City Boy (22 page)

The Cubs game was the next day, Friday. Jack was to meet Ed and Allison at their hotel and stop by Chloe’s office before they made their way to Wrigley. Chloe had begged out of the ball game. She didn’t pretend to be interested in such things, and besides, ditching work on a Friday afternoon was bad form for management trainees trying to exude the Right Stuff. After the game, they’d all meet back at the apartment for dinner, which would be casual. Burgers on the grill, potato salad, nothing that would lend itself to conversations about cooking skills, something Chloe was sensitive about. “Mom already thinks I’m some kind of kitchen slut because I buy bottled salad dressing. Fine. Let them eat burgers.”

Jack took the bus downtown to the hotel. The day promised to be hot but not wilting. There was a fresh breeze off the lake and an actual blue sky instead of the usual cement-colored pall. Somewhere beyond his view, tourists were presented with the marvel of the lakefront, its layers of water, beach, green park, highway, and skyline, the best of the city served up like some grand dessert. Buckingham Fountain threw out its arcs and fans of bright water. Even the tame river had a sparkle to it. It was the finest summer day Chicago could offer, and Jack had to allow that there were worse things than heading out to the ballpark with the rest of the city’s pleasure seekers.

Ed and Allison emerged from the hotel elevators wearing hats. Ed wore his Cardinals baseball cap as a joke (the Cubs were playing the Brewers, so Jack hoped it might escape notice), while Allison had selected a modish brimmed straw. They both wore khakis and polo shirts. Jack liked them for that, for dressing up together. In the cab over to Chloe’s office, he sat in the back with Allison while Ed rode shotgun, his arm draped across the seat. High-rises turned the streets into shadowy canyons. Ed gave each block an appraising look and
asked Jack questions that he couldn’t answer about property tax structures. Ed nodded in disappointment and swiveled around to face them. “Chloe works too damned hard,” he pronounced. “I don’t see why she can’t come with us.”

“Because she doesn’t want to,” said Allison. “Don’t be pestering her, besides, she has obligations.”

“She has what?”

“A career.”

“My daughter, the banker.”

“Would it kill you to be supportive of her?”

“Who said I wasn’t? It just takes some getting used to. When I was in school, girls mostly got education degrees. Because they always need teachers, right Jack? That way they had a little flexibility, and they didn’t have to knock themselves out working.”

“She wants to distinguish herself,” said Allison. “She has ambitions. Come on, Ed, why don’t you just walk around wearing a sign that says, ‘I don’t get it.’”

“Christ, she’s already distinguished. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s got Jack to keep her feet warm at night. Now, Jack, that didn’t come out right. What I meant was, she’s not alone in the world.”

It was a short cab ride, but by the end of it Jack was pretty sure where he stood in the rankings.

Chloe met them downstairs in the lobby, smiling her best. “Hey, guys, I have to have you sign in. How was the hotel? You sleep okay?”

“Fine and fine,” said Ed. “Do you know you can order a fitness kit from room service? They send up a jump rope, exercise mat, towel, and a bottle of water. You think I’m making that up but I’m not.”

“I like your suit,” said Allison. “We should have dressed better to come here, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Chloe’s office was on the ninth floor. The building’s public side, its facade and entrance, was grand enough, all the architecture money could buy, but they stepped out of the elevator into a long, corporate barracks of a room. Secretaries labored in a center row of cubicles; hutchlike offices lined the outer walls. One of these was Chloe’s. There
was nothing fancy about any of it, but that worked in its favor, as if everyone here was too engrossed in serious business to pay attention to their surroundings.

“Come on, I’ll give you the cheap tour.” Chloe led the way. Her parents followed and Jack brought up the rear. He hadn’t been up here often, a time or two meeting her after work, but he already knew there wasn’t much to see. Chloe was covering ground, smiling back over her shoulder to make sure the others kept up. People glanced at the little procession but no one greeted Chloe, nor she them. Jack watched the faces as she passed. Something in them seemed to close down, was even unfriendly. He gave thanks once again that he didn’t work in the corporate world.

He hadn’t been in the building since Chloe had all the problems with the junior-grade asshole who must be around here someplace. Jack made a point of glowering into every office they passed. Chloe had refused to tell him a name or any details, so he was free to imagine which one of these dressed-up punks liked talking sex with his wife. But it was almost lunch hour, there was a general emptying out as people began thinking about sandwiches and getting a good spot in the sun of the courtyard. And none of the men he saw looked either flashy enough or creepy enough to match his mental picture. He told himself to forget it, stop clawing at the itch. He didn’t enjoy jealousy. He was too good at it.

Chloe reached her office and halted in the doorway like a museum guide. “There’s really not that much to it.” She shrugged. But Jack knew it meant something, a first office. A toehold on the ladder. Chloe took pride in it, even as she pretended hard not to. Ed should realize this. Ed could calculate to the inch just how much downtown office space was worth, what it meant to have walls that went all the way up to the ceiling. It was a standard-issue office with built-in desk and shelving. Chloe had explained to Jack that you did not decorate an office. Decorating was a girl thing. God forbid you should have a floral-printed Kleenex box holder or a cute poster. Chloe had made room for a coffee mug, and pictures in sterling-silver frames. (Chloe and Jack on
their honeymoon in New Orleans, Chloe’s family assembled for Christ-mas.) Her raincoat hung on a peg. The rest of it could have been anyone’s.

Chloe’s mother said, “Your own little space. That’s so wonderful.”

“Mom.”

Ed said, “It’s an office, Allison, it’s not anything to get mushy about.”

“You’re a big drip. He’s really very proud of you, darling. We both are.”

“Easily impressed, aren’t they?” Chloe remarked to Jack.

“She never could accept compliments,” said Allison. “At least, not from me. What do I know, I’m just the mother. A figure of fun.”

Ed said, “So what exactly is it you do in here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Different things. They move us around to work in all the bank’s areas, like a medical student doing an internship. We train in finance, retail banking, sales and marketing, that’s things like credit cards and small and midsize businesses. Oh, and investments, and international operations.”

“I see,” said Ed, just as if she’d answered his question.

A man looked in from the open doorway. “Knock knock.” It was Spence, Chloe’s boss. Or rather, her boss’s boss. Spence was the Vice President in charge of something-or-other.

“Spence, come on in, I’d like you to meet my parents. Mom, Dad, Jim Spencer.”

Allison said, “We’re on our way to the ball game.” She indicated the polo shirts, apologizing.

Spence shook hands with Ed. “A Cards fan, huh.” Meaning the hat. “Don’t rub it in, buddy.” Spence kissed Allison’s hand, cornballing around so it was funny. To Jack he said, “You have to quit coming up here, you look too damned good.” Jack liked Spence. Everybody liked him. He was the good boss. “I can’t have anybody prettier than me around here.” And this was funny because Spence was a big, well-upholstered man who had no doubt once been slimmer, but not pretty. He had a big high balding forehead, a graying mustache and beard that
were a triumph of precision barbering, and a big man’s hearty laugh. “Chloe, you gotta mess him up a little.”

“I do,” said Chloe. “But he heals fast.”

And just like that they were smiling, an easy, animated group, something they hadn’t been able to achieve on their own. Jack wished he’d said something funny about Ed’s hat himself.

“Did you tell your parents you’re the star around here? She is. She sets the pace.”

“Shucks,” said Chloe.

“We were very lucky to get her. We try to treat her like a jewel and keep her polished.”

“Cut it out, Spence, they’ll think I’m paying you off.” But Chloe looked happy. Contrary to what her mother had said, she did know how to accept compliments.

Spence was the one who made it a point to know all the trainees’ names. He was very good at his job, he’d made a name for himself, moving from one institution to another, acquiring ever more hiring bonuses and stock options. Being successful was probably what allowed him the luxury of being nice. Spence said, “Chloe tell you about her award?”

“Chloe!”

“Mom, it’s more like what you get for finishing probation.”

“Well, it’s a little more than that. She gets to go with us to New York next month for a junket. Not that we call it that. It’s officially a week of off-site training. But we only take the top people in the class.”

“I just found out, I was going to tell everyone tonight at dinner. Oh well.”

Jack put an arm around her shoulders. “Congratulations.”

“No huge fuss, okay?”

“Sort of huge.”

Ed said, “Congratulations, baby,” and Allison said that she never told them
anything
. It was a setup. Chloe had asked Spence to deliver her news for her. Jack was certain of it, though he couldn’t think why, unless it was intended to impress the parents.

Spence asked Ed and Allison how long they were going to be in
town, could he take them to lunch? It was too late for that, they were going to eat hot dogs at the ballpark. Spence probably figured on that. Still, it was nice of him to go through the motions. It was nice for Chloe’s sake. Jack raised his eyebrows at her, winked, and she gave him a remote smile. She seemed anxious to move things along and sent them all on their way, probably before Ed and Allison could launch into another one of their picturesque arguments. It was his cue.

“Guys, we should probably get a move on.”

Spence shook hands with everyone again. “You folks have yourself a time, now.”

“Take care of our girl,” said Ed, and Spence promised that he would.

Jack said, “Just don’t keep her out too late tonight.”

“Now that’s the kind of thing I like to hear from a husband.”

That was good for another laugh, then they made their way to the elevators. Jack looked back and saw Chloe and Spence already engrossed in serious conversation. Chloe frowned over a piece of computer printout. Back to work. It was an office, after all, not a place where wives, husbands, and sweethearts were meant to be hanging around.

In the cab on the way to Wrigley, Ed said, “Well. Well, well, well.”

“I hope she’ll be careful in New York,” said Allison.

Jack said that Chloe worked really hard, it was good to see it starting to pay off for her. He told himself that he was not, goddamn it, going to begrudge her any of it. He was going to be supportive. The enlightened husband. The cab let them off a couple of blocks from Wrigley, and they joined the crowd sauntering in from the parking lots. It seemed to have gotten hotter out on the sidewalks. Four or five young men passed them, their heads shaved at the sides like marines. They wore shirts advertising different alcoholic beverages. They were loud and casually profane. Fucking this, fucking that. Jack stopped at a vendor and bought two Cubs hats.

“Here.” He handed one to his father-in-law. “Do me a favor, wear it.”

The seats were good seats. Just over first base, and close in. Chloe had procured them through someone at work. Jack got Ed and Allison settled and went to track down hot dogs. A beautiful day at the Friendly Confines. You didn’t come to a Cubs game for the team, but
because, by God, it was such a pretty place, ivy, mint-condition grass, the corny organist playing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” and people singing along, bawling, really. What was bothering him wasn’t Chloe’s new success, or not entirely. Chloe hadn’t wanted him there this morning. He had thought it was her parents that made her so distant and edgy, but it had been him.

Jack returned with the hot dogs just as they were finishing up “The Star-Spangled Banner.” The singer was a guy who took singing seriously, somebody from a choir or maybe the Lyric Opera. He succeeded in making the national anthem into such a showpiece of trills and vibrato, everyone in the stadium must have felt secretly relieved that it couldn’t be sung in any normal way. “Brewers, huh,” said Ed, accepting his hot dog. “They’re pretty lame, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, but they always get inspired when they play here.” Jack hoped not to get too involved in the play-by-play. He tried to remember something knowledgeable about the Brewers’ starter. He was a left-hander. Jack offered this up. But Ed only nodded, looking thoughtful, and turned his head toward Jack, adjusting his cap to shade his face.

“You guys are okay, aren’t you?”

“Sure,” said Jack automatically. Then, “What are you talking about?”

“The two of you.”

“Jesus, Ed. This is a ball game.”

“Sometimes, it’s nobody’s fault, things just get off track.”

Jack opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t yet know what, but Ed raised a hand to wave him off. “Look, never mind, tell me to butt out.”

“Ed, we’re fine. Why do you …” Jack glanced across to Allison, on Ed’s other side. She wasn’t paying attention; she was having a hard time balancing her hot dog and her game program. “Are you talking about something Chloe said, or …”

“Ah hell, Jack, you’re a good kid. I always thought that.” Ed patted Jack’s knee. Jack couldn’t remember him ever doing such a thing. “Maybe someday you’ll have a daughter, you’ll understand how foolish you can get. You start thinking the world’s an ocean, and everybody swimming in it is a shark. Forget I said anything. Play ball.”

Ed raised his hands to his mouth like a megaphone and whooped along with the crowd. The Brewers batted first and stranded a runner on first. Then the Cubs were at bat and the Brewers’ left-handed pitcher went into his windup. The batter hit a pop fly and everyone groaned and settled in for a long afternoon.