And the Seasons Come: A Novel

By David L. Mason

It is 1963 and Edward Kilton knows he is approaching a pivotal turning point in his life. Even though he is already the chief financial officer of the fourth largest corporation in America, he is determined to eventually secure the coveted role of CEO.

Edward’s wife, Dorothy, is a concert pianist and organist who seemingly only cares for two things in life: her piano and son, Michael. Quite simply, she has been pushed to her limits with all of his business affairs and the fact that he always comes first. After he urges her to perform at Town Hall in New York City to impress his board of directors, a surprising series of events unfolds that creates an incredibly unexpected result that guides both Edward and Dorothy to discover themselves, the true meaning of family, and life itself.

And the Seasons Come is a compelling tale that perpetuates the eternal struggle between unrequited ambition and love as life comes full circle for a corporate executive and his wife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Nov 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665713122

David L. Mason

David Mason is a retired minister who lives in Southwestern Pennsylvania on a nine-acre farm with his spouse, his dogs and cats, and a love for writing.

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 David L. Mason.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by

any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®.

Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission

of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered

in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.®

ISBN: 978-1-6657-1311-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-1312-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021919930

Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/19/2021

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-one

Twenty-two

Twenty-three

Twenty-four

Twenty-five

Twenty-six

Twenty-seven

Twenty-eight

Twenty-nine

Thirty

Epilogue

One

A ND THE SEASONS COME AND GO.

The wisps of cold air were bringing the fall detritus tumbling down outside his window. "What’s bitter in the soil is colorful in the leaf, he remembered having read a while ago. Alistair Cooke? Yes, that’s it. Smart man, that Alistair. " He sighed quietly.

Edward Dorothy’s voice interrupted his musing. Edward! when are we leaving?

Shortly, he muttered, resting his finger on the glass before him. He just now felt the chill. In a bit.

You know, I never enjoy these things. You know I never do. And yet, you insist….

Yes, I insist, I insist because the fact is--it is what it is. Please be ready this time.

More like ‘prepared’ it seems to me. Yes, ‘prepared’ is better.

Stop before you start, my dear, he advised. You know how futile it is to struggle against it. There are things in life that must be done, and this is one of them.

Edward was approaching a turning point, and he knew it. Mid-life was clicking by on the roulette wheel of life, and the little black ball kept rolling and rolling around in its path, and the anticipation of where it was going to stop was maddening. The croupier regarded his latest victim with a curious, yet cautious stare, and Edward felt he had lost too much on that game table already.

He broke from his ruminations and began to search about in his ancient leatherette wallet, with the chipped letters on the pocket that reminded him of his humble beginnings. He found, to his delight, a crumpled page he had folded and refolded, which he now unfolded to read :

"Nothing is filled with greater joy and happiness than work, and love, exactly because it is the most extreme joy and happiness, can be nothing but work. A person in love thus has to try to behave as if he had to accomplish a major task: he has to spend a lot of time alone, reflect and think, collect himself and hold on to himself; he has to work; he has to become something!"

"Oh, that Rilke, he mused. Turning the little sheet over, he squinted to see in his scrawling hand, Guilt is a luxury I can’t afford. He turned it over, snickered, and then carefully returned it to its place. It’s all good," he thought.

Luxury. Not a foreign word for a man of his experience, and yet a man who had once in his salad days composed a treatise on a novel about a boy with yellow eyes, a younger, more naïve man who spent weeks translating a book on a boy who bandied around a tin drum, crying tears of boredom, and books about repressed young men who wrote lurid graffiti on bathroom walls. Unexpectedly receiving a grant to study in New Orleans as a result, Edward had been told he was a gentleman, and a scholar by a sanctimonious old codger of the Garden District who hosted him and told him that there was a lot of merit in obtaining an education from a small, unknown institution of higher learning. Edward was more than adequately reminded of that fact that day by the old gentleman in question, whose sense of propriety was exceeded by his persistent self-adulation. Seven presidents in the man’s family tree was indeed a difficult act for anyone to follow, the top hat tree in his foyer was impressive, but the crumbling façade of his grand home and rusty wrought iron filigree spoke more to the reality of his situation, however, and the tired face of the aged servant who appeared during the visit with tea and iced scones. Leaving the parlor, the old man whispered, she made us chocolate pudding last evening for dessert. What a treat! All this following the tour of the garconni’ere behind the great house, where he was aptly instructed of the thrills of young bucks, their gals and their midnight revels. Ah, those were the days! the old man chortled in reverie.

All that made him more determined to find his place. And he felt he was well on the way.

Should I don black this time, or do you prefer sequins? Her voice shattered his thoughts.

Black. Always black. You know the drill. This is the board, you know.

Edward, I’ve decided not to wear a fur this evening. It really isn’t that cold yet, and frankly, I prefer this little cape I managed to find that goes with this dress. Do you think I will be warm enough? I never know.

Edward sighed. He was becoming a bit impatient with all this last-minute decision making. "Dorothy, do what you want, he thought. Let’s get a move on!"

The sun had begun its nocturnal cycle as they moved through the leaf- laden streets of Deer Park toward the Parkway. Edward loved to drive the sedan. He never minded that the weather might provide obstructions, he felt power and control over nature when behind that wheel. What fun he had always had, driving his old beloved Buick convertible through the financial district, screaming invectives in years past. What a wonderful release, even at the expense of terrifying his nephew in the passenger’s seat who never seemed to respond to him much, poor boy. Smart boy, he’ll learn. No one ever gives you anything in this life, much less lane space in downtown Manhattan.

Oh, that dreadful little airplane she muttered. I absolutely despise that thing. She snorted.

Now, now, it’s not all that bad. It gets us where we need to go in a timely fashion, and to be frank, I love the little thing.

Edward shook his head. He felt that for the most part, Dorothy cared only for two things in life: her piano and Michael.

Michael, ah, yes, Michael. His one concession to her. No child, no second wife. His first wife, Veronica had passed years before, leaving him with Freddy, who had been a a concession to her as well. Freddy was blessed with far too much intelligence for his own good, coupled with a sordid tongue that earned him an ostracizing by all of his peers and his relations. After first attempts at local public schools, where Freddy embarrassed himself and his parents, a mortified Edward had to fork out tuition for private. Freddy was thrown out of every private school Edward could find because of inappropriate language issues, but he managed to graduate and managed to make it through New York University by the grace of God and a heavy contribution to the building fund and then on to a placement in the company which had a way of handling Freddy by exiling him to the Industrial Engineering department. A desk job of little merit, keeping track of time schedules and task efficiency, but thank God, out of the political mainstream. Routine coffee and donut breaks that only added to his obesity begun by Veronica’s insistence that he be fed a bowl of ice cream in the middle of the night when he needed the lav, which led to an early cognizance of diabetes that he never paid attention to much less cared about. Ah, yes, Freddy. Freddy and his vulgar tastes.

And ah, yes, Michael. Edward was glad at how Michael was maturing, nice- looking for his age, but, oh, how did Edward describe Michael? Reticent. Yes, that’s it. Michael had the smarts to keep his mouth shut most of the time, and he did well in school. By the time Edward had advanced in the company, nothing else but Choate would do, since Jack Kennedy had been a graduate there and was the sitting president. By the grace of God, Michael excelled at Choate with honors making that outrageous tuition pay for itself. But now? Boston U? More tuition. Agh.

Yes, I love the little thing, and it’s not dreadful! I was glad to get it at the price I found.

Always the price, isn’t it, Edward?! Always the price.

Oh, please, please. Yes, always the price. You would do well to keep that in mind, my dear.

I don’t care what deal you made for that thing, my sister still talks to me about the near collision we all had with death when it stopped in mid-air over Westchester. She was carrying her twins, and to this day she wonders if the shock of the engine stopping and us falling five hundred feet before the reserve tank came on affected the children she was carrying.

Oh, not that again! And your sister would do better if she (he felt a sudden twinge in his stomach at the thought of this) if she….just stopped having more children.

Leave my sister out of this! she retorted. I have never liked that thing-- you’ve known this for quite some time, but yet insist we travel in it. And that’s my final word on the subject. And with that, she folded her hands around the evening bag in her lap…..and chose silence.

The parkway led to the exit for the private airport strip, and Edward guided their vehicle quietly and promptly to the gate, whereupon the attendant, Jesse, who knew of their arrival, ran out to greet them for his usual tip, brandishing his cap. Edward reached out his window and pressed the necessary in the attendant’s hand, and then circled the tarmac until he visually located his Piper Cub. Darkness suddenly seemed to desire an approach. He brought the vehicle to a halt, pressed the unlock button on the door handle, and turned to her with the words, We’re here. Let’s go while we still have daylight.

She sighed, and quietly moved out of her seat, shutting the door behind her. The weather had cooled, and a sudden dread came over her. Dorothy hated this. More than that, she was actually frightened. Flying in this weather? What if it happened again?

Edward had threatened to sue the airport and its owner, to which they graciously gave him a life time of free maintenance because of the incident, but she didn’t care about all that. It just wasn’t safe enough to her liking. More than that, she really hadn’t wanted to come with at all.

These meetings were dreadful. People she barely even knew but was forced to mingle with socially, who looked at her as if they were going to devour her, and the task of making conversation with these business matrons was horrendously tedious for her. Scandalous tales of wayward housemaids who constantly stole from them or wound up pregnant was boring and frankly, insignificant. She would much rather have stayed at home and played her Shostakovich, better, than that, the Rachmaninoff prelude for the Town Hall concert that was looming on her horizon. But, oh, no, here we are. Or rather, here I am!

Dorothy! Edward had climbed in the pilot’s seat. Let’s get a move on.

Edward, you know I need help in climbing in this thing. She was shouting! Oh, alright! he snapped back, and climbing out of the cockpit, jumped down and came over to the other side, opened the passenger door and carefully lifted his wife up unto the plane running board and into her seat. There! he feigned. Now, get all comfy, for this may take a while. The heater will cut the chill in a few moments once we get going. And with that, he climbed back in, strapped himself in…..and turned the key to the ignition.

Edward loved flying. "Ah, being up in the clouds…." he thought as he listened to the propeller slowly turn itself and gain some momentum. And there it was, churning away, cutting through the chilly evening air. He adjusted his headset, made contact with the control tower, viewed the dials and set the controls to his liking, set the altitude, and with a sudden growing sense of excitement and satisfaction, began moving the little plane onto the air strip for take off.

They taxied a bit, and then….up they went! The little craft bucked and swayed until he could level it off. The cool air gave a spot of turbulence, but as they hit five hundred feet, Edward slowly leveled things off. Judging that the weather was iffy, having hit turbulence, Edward set the engine at full throttle, hoping they could reach their destination quicker to avoid any further weather issues. Oh, this thing is so noisy! Dorothy cried suddenly. Can’t do much about that, he shouted back over the engine din. This won’t take long. We should be there soon.

They rode along in silence, except for the engine’s participation. He knew she couldn’t stand this much, but the alternative of driving to the island where they had the meeting was impractical, and would involve a ferry, which upset her stomach even more than this experience.

"The meeting!, he pondered. The board. He had worked hard to become chief financial officer. The only reason he even got in management was that as one of the company’s accountants, he discovered theft by retailers of their product reselling it on the black market during the war", and being the bulldog he was, he was able to make enough of a case to get himself step-stoned up the ladder. Once he was head of the entire department, he immediately phased out all the competing folk by discovering their weaknesses, ah, their drinking habits and folderol at company gatherings, especially the company Christmas party, not to mention their basic incompetence at keeping up with the new system he had devised.

That was so clever, he chuckled to himself. They never did figure it all out the way he devised it. And having a keen ear and excellent memory, managed to push his way into that formidable patronage at the top, inhabited only by past Harvard business, Elis and Wharton grads who made mistakes, you know. No discipline!

Edward knew discipline. He had been taught by the best. Edward didn’t make mistakes, no siree, he was far too clever for that. He knew what was at stake. One didn’t afford Deer Park and that blasted swimming pool that took dynamite to cut through the slate by making mistakes. Plus….he had deep pockets with the chairman.

The sail boat did the trick. Thank God for the Long Island Sound and long weekends. Dorothy hated those boat trips even more than this Piper Cub, and the discovery of her mal de mer was troublesome. But he had to do what he had to do

Perhaps half an hour had gone by. Oh….oh…how much longer Dorothy whimpered. It’s chilly. Well….I can reach for the blanket in the back seat. Hold on! And with that, he groped behind his seat with his right hand, leveling the plane with the other, and he located the scotch plaid wooly he had left there a while back, and quickly plopped it on her lap. Here, he retorted. This should help. Thank you, Edward. That was thoughtful. And with that, she snuggled underneath the little blanket, and turned her head toward the little cockpit window to see the stars up above, and dozed off.

When it happened.

Edward felt a gradual falling of altitude. He began to accelerate the plane, but no matter what direction he gave it, it slowly began to glide down, and down, and to his terror, was closer to the tree tops then he wanted it ever to be. Frantic, he began looking for a place to land. Oh, they were so close, but yet so far from the little landing strip on the island they were headed for.

As they began to descend at a more rapid rate, and darkness had just about overtaken them totally, he saw in the twilight a beach head. "Ah, the beach! We can land there once we clear these trees, he thought. I will radio in and give them our location for rescue. We have no choice. This is it, or we hit the water whether we like it or not!".

The plane began to buck and weave as he steered it in the direction of the beach, causing Dorothy to startle and look out the window at the approaching waves. Oh, my dear Lord, she stammered, sitting up totally erect, now. It’s happened again! I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it. Edward, how can this be!

Well, it unfortunately is what it is was the only thing he could muster. Edward lived by this maxim. It always helped him take control in difficult situations. Just relax. I need to land this thing.

Which was no easy task. The plane lurched forward, and as they closed in on the beach below, Edward was so rattled by the fact this was happening to him a second time, he totally forgot to switch on the reserve tank. In fact, he switched the engine off, and by what he always believed later to be a small miracle, managed to float the plane down so they would hit the sand without too much of an impact in order to roll to a stop.

Which they did. Oh, my God, he thought. Oh, my God. It worked!

Stunned…..they both just sat for a moment in silence.

Neither of them had any injuries from the landing, Edward had skillfully handled things quite well to both of their surprise, actually. But then…..Dorothy, suddenly passing the shock of it all off in tears, breached the moment in quite a shaky and piercing tone by voicing the inevitable question, What now?

Edward took a deep, deep breath. What now, he repeated to himself. He looked out through the front window of the little plane, and seeing darkness totally enfolding them, began to figure his next move.

Edward was never one to panic. Years of self-controlled discipline of his emotions worked wonders for him in times of crisis. The time they had gone out to Rhode Islandto the beach property, Freddy had dawdled so long, they couldn’t leave when the hurricane suddenly decided to land after the eye had passed. The water had suddenly crested and washed out the road! They sat trapped for two days until rescue crews could get them safely out. The howling of the gale almost blew out the windows and shook the house to its foundation, and as Poseidon waged war with the wind, they watched in terror as first one, then the other houses nearby crashed into the god’s arms. The rest of Edward’s crew verged on hysteria with fright, but he had remained calm. "That was leadership, I tell you, he said to himself. It is what it is". He lived by that, you know.

And here it was again. "It is what it is, he thought. I’m going to radio the tower and call for help, he told Dorothy. I’ll have them contact the board and tell them what has happened."

Dorothy had no response. She was in a very large sense, grateful for this turn of events, but at the same time, frustrated beyond belief. It was quite cool, now, she hadn’t planned to be walking a beach in heels with only a light cape to protect her from the weather.

She would ruin the shoes, no doubt about that. And walking in the sand in hose, how is that done? She hadn’t wanted to wear hose, but these old dowagers wouldn’t permit anyone to be in their company without hose. It just wasn’t done, don’t you know, at their level. Dorothy was surprised she didn’t have to wear a hat to boot, but after all, the invitation was addressed formal casual whatever that meant, whatever that always meant, but she complied as the dutiful wife that she had had to become in all this.

Edward…. She paused to catch her breath. I’m not at all prepared for a beach stroll. What should we do?

I am aware of that, my dear he retorted. Edward had a pleasant drawl that he had developed over the years that actually was an endearing quality of his that people admired for some strange reason no one could explain. He used it in times of uncertainty, and it seemed to work for him.

I ‘m aware of that! I’ll have to wait for the tower to respond. Just sit tight. They’ll get back to us shortly.

But shortly was not in the cards for them that night. Edward repeated his distress call, but there was no response. He waited ten minutes, then repeated it again. No response. Fifteen minutes later, no response. Finally, a weak voice crackled over the radio. This is the Tower returning your signal. What are your coordinates?

With a sigh of relief, Edward complied, and then added, my wife and I have landed on the beach, no damage to the plane or to us, thank God. Would you come and get us?

We are notifying the Coast Guard for rescue, came the reply. The Coast Guard? Could you send a plane out here to come and pick us up?

Sorry, sir, but we are too short staffed this evening to do that. The best I can do is the Coast Guard. Well I like that! Edward lost his patience.

How long do you think it will take? The blood was rushing up Edward’s neck.

Hard to say, came the reply. Hard to say. Try to sit tight and stay warm. If they don’t come by daylight, we’ll send someone out.

Look, we were going to an important meeting. Edward interrupted. I need you to call them and let them know our predicament!

The radio reception suddenly began to fade out. Over and out was all he could get from the Tower.

"Hard to say Edward repeated to himself. So that’s the best they can do?! I have half a mind……"

Edward began to shout. It’s a good thing neither of us are bleeding to death! Short staffed. For what we have paid them. Those turkeys! I have to let the board know what has happened! I can’t just not show up, or at least call!

Dorothy turned to him. Well, that didn’t go well. The Coast Guard? I can’t believe it. It’s so dark. There are no lights out here. How are they ever going to locate us? And the temperature has really dropped. This is a nightmare!

Well…..Edward swallowed. I’m afraid to turn on the outside lights to the plane until they get close so we don’t run down the battery. I’m going to get out and walk up the beach to see if there are any lights in the distance. I’ve got to try to find a phone somewhere to let the board know what has happened!

Oh, I like that, I do! Dorothy was furious. Leave me here all alone in the dark. You and that infernal board! That’s all there is in the world to you, isn’t there?! No mind me sitting here alone in this cold metal box for hours while you wander off.

Well, my dear, Edward looked at her with flashing eyes with all the restraint he could possibly muster in the moment, You can take off your shoes and walk up the beach with me if you’re so afraid of being alone out here!

And I wouldn’t take off the hose. Your legs will freeze, and a little sand never hurt anyone. It’s the best I can do.

Dorothy had been here before. She knew that look!

The day they delivered the oriental carpet from Christies that she hated, she was so angry, called a taxi, grabbed her hat and coat and bag and rode into the city right to the dealer she knew and purchased another one to her liking to cover up the one he had sent. She purchased it and paid cash, with the proviso they would deliver it that afternoon, which the dealer, a delightful little man from the Near East, who almost dropped his teeth in delight at this fabulous sale, immediately promised and fulfilled.

When Edward arrived at home that evening, and walked in the door, he stopped and looked…..and said nothing. Dorothy was totally wired for a response, but there was none. None!.

The following day, around noon, a delivery truck pulled up, and a crew toting a third oriental carpet showed up, silently came in, moved the furniture, and laid the carpet down on top of the other two.

Dorothy was so incensed, she just left the house after they had finished, jumped into her car, and drove around the neighborhood, sobbing her eyes out. Yes, she had been here before. She had seen that look.

Very well, then, she answered. And with that, she swung herself out of the cockpit, wrapped the little blanket around her shoulders over her cape, put the shoes in her left hand, and followed Edward up the beach.

Two

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.

E DWARD KEPT MULLING THIS OVER AND OVER IN HIS HEAD AS THEY TRUDGED IN THE wet sand. He had translated this from the German years ago, and he liked it. " Just keep going , he thought to himself. Just keep going. Never give up…just give out."

Dorothy, on the other hand, was miserable. She was of slight build, less than medium weight, in fact, had never been over-weight in her entire life, mostly never allowed to be by her ever watchful mother who insisted If you are going to be a performer, you should look like one.

Cold to the bone, now, her shoes in her left hand, her right arm locked into Edward’s left to balance herself, had already snagged her hose on pebbles on the dark beach and knew that this evening was bordering on the hopeless. Her right eyeglass had fogged up, she had difficulty seeing in the distance and was wondering how they were ever going to get out of this….when she thought she saw a movement, a faint, faint shadow near a tree nearby that caught her one good eye.

Yes, something was moving over there, yes, it was. Suddenly very calm, she gripped onto Edward’s arm just a little tighter. Edward…..Edward….look over there!

Straining to see any light at all in the distance, the only thing that brightened the night was the moon overhead. Edward turned and stared in the direction Dorothy had asked him to, and saw nothing. What do you want me to see? He asked.

Dorothy, however, tugged on his arm to stop. Don’t you see it? Edward looked again.

There is nothing there, Dorothy. You are imaging things. No, no, I am certain there is something or someone over there by that tree.

Edward was getting a bit annoyed. Bad enough dealing with the situation, but now he had to deal with Dorothy and her imagination. My dear, there is nothing there! Help me look for some light in the distance, and quit imagining things.

"No, no, no……Edward, there is something over there, I am sure of it.

Edward stopped moving. Then, pray tell, what is it doing? he responded with exasperation. I…I’m not sure, but it is moving around that tree. Dorothy was getting increasingly excited about it all.

It’s dark, and you can’t possibly see what that is you are so certain is moving over there, he answered her.

The moon light was providing some light in the situation, and strain as he could, he simply couldn’t see it.

But Dorothy could.

She could see it. It was a small figure, about three feet tall, or more, it seemed, moving around the tree. Suddenly, it looked right in her direction, and using its small arms, started pointing in a forward direction to the East of where they were walking, all the while now jumping up and down and quite eager they would follow its directions.

Look…look….it’s over there….and it is pointing us to follow it in that direction.

Edward was aghast. He looked, he couldn’t see a thing she was talking about, and thought that perhaps Dorothy was hallucinating due to the shock of the landing, the cold, the fear she was feeling of being lost.

Now just stop it! he bellowed. We don’t want to go that way. That takes us into the trees, and we can’t possibly navigate the woods, you in your stocking feet. Plus you never know what is in those woods, snakes, who knows what. No, let’s just stick to the beach head and hope we can see the Coast Guard lights if and whenever they arrive to help us! he snorted.

Dorothy wouldn’t be assuaged. No, Edward, please listen to me! It is pointing for us to go in that direction. I don’t know about you, but I believe in these things. It is a sign from somewhere. We need to follow it. I am sure of it.

Edward was stubborn….but he had never seen her so committed to anything like this before.

Dorothy came from an interesting family, to be sure. Her father had been born into an old Southern family, long members of an Eastern Shore line of a Presidential family that had migrated from Virginia in centuries past and settled there. Some darkness loomed in their heritage, some KKK incidents that were embarassing to say the least, but for the most part, her father had been a clever man, a local chemist who moved from that small town in Maryland to become the director of a huge Philadelphia chemical company, providing them with a main line address near Huntingdon Valley and a rather comfortable home they were able to keep during the Depression. They had a Packard, no less, and a mother who was socially ambitious in Philadelphia society.

They were friends with next door neighbors who had made millions in the hat industry, and Dorothy had been pushed into accompanying their lovely daughter, a harpist, on the piano, and performances were held in their lavish home on Sunday afternoons, where the Philadelphia orchestra would come for Sunday brunch and the opportunity to hear Dorothy and the daughter perform. Being the Depression, they probably came for the extravagant buffet lunch, a rare opportunity in those days, but that was beside the point. Other neighbors were so impressed that some of the first families of Pennsylvania who had known William Penn personally were interested in Dorothy’s sister, much to her dismay, but that didn’t materialize.

Dorothy’s sister opted to marry for love instead. Edward had known Dorothy from many years ago during summers he and Veronica spent with Freddy and her parents at Beach Haven on Long Beach Island. They both had summer homes there, and he had always admired Dorothy and her talent but most of all, her poise and ability to handle difficulties in her life. Edward had lost Veronica, Freddy was tiresome, and he reconnected with Dorothy whom he perceived moving toward middle age and needing a good match to get away from her possessive mother. It didn’t take too much persuasion, and Dorothy had relented to Edward’s advances. Dorothy’s mother refused to sanction their marriage, opting for a better social connection, so Edward had to go through the difficult task of persuading Dorothy to marry him by eloping. Edward would always remember that difficult evening when they returned from the Justice of the Peace announcing their betrothal to her mother, and how she stood up, walked over to Dorothy and slapped her across the face, walked out of the room, slamming the door. And there you had it.

Dorothy liked her father, who had quite a personality, and enough Scots Irish in him to always be filled with marvelous stories about seeing things. He especially liked the story of having a board meeting in one of the grand old mansions in the city when an elderly lady came running down the front staircase, making a sharp left and disappearing in front of him. Asking the homeowner who his house guest might have been, the owner just replied with a big smile, and a laugh, and reported that that was the house ghost who had broken her neck falling down those very stairs years ago before they came into ownership of the house. She never left. Edward never forgot that wonderful tale, and he linked it with others Dorothy had told him of other sightings she had had while a teenager visiting in other homes.

And now…this. Perhaps she had really seen something. Who knows?

Edward….look! It is still pointing us in that direction. I don’t know about you, but I am following it. Oh…alright! He coughed. The night air was getting to him, too. Alright, alright. And he turned to follow Dorothy into the trees.

The trees off the beach seemed to divide into a path that seemed to have been established long, long ago, quaintly resembling an old Indian foot path, who knew, but was nevertheless there beneath their feet to follow. After a bit, Dorothy began wondering what sort of a goose chase this was becoming, and if they were ever going to remember how to get back to the beach so they could connect with the Coast Guard if they ever showed up… when Dorothy saw it first.

It was a faint glimmer of light in the distance, over a hill.

Look, look! There is a light over there. And sure enough….Edward, not really believing it at first, realized that it was true. There was a light in the distance, and then, two lights, and more emanating from what seemed to be a good sized building, a club house or something similar on the hill on the other side of the island they must have landed on, for you could see the other shoreline now in the distance.

See! See! It led us to safety. See! I’m not crazy after all, Dorothy shouted.

Edward had never seen her like this, so animated, so alive. Still carrying her shoes in her left hand, Dorothy had left Edwad’s grip and was moving in the direction of the lights.

At least a half mile or more later, they arrived at the source of this illumination.

It was a club house, a rather good sized one, as a matter of fact. The front of the building was made of dark cedar wood, stained to appear almost black in the moon light, with huge brass lanterns that flickered by the front door entryway, and wide steps up the porch, with a low overhang to shelter from the weather.

Edward and Dorothy were delighted at this turn of events, as they now felt they one, had some shelter from the chilling cold, and two, had the ability to communicate with the outside world from there to get not only rescued, but to make connections with the board that probably was wondering where they were and what was detaining them, according to Edward’s watch.

Oh, Edward! Can you believe it! Can you just believe it! Dorothy cried. Oh, Edward, go up there and knock on the door and ask them if we can get warm. I’m sure you want to use the phone.

Edward leaped up the steps to the top, rapping impatiently on the door…..but there was no answer despite the fact the lights were on, and he could hear music from inside.

"Must be having a party, whomever it is," Edward mused. "I’ll try again. He rapped a bit louder this time, and even tried the handle on the door, which he discovered was locked. Strange. He turned to Dorothy. The door is locked from the inside."

He kept shaking the door handle…..deciding that knocking was being probably rude, and perhaps the door handle was just stuck for some reason….when he suddenly heard the door handle move from the inside with a key in the lock, unlock, and slowly open a bit of a crack, with a small voice, uttering, Who is it? What do you want?

Edward peered through the door, and seeing a small, elderly, bald man wearing glasses looking back at him, quickly composed himself, and put on his best corporate persona.

My dear sir, I am so glad you came to the door. Could you please let my wife and I in? We were flying to an island nearby for a meeting of my company’s board, and we had to land our plane due to technical difficulties. We would be so grateful if you would let us in for a moment to get warm and to make a phone call to let them know we are safe and alright, and to get some rescue here. We promise not to be of any bother or disturb your gathering in any way. Edward added his best corporate charisma and charm he could muster for the moment.

The man wouldn’t hear any of it. Go away! He shouted. No goyim allowed in here. This is a private club for Jews only.

Through the door, Edward could hear the man mumbling something to others standing behind him, and then laughter. Edward thought he heard the remark, Can you believe it? The goy wanted to come in here! We wouldn’t have this club if they hadn’t worked so hard to shut us out of theirs! And more laughter.

Edward was not one to get angry on a dime, but suddenly, it was if someone had lit a match to a fireplace stoked with kindling.

They had gone through an unsettling plane flight that scared them both with the plane’s failure. He had held his breath trying to land the thing, and by the grace of God, did so, unscathed, thank God. It was cold, Dorothy was not properly dressed for the chilly weather, she had dragged him through trees in the dark to find this place against his better judgment, and even though he was glad they had found it, and he had been so excited to get near a phone and straighten out his situation with the board…..his disappointment at not only not getting inside and getting warm, taking care of Dorothy, and settling his corporate responsibility and jangled nerves, he had to deal with being insulted. It was too much.

Edward did what many would have done in a similar situation: he lost his temper. Banging on the door again, he began to shout. Open up! Open up this door!

Edward knew who he was. He had spent a small fortune paying a genealogist to check into his family background. In fact, it was so successful that he found he was eligible to join an ancient European society due to his German and English ancestry that traced back beyond the Norman Conquest. It had cost him a small fortune, but he proudly displayed the membership certificate on his den wall. Yes, Edward knew who he was, and he wasn’t about to be snubbed. Who did they think they were to shut the door in their faces? Much less be so inhospitable in their moment of need. Unthinkable behavior!

Open up! Open up this door! Edward shouted.

Dorothy, watching all the drama from where she stood at the bottom of the steps, decided to now intervene.

Dorothy was amazing in moments of crisis such as these. In fact, having had a mother who was highly manipulative and prone to tantrums from time to time when she didn’t get her way, she had learned how to adapt to her whims and fits of rage.

She suddenly flashed back to the time her mother had admonished her to not drive the car on a snowy, icy day. They had a rather long driveway, and yes, it had iced over, but Dorothy had an important rehearsal to get to for an upcoming recital, and she was desperate to get there. But her mother had said No. You cannot drive the car. And that is final!

Dorothy waited until her mother walked to the back of the house, and grabbing the car keys, and her coat, hat and purse, she found herself in the front seat, shifting gears, and slowly backing the car down. Of course, her mother was right, the car wheels spun on the ice, and she still remembered looking up through the windshield towards the house, and seeing her mother screaming at her through their front window, knowing that the backlash would be more than unbearable when she finally gave it up and went back inside, leaving the car stuck on the side of the driveway in the snow, a silent symbol of her defeat in more than one way.

Dorothy now intervened, however. She needed to get inside, and that was that. Mother nature was calling, and she, too, was losing her temper, but family history had proven to her to stay calm in such situations. Edward…..stop banging on the door, and let me try to reason with them. Let me.

Edward glared at her. What can you possibly do? he shouted. Well…we aren’t getting anywhere with your method….please let me try. Exasperated, Edward helped Dorothy up the steps. Oh, well he muttered. Stinking snobs.

Edward tapped on the door not once, but actually three times before it suddenly cracked open a bit. The same little old man poked his nose out the opening, and repeated his mantra from before. Go away! You can’t come in.

Before he could shut the door again, however, Dorothy put her hand in to prevent that happening, and looked the little man straight in the face. Shalom, she simply said. Shalom a leichim.

The little man hesitated, and opened the door. Shalom he repeated. He then smiled. You are Jewish after all? he asked. No, we are not, but I am an organist and pianist and have played many a funeral service in a synagogue in Manhattan and Connecticut where we live….and I have a great respect for your faith and your people. One of my fellow students was Marsha Finklestein, and we spent many happy hours rehearsing together for recitals.

I attended her synagogue with her on the High Holy Days. The music was gorgeous. I even played at the temple on occasion when asked. I studied with the great Padarewski briefly before he died, and he spoke lovingly of his help for Jewish intellectuals in 1933 to my good friend Marsha at Curtis Institute and I found him to be a profound and generous man of spirit. He even signed my music, which I will always cherish.

Realizing she had gone astray from the point of it all, Dorothy suddenly switched gears. We are strangers in a strange land she suddenly found herself saying. Does that mean anything to you? Would you please do us a favor and help us? Dorothy paused. Please?

Dorothy could hear mumbling in the background. The little man suddenly opened the door. You have humbled me, miss. You reminded me of our roots with Moses in the Torah. We are to help the stranger in our midst. It is our destiny. We are a good people, we like to help those in need as we indeed have been helped. Yes, you may come in. But just for a time.

And with that, Edward and Dorothy stepped inside. I can’t believe you did it! Edward whispered under his breath. Shhh! Dorothy whispered back.

The room they entered was rather large, surprising from the shape of the building. It was lavishly decorated, with huge curtains draped over the windows, several large brass chandeliers covering large, round covered tables, where many well-dressed club members were comfortably seated in plush arm chairs. At the front of the room was a large buffet table in front of a large kitchen window, and several young women and men, dressed in black, the women with white aprons, black skirts, hose and shoes, and the men, with white shirts, aprons, black pants and shoes moved around the room with trays full of all sorts of pastries and coffee. There was a lot of chatter, and the faces in the room all gazed at Edward and Dorothy as they entered. When they came in, a silence fell over the room.

Please, please follow me, the little man sputtered, as he ushered them past the crowd to a small office room in the corner and pushing them inside, summarily shut the door.

The chatter outside the door resumed . Moving around a small desk covered with all sorts of papers, there was a small phone on the edge of the desk, to which the man pointed.

There is the telephone. Please make it quick, he muttered under his breath. Thinking he should probably step outside, he moved toward the door, and left, closing the door behind him.

Edward felt relieved. It seemed as if a thousand pound weight had just moved off his chest, if he could ever hold a thousand pounds of anything. In fact, the doctor had recently warned him about his heart. Dorothy, let me at that phone.

Dorothy had managed to sit in the little chair behind the desk, and was rubbing her aching legs. Oh, it was cold out there. I’m finally getting a little warmed up. Yes, you can have the chair. And with that, she stood up, moved to the side, leaning against the wall of the room.

Edward pulled his pocket reminder out of his breast pocket to his suit with his list of phone numbers. For some strange intuitive reason, even though he never figured they would need it, habit had taught him to be prepared for any emergency, and he had written the number of the hotel where they were meeting in his book. He dialed the number, and after a nervous moment, someone came in on the other end.

Hello? Edward volunteered. Hello? This is Edward Kilton calling. You have a meeting of the board of the American Amalgated Company this evening at your hotel. I am their chief financial officer, and I need to speak to the president of the board, Mr. Harvey Sommers. It is an emergency. Would you be so kind as to go and bring him to the phone?

The clerk at the hotel desk hesitated a moment….then answered with a crisp, sharp tone.

Oh….yes, Mr. Kilton, you say? Yes, we have a dinner event going on in our upstairs ballroom for your board of directors according to my roster. I will transfer this call to the phone up there if you will just please hold on for a moment. Thank you.

Edward felt relieved that he had made connections with the hotel. He knew he would feel even more relieved once he had Harvey on the line.

It wasn’t too terribly long until he heard Harvey Sommers’ crackling voice in his ear. Kilton….is that you? We have been worried. It’s not like you to ever be late. You know how important this evening is, as we are unveiling our new logo to them. What gives? Has anything happened?

Yes, Harvey, it has. We were well on our way when I needed to land our plane on the beach head on one of the islands. Some sort of engine failure I suspect.

Oh, Edward, that’s a terrible thing. Were either you or Dorothy hurt?

No, thank God, Edward replied. I turned the engine off, and we just coasted down and were fortunate to clear the trees and land on the beach. No casualties, just my pride, I suspect.

Well, that’s never a bad thing to lose. We could all have an adjustment of that from time to time. Where are you now? Harvey added.

Well…..we began walking up the beach, and Dorothy saw some lights in the distance, and we climbed through the woods and found this private Jewish club on the other side of this island, and I’m calling you from there.

I don’t know how long it is going to take to get away from here, probably another hour or so until I can get a cab to pick us up and drive us out to the hotel. That’s about the best I can do at the moment.

Well, well, well Harvey replied. Rather a different turn of events. The board was looking forward to hearing your financial report. We’re just about to finish dinner.

I suppose we could stall for an hour and have some dancing. The combo is quite good, not Tommy Dorsey, but I am sure they will oblige. Do the best you can to get here. Pass my concerns on to Dorothy. I will let everyone know about all this. Later, and Harvey hung up.

Edward clicked the receiver on the phone, and found the operator on the other end. Operator? Operator? This is an emergency. Please connect me with the police.

Three

I T WAS QUITE A WHILE BEFORE THEIR CAB FINALLY PULLED UP TO THE HILTON. EDWARD had been able to wrangle the directions from the concierge at the club they were calling from and the number for the cab company, since so many of the patrons had used it to get there.

It cost him a pretty penny to take that cab ride, the better part of the hundred dollars he kept in his wallet for such emergencies, but they were there. Edward had notified the police of the situation with his plane, asked them to notify the Coast Guard about not needing to rescue them, which he later discovered had been overlooked, and then called the airport.

Edward was surprised at himself at how calm he kept when he finally got an answer. He believed it was ultimately their failure to properly service the *** thing like they were supposed to do.

He was even angrier at himself at assuming they had done what they were contracted to do. "You know what they say about ‘assumptions’, he thought to himself. When you assume something, you make an *** of yourself." That actually brought a chuckle to his mind, considering he hadn’t found any humor at all in anything that evening, even from the start.

Oh, Edward Dorothy cooed. Will this evening ever end? I was so hoping that you could talk Harvey in letting us go home. My legs ache, I have torn my hose, I feel absolutely disheveled, I think the right heel on one of my shoes is loose from walking on the sand…..it’s a miracle I didn’t lose that heel, thank the good Lord I was smart enough to take them off….what a night!

I would love to just go home. And now we still have to face that board ordeal and I have to be pleasant to those women when I really just don’t want to be. At least we are in a warm place and off that beach.

Edward listened patiently, carefully considering the fact that, yes, he too, was nearing the end of his rope with all this, and realizing that Dorothy had pushed herself to the limits of her patience with his business affairs.

But Edward needed her, for he had plans that included her in the near future, so he had to tread very carefully with Dorothy at this point.

Dorothy, my dear, I know you are tired, and I realize the condition of your feet, and I am to be frank, amazed at how you pulled it together to help us through this, how you managed old Levi Schonberg at the club to open that door and let us use the phone….it reminded me of the reason I married you.

I don’t like your mother, and you are well aware of that…..but I have to give her credit, she has taught you the art of the schmooze which you applied quite nicely tonight. All that church work, bridge club luncheons, charity work, social gatherings with the hoi polloi and political meetings must have rubbed off on you.

And then…you having been such good friends with the Finklesteins, you should know that what I am about to do is to ask you to use that same ‘schmooze’ tactic with the lionesses on the board tonight.

Think about it. They have been dining, waiting, talking, now dancing for the last hour, they’re probably just as tired as we are at this moment, but business is business, let’s pull this together and get through it. They are doing it, we can do this. We can. We have….and we will.

Edward was in overdrive at this point. He always got like this when he felt he was under pressure to perform, and his English heritage was kicking in and giving him that last great push to go on. In actuality, Edward couldn’t help himself at this point.

But Dorothy wasn’t impressed. She knew Edward all too well. Her needs never came first. That was plainly obvious.

It was business, business, business that drove him. It was business, business, business, however, that afforded them their comfortable lifestyle and a stunning home in Deer Park and that blasted, no pun intended, swimming pool that all the neighbors had the nerve to use when they weren’t even home during the summer up at the Cape.

So….Dorothy took a deep breath, and sighed her usual sigh in situations like this. She had been here many, many times before. Oh, alright! She was surprised at herself.

She stood up, straightened her skirt, opened her pocketbook, found her compact and lipstick, and looking for the nearest ladies, proceeded to avail herself of the facility and freshen up. I’ll just be a moment, she replied.

Edward smiled within himself. "There’s a good girl," he thought. "She’s a lot tougher than I give her credit. I’ll have to do something nice for her next week when all this is over," he mused.

And they were off. The elevator doors opened in the hall right outside the ballroom, and they could hear the band music playing Sinatra standards and some pretty decent swing. Just as they approached, the door to the ballroom opened, and Harvey emerged.

Edward! Dorothy! he cried. I see you made it. And just in time. If it had gone on any longer, I would have had to renew my marriage vows to Gwen a second time.

Come in, come in, I’ll signal the band and we’ll take our seats. And with that, Harvey hustled past them to the band stand.

As they entered the room….Edward and Dorothy faced a group of about thirty men and women, husbands and wives "of long standing," Edward thought, dressed to the nines, sequins galore, and of course, mostly business black with the characteristic pearls and diamond broaches and matching earrings from Tiffany’s, no doubt.

Yes, the women were all wearing hose, as Dorothy had a particular aversion to, but in this case, due to the change in weather, had been a God-send for them.

Edward noticed that the men were all wearing tuxes. But the invitation had said formal casual" he thought. " And what is this? I’m wearing a Brooks Brothers suit!" he fumed.

Edward always dressed well. He knew it was not only a sign of his professional stature, but what was expected of him as a board member in a huge multi-national corporation. In fact, the last time he checked the figures, they were the fourth largest corporation in the entire country. They had done well, and the figures proved it.

This frustrated him. After all the evening events, now this. This was Harvey’s doing, he was sure of it. One of those little tricks Harvey liked to pull.

The inside dope around the office was that Harvey was about to announce his retirement as CEO soon, and that a board election was going to take place. Edward wanted his job, and wanted it badly. He imagined that Harvey suspected that, considering the company politics and gossip that was simmering.

Harvey had always looked at Edward as a smart upstart, he just wasn’t one of the good old boys, but Harvey knew talent when he saw it, and Edward had a lot of deep pockets of information about the board members. Talent and deep pockets, a deadly combination. The boat weekends Edward had invited them all to on the Sound on his huge sailboat had pretty much locked Edward in as a contender, and Harvey knew that, but still…..there was something about Edward and his ambition that angered him deep inside.

Perhaps he recognized himself as a younger man, perhaps he realized his indulgences had made him vulnerable to this man who didn’t seem to have any, and perhaps that was what made him angry.

"Everyone has a weakness," Harvey thought. I can’t seem to find his, however, and to be frank, that frightens me, but we’ll deal with him. Or rather, prudence has taught me that things have a way of dealing with themselves at this level. We’ll see. Things happen, Harvey thought.

Edward, summing up the situation quickly, let his heritage kick in again. He took a deep breath, and mustering a smile, began circulating in the room. Dorothy immediately summed up Edward’s dismay, and recognizing the situation as well, suddenly reverted to her own mother’s quick savvy in situations like this, and knew exactly what to do.

Dress was a separator, nothing had changed from the Middle Ages, but business was business. She had seen through the invitation, was wearing a Bon Wit Teller dress she had carefully chosen for this occasion, in fact, she had spotted the dress on a shopping trip downtown in one of their fabulous window displays, and had decided right then and there to go in, purchase it, have it fitted, which she did, and they did, and that was that. In fact, the dress had been delivered just the week before this event, and she was pleased with the alterations, they were perfect.

Dorothy understood black, as she had several performance black dresses in her wardrobe. The only problem was the lack of a diamond broach, which she had, lovely with a starburst of sapphires with