten last month!” John laughed. “We’re neighbors!”
“Now that the summer’s ending and our schedules will settle down, Keiko and I need to have you and your family over for dinner. Do you and your wife have kids?”
“Three. John, Junior is six; Michael is five and Tommy just turned three a couple months back. You?”
“Three also. Our twins, Alex and Ryan, will turn five in March; Sabrina turned three in July.”
“She and Tommy will be in the same class, then; his birthday is in June. What do you and Keiko do?”
“She’s an English teacher at Devens Regional High in Shirley; I’m the operations manager for a paramedic service down the street from the high school; our service covers most of the towns surrounding the base.”
“Well, let’s get to the matter at hand, shall we? What Mr. Abernathy gave me is a boilerplate contract. There’s not much in the way of unusual clauses.”
“There are a few things I’ll want negotiated that aren’t listed in the contract.” Jeff outlined what he wanted; John scribbled notes on a pad. The young attorney asked questions to make sure he understood what his client was looking for.
“It sounds like CellStar will be motivated to agree with your requests which, to me, seem reasonable; their corporate attorneys might not see things my way, but I doubt it.”
“How long do you think?”
“Two weeks? That would make it about mid-September. Like I said, they’ll probably want to get this done quickly with what you’re offering.”
Hiro and Mayumi bid Keiko and Jeff goodnight after they’d put the kids to bed on a Monday night in early September.
“Thank you again for dinner,” Hiro said while shaking hands with Jeff in the entryway of the Knox home.
“Our pleasure, Hiro. What time is your flight tomorrow morning?”
“We’re scheduled to take off from Manchester at ten tomorrow morning. We’ll see how United actually does. Are you both working tomorrow?”
“Keiko took tomorrow off for a routine doctor’s appointment; I’ll be working tomorrow night.”
“Are you staying at the house tonight?” Keiko asked her parents.
“Yes,” Mayumi confirmed. “We’re already packed, so tomorrow morning won’t be too bad. We’ll leave the house at seven to beat most of the traffic and have a late breakfast at the terminal, as expensive as it might be.”
“Call us when you arrive in Spokane,” Jeff said. The Takahashis said their goodbyes and left.
“I am so glad to have them close again,” Keiko said.
“I can tell,” Jeff responded, nuzzling her ear; Keiko giggled.
“I love you.”
“And I you, Keiko. Come over here for a second,” he said while guiding her to the living room.
“What are you doing?” she asked, seeing him pick up his iPod and plug it into the stereo. He pressed something and Yes’ “Love Will Find A Way” began playing. Keiko smiled and went willingly into his arms. Her laughter filled the downstairs when Jeff began his usual silly dance during the song.
Upstairs, Sabrina woke at the sound of her mother’s laughter. She crept to the top of the stairs and looked into the living room; she watched her parents twirl across the floor. Like the little ninja her father was beginning to call her, Sabrina glided to her brothers’ room; they were still awake. She convinced them to join her at the top of the stairs so she could show them the scene.
From the landing, they saw their mother pull back from their father and cross to the stereo. Keiko unplugged Jeff’s iPod and plugged her own in. A song Jeff was unfamiliar with began a few clicks later.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“Tracy Chapman, from the album she released last year.” Keiko gathered her husband back in her arms and began to dance again. “It is called ‘The Wedding Song.’” Jeff smiled and led her back across the floor in time with the slow, gentle music.
[...]
For you I don the veil
By your light
Others pale by comparison
I place my faith in love
My fate in this communion
[...]
Can I get a witness?
There is salvation and rapture for the lonely
Can I get a witness?
Bless this day sacred and holy
Sacred and Holy
The final verses repeated while the kids watched their parents share a long kiss; they understood what they were seeing was important, though not why.
“I love you, Jeffrey Andrew Knox,” Keiko whispered.
“I love you, too, Keiko Takahashi Knox. I have been blessed to have you right beside me in this life.” Jeff heard quiet giggles from the top of the stairs while he shared another kiss with Keiko; he felt her smile during their kiss.
“Let’s chase those little monkeys back to bed, Jeffrey,” she whispered.
He smiled back. “On three,” he whispered. “One ... two ... THREE!” The parents charged up the stairs, causing the kids to scatter.
Laughter filled the house, which was what he’d always wanted.
