My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

10

It was indeed a dismal day today with intermittent thunderstorms. On the brighter side, Ronald was so hyped up from his new hire official tour, that he insisted he take me to lunch. At Sharkey’s. For some reason his company wasn't as disagreeable as I thought I should be. What I hadn’t counted on, though, was that he’d asked his mother along.

Ron ordered imported Irish beer to go with my Corned Beef &Cabbage and his Irish Stew. Did I see a new menu pattern for the diner here? Jessica ordered the soup and salad special (with homemade croutons) and iced tea.

“How soon will Ronny be promoted?" Jessica asked.

“Mother, I'll be  on a month's trial first. We can’t expect father to promote me yet.”

“Well, I don’t see why not….”

“There’s no guarantee, even then,” I said. “I thought that was made clear.”

“Mom spoke out of turn, Dad. I know I have to climb the ladder of success, just like any other employee, but I assure you, that I’ll become such a valuable asset to the firm that you'll have to promote me to the executive staff!" he laughed.

Just then we were saved from further discussion by a young couple on their way out. It would have been impolite to refuse them the picture they wanted taken with with all of us.

Sharkey did the honors. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but was that handshake Ron gave them upon their leaving hiding a Twenty Dollar Bill? Would wonders never cease, though I was proud of the congratulatory offer.

After lunch while we were headed back to the car, Jessica asked if I could help them find a home.

 “While I’d prefer Ronny find something in keeping with your relationship,” Jessica said, "he’s been complaining that he’d best start out with something modest.”

“Something to help me fit in with my colleagues,” Ronald said, “I'm  sure they'll be, well," he laughed, "a bit…envious of me.”

“Perhaps something like Lee’s apartment?” Jessica asked. “It’s beach front, isn’t it? Do we have time to drop by? Take a look? You have a key, don’t you? You two share everything, or so I hear.”

“It wouldn’t be as if we’re intruding,” Ron said.

“Why, we won’t even disturb any dust bunnies,"Jessica added. "I know you bachelors tend to let things get run down without women pestering you to pick up after yourselves.”

I don’t know what compelled me to agree. Probably to prove to them that we bachelors can and do tidy up after ourselves, especially Naval officers.

The apartment complex had one floor and was laid out sideways from the beach. Only two units had beachfront decks. Lee had been lucky to get it.  But I think he would have liked any of the other units as well, as it was an easy walk to the beach for all.

I unlocked the door to reveal, to my great satisfaction, that it was devoid of  ancient pizza boxes lying out or other possible 'lab experiments' on the sofa.

“He doesn’t know much about decorating, does he?” Jessica muttered.

The only thing that said ‘home sweet home’ was a ‘granny square’ afghan, (creator unknown), a stack of scrapbooks on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and a few pictures and certificates on the walls. Of course, those of Seaview were displayed prominently.

I was surprised to see a model of the boat rising up from a giant coral on the round glass table. There was just one major difference between this model and the ones I had in the office and aboard Seaview.

“Oh, how cute!” Jessica had  exclaimed. “A red Seaview! I didn't know you marketed toy models, Harry.”

“Actually I haven’t. Lee either commissioned from one of our scale model clients, it or he built and painted it himself.”

“What’s this,” Ron asked of one of the certificates on the wall, “’blue nose’?”

 “These are nautical certificates for nautical 'first's in a naval career. That one’s for crossing the Arctic Circle. Hence the term ‘Blue Nose’. ‘Red Nose’ is for the Antarctic. Then there’s the ‘Shellback’, Emerald Shellback’, the ‘Order of Magellan’, ‘Order of the Ditch,’ and then there’s….”

“Never mind," Jessica sighed, disinterested. "We get the idea."

Ron picked up a couple of scrapbooks that I was about to tell him to put down when two police officers, guns drawn, slammed the door further open against the wall.

“Put em’ up!” one of them shouted.

Stunned, we did as ordered, pictures and clippings spilling out the scrapbooks.

“It’s not what you think!” Jessica explained.

“We’re just checking on my brother’s apartment,” Ron added.

“Oh hell,” the manager said, arriving. “Admiral Nelson? Didn’t the captain give you his new security code?”

“Afraid he didn't give me a code at all.  All I have is the key.”

“It’s all right, officers. They're related. I haven’t met the Hawthorne's yet, but they’re all in the news.”

“Well next time,” one of the cops said, “have the code, or check in with the manager first. When’s the captain coming back, anyway?”

“Actually, officer,” I said, “I’m unaware of his plans. Seaview should be arriving soon, however. With recent events, though, I may advise him to continue to stay with me at the institute to avoid the press.”

“Do that,” the other cop said and both huffed off.

“When you’re done here, let me know,” the manager told us.

“Wait," Ron said. "Do you have any vacancies?”

“Afraid not. Maybe the captain can sub let the place to you. Ah, sub let...good one."

“Never mind, Ron," Jessica said, “we really need something bigger," she said, then added looking around the living room, "and a bit more upscale.”

"The cap'n likes it," the manager said and left.

“Many people would be grateful for an apartment like this,” I said, "are we ready to go, now?"

"Ronald an I are NOT 'many' people."

We dropped Jessica off at the hotel and Ron drove me back to the institute. We saw an official city car parked to the side of the gate and it's driver hopped out and opened the door for the passenger.

"Finally," he said as he neared our car, the guard checking my ID, "I've been waiting for you to arrive."

“Afternoon Mr. Mayor. My new son, Ronald Hawthorne aka Nelson."

“How do you do. Admiral? I’m hoping you might reconsider attending that little gala tonight. I know you’re a busy man, but…”

“I’m sorry. I thought I informed your staff that I'd be unavailable." It was a lie, I'm sure he knew. I was just so tired of being bilked for more and more contributions, charitable though they may be.

“That’s too bad. We'll miss your company. Wait, how about you, Mr. Hawthorne aka Nelson? It's for a good cause. The Santa Barbara Charitable Trust. Helps, oh, a wide assortment of needs."

"What do you think, father?”

“I see no reason why not, though, there is a minimum contribution. $2000 each, isn't it, Mr. Mayor."

"Oh, that's not a problem. I'd be happy to attend, Mr. Mayor. May I ask my mother to accompany me?"

"The more the merrier," the mayor said, slapping him on the back. “Convention Hall. Black tie. Eight O'Clock. Full buffet dinner. Wine, women, and song. Too bad the admiral has to miss it. Why, my wife’s been trying to introduce him to her sister for years…”

With a smile and a wave he got into his car and was driven away.

As I sat in my apartment's easy chair I couldn't help wondering why Seaview hadn't arrived yet.

Had her makeshift repairs held up? We hadn't gotten any distress calls. What will Lee think about Ron attending the fund raiser? After all, Lee’s my official representative for those affairs I can't or don't want to attend. And he contributes to charities regularly. Of course, he’s still at sea, so it really shouldn’t matter. I just don't want him to be jealous.

More thunder, louder. More rain. An omen? Damn. It suddenly occurred to me that  I'd been forgetting the things Ron and Jessica had said on the spy cam more than I'd promised myself to remember.

But then, perhaps I'm  just learning how to be a father who is supposed to overlook some of his son's less glaring faults. A father who loves his son.

Love? I snorted. No. I didn't love Ron. In all honesty, I didn't even like him. But he was companionable, and that might change to something better.

I felt the need to grab a little more of the pink stuff before heading to bed and was pleased to see the patch job holding up. I could only hope Seaview's was.