I usually ran to the office a few times a week since my drive to work was under five
minutes, especially if the first appointment slot wasn't filled. Sweating way more than the
average human, I needed to shower off in the office on those days.
My car of choice was a Toyota Camry. My family had never owned vehicles larger than a
four door sedan, though this was a bit of a hassle for Susan during the carpool years.
I stepped out of my car in the garage, looking around at the newfound space in the garage
that was still catching me off guard, despite being a few weeks old. Susan, Tom and I used to ride
our bikes in the summers when Tom was smaller, but not anymore. Susan got rid of them this
past summer during a clearing out whirlwind she had going on for most of July throughout the
house. We bought a shed for the backyard for my snow blower and lawn mower, which meant
moving them out of the garage. Suddenly, people now could exit both vehicles on either side - it
was a huge change in space.
I had been thinking about putting in a workstation where the bikes were but that would
mean me actually doing some handy work around the house.
Susan was cooking something with a heavy beef odor – probably tacos or enchiladas; she
was quite a good cook though she reserved her best for dinner parties.
I walked up behind her in the kitchen and she heard me coming.
“Hey hon, how was your day?” Susan inquired.
It was a beef noodle dish that she was stirring gently in the large spaghetti pot.
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“Well, it started off with kind of a bang…guess who stopped by the office first thing this
morning?”
Susan turned to me and smiled. She gave me a kiss and ran her hands through my hair.
Susan loved wintergreen lifesavers and her breath was especially fresh.
Tom was at soccer practice and usually didn't return home until 6:30. We'd been trying
to have more family dinners the past few months, so dinner was later than usual during the fall
soccer season. We tried to go to all of his games, which meant eating out very late after the game
and producing a number on my digestive track.
“Oohh…sounds exciting. Who was it?”
“Dave Clark stopped by and asked me to be on one of his drug study committees.”
Susan stopped smiling and turned back to the beef casserole before suddenly spinning
back toward me.
“Are you sure this isn't one of his schemes to demean you once again?” she asked me.
I knew she would bring that up.
About ten years ago, when Tom was just learning how to ski, the Clarks and the Johnsons
went on a ski trip to Vail. We had a decent week but, even back then, it was clear that Dave's
stature was rising much faster than mine in the medical community.
The management company notified us mid week that the condo in which we were staying
was being offered to us on a time share basis. We could buy two weeks a year. The price: $8,500
per couple.
After we all thought about the deal, we finally agreed to give it a go. Dave said he would
notify the management company to gather up all of the paperwork. The Clarks and Johnsons went
out that evening to celebrate - it felt like we were in college again- and the laughter kept growing with every drink. The $8,500 price was steep because the Johnsons were not used to spending that
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kind of vacation money. I was still paying off medical school loans, but we had it lying around in
our savings accounts and we figured we could swing it.
The next Monday, Dave called me and told me there'd been a change in plans. It turned
out that the Clarks were angling for another higher end time share property right on the ski slopes.
Dave offered me in on this deal as well, only now the price was $22,500 per couple for the same
two weeks a year. This was clearly far out of our price range and I suspected that Dave knew that.
“Nick, I didn't think you guys would be comfortable with this kind of money, but I
wanted to at least give you a chance. The Jacobs – you know Paul Jacobs, right? – they are in if
you guys pass, so don't feel like there's any pressure here.”
Dave had a way to defuse people's volatile reactions toward him. Paul Jacobs was a
general surgeon who often worked with Dave.
Susan was quite pissed about the whole thing, fuming about for over a month, and we
ended up not seeing the Clarks for almost nine months until a dinner party at the Wesleys. When
Dave announced during dinner that the Clarks were traveling out to their Vail time share, Susan
nearly choked on her salmon. I really thought she was going to offer up a tirade against Dave and
his scheming antic.
“That was a long time ago, honey, and I really think he's being sincere here,” I replied.
“Nick, I just don't want you to get hurt here, that's all.”
“Look, this isn't middle school, Hon.”
Susan turned to exam the beef dish.
“I don't know what that means…but if you think trying to protect you is somehow
immature…”
I had some backtracking here to do and quick.
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“I didn't mean it like that…it was ten years ago, though….and I do think I have a better
read on the man after all of these years. I don't let him push me around…”
The phone rang and Susan leaned over the stove to pick it up to find Stanley on the line. I
knew this could be awhile so I walked into the family room and grabbed that day's newspaper.
The recession seemed to be getting worse - companies were lying to their investors everywhere
we looked. The whole Enron fiasco was still all over the news.
I'd call Dave that night. I knew I shouldn't get my hopes up, but he didn't come all the
way over to my office early that morning with a plan to purposely disappoint me by saying, at a
later time, that the committee didn't need me after all. That would be just twisted behavior, and I
didn't put David Clark in that category of folks.
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Friday, September 5th
5:30pm