Aug. 1, 19--
Two more weeks and I start school. Meg’s dragging ass telling her parents about the baby, and I’m trying not to push her.
We moved into the small house in Fairview her parents gave us. It’s tiny, but I’m not complaining. Everybody starts somewhere, and it won’t be long before we’re building that home overlooking Lost Bay.
I spent the rest of the summer with Bryant going over the details of what he’d be doing while I finished my degree. He’s not much of a scholar, but he has great trade sense. He knows just about everyone in the business down here because of his dad’s work. He already has a job with Cade Builders, and after three years as Mr. Cade’s apprentice, he can apply for his Master Builder’s license. Once he has that, it’ll give us clout with the subcontractors in the area. He’ll also get a good feel for the best specialty guys, the electricians and plumbers. We need good people who can assemble top crews.
Most of the workers’ll be migrants, but that doesn’t bother me. Those guys put their heads down and got the job done. I just need bosses who can deliver the goods on time. That’s all Bryant’s department, and he assured me again and again he’s on top of it. I trust him. We both want the same thing.
He and I drove out to South Walton one week and surveyed the work they’re doing off 30-A. Some of the developments stretch for miles inland, going way back into the pine trees with trails and lakes for canoeing and fishing. I hadn’t considered something like that, but it’s worth keeping in the idea file.
For now, we’re working off the assumption that if vacationers are headed to the coast, they want to be on the beach. So our focus is on the Gulf. But I’ll be watching to see if those places become popular with the tourists. There’s plenty of good wildlife and hunting in South County if we want to develop north into Evangeline and Corona.
Starting out, though, we’re focused on the beachfronts from Dolphin Shores through East End Beach, down to Hidden Pass. The nine Phoenician complexes will line the water like a wall, and each one will be five-star, ultimate luxury with a Gulf view.
We’ll court the high-end retailers to set up shops in them and help market the different locations. Each one will have a different feel and theme, along the lines of what they’re doing over in Vegas. It’ll take about ten years to build them all, but after the first two are up, the rest will be the gravy that sees us through retirement.
Oct. 5, 19--
Classes are going strong now—once I got over the logistics nightmare. It didn’t occur to me to drive over and map out how far apart the actual rooms were when I stacked all my classes back to back. After being early for my first class, I was late for everything else, and I’d have to hustle if I planned to graduate with honors. Professors are not impressed by tardiness.
But the coursework is a piece of cake. I pretty much covered most of the subject matter in my own independent research. Now the trick is giving the profs what they want and getting myself noticed. So many of them are retired businessmen, and I want them to pass their connections on to me.
At home, Meg is turning into a cute little pregnant lady. I was worried about her getting too attached and being lonely, but surprise, surprise—I’m the one having problems. She’s stayed tiny except for the basketball under her robe, and she’ll pull her blonde hair into pigtails and waddle around our little house making breakfast and bringing me the paper. I lie in bed and watch her, grinning like an idiot, but I don’t care. She’ll smile and kiss my head, and I try to let her leave the bedroom occasionally.
Twice I entertained the idea of letting my plan go. I could take Dad up on his offer and run the ranch. It’s a ready-made setup, and I wouldn’t have to push us so hard. I wouldn’t have to leave my family. But that isn’t what I want, and I know it isn’t what Meg wants. She’s happy to make these sacrifices now because she knows I’ll get her that house on Hammond Island. She’d never be satisfied being a rancher’s wife in Midlind.
Nope, I’m sticking to the plan, and having a baby on the way makes me more focused than ever on getting the job done.
When we finally told her parents last month, I made a bunch of big promises to her dad about how I wasn’t going to let them down. I meant them, too. Dr. Weaver really raked me over the coals that night, but I was expecting that. Meg dropped the bomb right in the middle of dinner, and he got up and took me from the table for “scotch and cigars.” Meg said she had a nice little conversation with her mom about how they planned to bankroll everything, but that was not the conversation I had with her dad.
I followed him into the living room preparing for what was coming. It was good practice—I’d be facing guys like him soon enough in the board rooms. Old suits who underestimated me because I was young, who were just waiting for a reason to say no.
“Baby on the way,” Dr. Weaver said frowning.
“Yes, sir.”
“So you and Meg were together before the wedding?”
Give me a break. Meg and I dated four years. He knew the score. Still, I played along, acting regretful. “Yes, sir,” I said, looking down.
“I don’t approve of that sort of thing, but I guess that’s neither here nor there at this point.” He took a sip of his scotch. “Did you know about her pregnancy before you got married?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, holding my tumbler. I was still underage, but I guessed we were past that now. “I wanted to tell you, but Meg said we should wait.”
“I thought you were a smart man, Bill. This doesn’t give me much evidence to support that belief.” He walked over to the fireplace. “Are you planning to let Meg make all the decisions in your marriage?”
“No, sir,” I said. “I just wanted her to be happy, and well, I hadn’t planned for this to happen. We were being careful, but… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t unspill milk.”
“No, sir.”
He stared hard at me, and a line ran straight down the center of his forehead. “What are you going to do now?”
Here goes. “I’ve thought about that a lot, sir. I’m hoping I can still follow my plans.”
For a moment he didn’t answer. Then he said, “I understand you were planning to take a pretty heavy course load. I guess you’re expecting me to step in and bail you out.”
“No, sir,” I said quickly. “I mean, I hoped Mrs. Weaver might be able to help with the baby, and I hoped she could provide some company for Meg. I wasn’t expecting you to bail me out. I’ll work and go to school. It just might take longer than I’d originally planned—”
“I don’t think you have longer,” he interrupted. “I think your idea’s a good one, and I think the longer you take to get it in motion, the more likely it will be that someone else comes in and beats you to the punch.”
You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. “Yes, sir. I’ve thought of that.”
“That’s why I am going to help you. But I’m doing it for my daughter and my grandson. You got careless, young man, and I don’t believe in rewarding carelessness.”
I nodded, keeping the relief off my face. “Yes, sir.”
“Lucky for you, I also don’t believe in letting my only daughter suffer because of your poor judgment.” He set the tumbler down, the stern face back. “But I don’t expect to see you mess up again. No coloring outside the lines. Personally or professionally.”
I looked him straight in the eye that time. “I’m committed to seeing this through, sir.”
And that was it. It was all on me to live up to my end of the bargain—which was exactly how I wanted it. I’d made my plan, and I intended to deliver. It helped Meg was covered now. I could focus.
That night in bed, Meg said she wanted to name the baby after me. It was really cool—made me feel kind of important already, even though I didn’t have anything to show for it. I kissed her, and we ended up doing it all over again.
After Round 2, she started talking about us having a John, Jr., for her dad and a Lucy for Lexy. I told her we had t
o wait. She got pouty, but her saying all that shit nearly gave me heartburn. It was like I kept telling Bryant, one step at a time. We’d get there, but we had to get on our feet first.
She could have all the kids she wanted once we made it.
Dec. 12, 19--
First semester down, four more to go.
Will came a month ago. I was right in the middle of an accounting exam. I didn’t know if that was a sign, but I managed to make it across the bay and spend some time with the two of them in the hospital before I had to turn around and drive right back.
He’s a cute little guy. I had a week before intersession started, so I spent every day watching Meg feed him and change his diapers. That was about all she did, but it was still fun to watch. I helped with bathing, but it was mainly because we were both scared she’d lose hold of him. He was like a slippery little noodle in the water, and even though she used a tiny tub with a ramp, it was nerve-racking.
Naturally, the first time Meg bathed him, he sprayed her down. She screamed, and I laughed. You can’t get a little guy naked, wet, and cold like that and not expect to get soaked. I thought about all the things she wouldn’t know about raising a boy. This could be pretty funny in a few years. Even if I do have more time then, maybe I’ll hang back and see how some of the situations play out.
Dr. Weaver came over a lot to visit, and Meg officially quit her job at the hospital. After he and I had our conversation, he eased up on me, and I was pretty sure he realized I meant business when he saw how many courses I crammed into each semester.
I noticed he looked kind of tired. Something around his eyes seemed not quite right. Weary or something. I’d be the last person to say anything to him, but I wanted to mention it to Meg. He might need to cut down on the hours now that he was a pawpaw.
Bryant was keeping up his end of the bargain. He recruited the top two contractors in South County to work with us on the developments, and working with Cade had him in the mix of specialty guys and suppliers. Just as we’d planned, all our crews would be in place when we were ready to make our pitch.
Lexy even came home for Christmas. She was having a little adventure at SCAD, I overheard. I stayed out of their conversation, but she and Meg spent hours discussing some professor she’d taken up with.
On the one hand, it was not great because I was still hoping she’d come back and work with us. Her getting mixed up with a professor could turn into her deciding to stay in Savannah permanently.
On the other hand, it was great because Lexy was just a kid. If this professor wanted to date her, no matter how hot she was, something wasn’t right. And it might make her more ready to come back and work with us.
Either way, I kept my opinion to myself. Everything would work out in its own time.
May 1, 19--
Yeah, I know I’m not the first guy to say this, but I will never understand women.
The first thing was a month ago. I got home from class all ready for a relaxing evening with my family before I had to hit the books, and Meg blindsided me saying she wanted me to slow down.
Slow down. Like that’s even an option!
We went over this a million times last year when she told me she was pregnant. I told her it was going to be hard, and we should wait to get married, but no. She wouldn’t hear that. We were getting married right away, and she would never say a word about my working or being gone so much.
Now she’s changed her mind. Well, guess what? It’s too damn late for that. I’ve already committed myself to too many people, her father included. She’ll just have to deal with it.
Then, I agreed to have a dinner party with those Hayes people she met—I was happy to do it! I don’t know where she got the idea she couldn’t have or go to parties, and Travis and Winifred Hayes appeared to be a very nice couple, if a bit older than us.
Meg took Will to her mother’s house for the evening, and after the initial cocktails and small-talk, we all sat down for dinner. That was when the fun started.
“So, Bill, I hear you’re in the development game,” Travis said.
“Trying to be,” I answered, being friendly. “At the moment I’m up to my neck in classes, getting my business degree.”
“How long do you have left on that?” he asked, like it was his business.
“The goal is three years, but I’m hoping to shave that down to two and a half. So far, I’m on track.”
“Two and a half years!” He looked stunned, which I liked. “That sounds like it might be a record.”
I shrugged. “I don’t care about record books. I’m just focused on getting it done.”
“And you’re working with someone?” He stabbed the carrots Meg had made, and I noticed the ladies weren’t talking. That was my first clue something was up. Still I played along with his twenty questions.
“My friend Bryant Brennan,” I said. “His dad’s got connections in the construction field, so he’s working on making contacts there and getting crews in place while I finish up at school. So far he’s ahead of me.”
“Very interesting. I find that line of work fascinating.” Dr. Hayes chewed a bit, and I figured we were done. Not quite. “Is this project of yours something you came up with on your own?”
I nodded. “Pretty much, but it’s nothing new. You only have to look around to see development approaching us on all sides. We’re just trying to catch the wave.”
His eyebrows rose. “I guess that’s the sense of urgency.”
“I’m so impressed by how committed you are to this project,” his wife jumped in.
I glanced at her before answering. “Our commitment is what’s going to determine how far we go.”
Meg joined the conversation now, seeming a little nervous. “Billy’s been planning this out since we were juniors in high school. He and Bryant have it all mapped out.”
“Isn’t that something!” Winifred said. “And Meg, you said he basically puts in 60-hour weeks? How long can you keep that up, Bill?”
Mrs. Hayes was starting to annoy me. “I’ll keep it up as long as I need to,” I said. “For now I’m looking at two more years.”
“Winnie, don’t pester the man. He’s got a plan.” My eyes went to her husband, but I couldn’t tell if he was patronizing me or not. Meg looked uncomfortable.
“This pasta’s great, Meg.” I decided to change the subject.
“Tell me about your boy, Bill.” Travis sounded like Dr. Weaver now.
“Not much to tell. He’s about six months old, so he’s not doing much yet.”
“I thought six months was when all the magic happened,” he smiled at his wife. “When they start doing all sorts of things.”
“You’re the doctor,” I replied. “I guess you would know.”
“Yes, but you’re here with him. Has he smiled at you yet?”
I shook my head. “Not really. But he goes to bed early, so I only see him about an hour every night. And then he’s usually eating or bathing.”
“That’s too bad.” Dr. Pompous Douchebag said. “Can’t get those days back you know.”
I’d had enough. “You’re an intern, right, Travis?” I asked.
“That’s right,” he said, looking smug.
“So you guys are waiting to have children?”
“Well, we’re not waiting on purpose,” he said. “We’ve just been having a little difficulty.”
“What’s the matter, Travis? Shooting blanks?” I was being a dick, but I had a reason.
“I’m sorry?” He put his fork down.
“I guess that’s none of my business,” I said.
“I’d say it’s not.”
“Kind of like what’s going on in my family’s none of your business.”
That shut his interfering mouth. The rest of the dinner was dominated by the girls’ discussing their upcoming DAR functions and Art in the Park. When they finally left, I was more inclined to talk to Meg.
“I’m sorry,” she said after we’d gone to bed. “Trav
is was way out of line tonight.”
I pulled her onto my chest ready to make peace. “It’s not your fault. I just don’t like you being influenced by people like that.”
“Influenced is the wrong word, I think.”
I combed my fingers through her soft hair. “What would you say?”
“Enlightened?” She sat up and faced me then.
I frowned. “I don’t get your point.”
“Well, they were meddling,” she looked down, “but I do agree little Will should’ve smiled at you by now. I worry you’re missing a lot of time we won’t get back.”
“We went through this last month,” I said, getting angry again.
“But you didn’t let me finish,” she pressed. “You just shut me out.”
“I’m not shutting you out. You’re not listening.” I paused to soften my tone. I didn’t want to fight with her, I wanted to help her get her eyes back on the prize. Remind her of the things she wanted, the things I was working so hard to give her. “We’ve got to keep going like we planned. Don’t you want the big house on the island? Aren’t you excited about being married to the most important developer in South County?”
“Of course,” she said, studying her hands in her lap. “But your plan is not going to disappear. You could still do it and spend time with us.”
I reached over and covered her hands with mine. “That’s where you’re wrong, Meg. If I slow down, someone will come in and beat me to it.”
She didn’t like it, but I knew I was right. And I hoped this phase she was in would pass. I didn’t like the pressure she was putting on us, and the more she pushed, the more I saw us growing apart.
June 22, 19--
Asking Lexy to attend Meg’s second dinner party was a stroke of brilliance. She was definitely a positive influence on my wife, and she was deceptively tough. Those Hayes jackasses didn’t stand a chance against the two of us. We shut their stupid mouths.
Watching her maneuver her way through Travis’s thinly veiled barbs solidified my decision to get her onboard with Kyser-Brennan. I’d had a few brushes with investors so far, and they lived to eat your lunch and test your strength. I’d learned to be on my toes, and Lexy seemed to be a natural at it. Where she got it from, I didn’t know, but she could definitely hold her own. I imagined Bryant, Lex, and me entering a board room and smiled. We might look young and inexperienced, but those suits had better be on their toes.
Undertow (Dragonfly) Page 21
