18. Ned
NED
Ned was not a man of violence, but he wanted to kill Dick Delancey. Who the hell did he think he was going behind Ned’s back while he was away at a meeting and pulling his son from his new job?
Ingrid was working late again, and it was well after dinner when she finally came home. Ned had already cooked, cleaned the kitchen, and walked Fritzy. He’d tried Dick Delancey both at home and on his cell, to no avail. He’d asked both kids multiple times to go for a swim with him in the pool; he needed to unwind. For the first time in ages, Darcy was in a happy mood, but she’d stayed on the phone giggling with Lily all evening. Adam, who still wanted to be left alone, was watching car videos. “I need to go back to the office,” he kept saying. “I only got through half of the invoices.”
“I know, buddy,” Ned said. “I’m trying to fix the misunderstanding.”
It wasn’t true. The only misunderstanding was Dick Delancey’s sense of authority. Ned knew from Neiman Shrive that Dick was the only board member who opposed Adam’s hiring, in favor of a friend he’d wanted the job to go to. He also knew Dick was uncomfortable around Adam; he saw it in the way Dick addressed Darcy and Ingrid, but always looked right past Adam as if he weren’t there. And in the way Dick looked at Adam, on the rare occasion he did. Well, it was time Dick was enlightened about a few things.
Ingrid found him pacing up in their room, trying Dick’s cell phone. She looked as exhausted as he felt.
“Have you eaten?” he asked. Bad news on an empty stomach was a deadly combo for Ingrid.
She kicked off her shoes. “I just want to get out of these work clothes and into bed. After all those showings, the Boston couple is waffling on the Tree House. Maybe the other agents were right. This house is impossible to sell.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. Ingrid had been killing herself on that sale.
She tugged open her closet door and stood staring into it like she’d forgotten what she was doing there. “It’s been a long day.”
Ned hated that what he had to say would make it even longer. “Honey, something happened at the club today.” He went and closed the bedroom door.
Ingrid was a rat terrier with a bone when she sensed anything wrong with her kids. “What happened? Was it about Adam? It was Adam.” She did that, too—drew conclusions without even letting him finish a sentence—but damned if she weren’t usually right.
“Dick Delancey doesn’t think he should work in the office. He assigned Adam to kitchen work only.”
“What?” Her outrage was predictable. “Why not? Based on what information?”
“I haven’t been able to reach him. The only information I have is that he’s an asshole.” Ned flopped on the bed.
“Damn it, Ned. This is the first job Adam has liked. And it got him out of the house every day. You have to get it back for him.” She looked at him imploringly. “For all of us.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
She rummaged irritably through the dresser drawer and yanked out her pajamas. “Are you sure about that?”
Ned did not like the doubt in her tone. “Of course I’m sure.”
“Then how did Adam lose the job to begin with?” She shook her head. “I don’t know, Ned. I know you love that place, but that board seems out of control lately. They put all these crazy expectations on you but are never supportive of changes you try to make. This is just one more example.” She paused in her outrage to undress. Ned was instantly distracted. His eyes traveled up her legs to the curve of her stomach to her breasts and paused there. “This is your family they’re going after.”
He sensed that she was referring to some invisible line between them. Were they not on the same side of this? “No one is going after anyone, honey,” he said. “And it’s not us against them. Adam belongs at the club just as much as anyone else.”
Ingrid snorted. Just the way Darcy had, in his office earlier. It gave him a bad feeling. “Don’t you believe that?”
“Ned.” She tugged her nightgown over her head and her lovely breasts disappeared.
“Mayhaven has changed. Or maybe we have. I don’t know.” She sighed. “I just hope you can figure this out as quickly as you seem to think you can.”
He waited as she stalked down the hall to see the kids. Ingrid was a good mother. Here she was working her tail off at the realty office and still holding their household together. If Adam didn’t have a job to go to and insisted on staying home, he knew it would make her feel like she had to, too. She’d worked too hard for Ned to let that happen.
When Ingrid returned, she had a suspicious look on her face. “Darcy’s in a good mood. What happened?”
Ned smiled, ruefully. Damned if he knew. Darcy used to be in a good mood most of the time. “I’m worried about her.”
“Her moods are all over the place this summer. I think she should talk to someone.” Ingrid had been suggesting they find Darcy a therapist all summer. Ned had thought she was getting ahead of herself; teenage emotions were about as stable as an electrical storm. But lately he had to wonder if Ingrid were right.
“I think she should talk to a college recruiter. Maybe that would get her head back in the game.”
“Ned.”
“What? College isn’t going to pay for itself. And that was her ticket—”
“Stop, please. If she’s ever going to come back to golf, it has to be her idea.” Ingrid pulled the covers back and climbed into bed next to him. “We may have to figure something else out for college.”
Ned rolled onto his back and stared at a spot on the ceiling that probably needed to be repainted. “I never should’ve had the damn pool redone.”
“We had to do something. It was turning into a frog pond.” It was true, they’d inherited the pool with the house, and it had been a crumbling, leaking mess ever since. But the pool was a small price to pay. They’d afforded a house, albeit humble, in a good town with good schools. It was worth every sacrifice he’d made at work to make that happen.
“Ingrid, you know I’d do anything for our family.”
“Yes, honey.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “I also know we don’t always see things the same way. You like to tell me to be more positive, and sometimes I want to tell you to be more realistic.”
Ned knew what his family thought of him; that he was sentimental, head in the clouds. But the world was a dark place, too. He’d pushed away darkness since childhood and now, as a father, it was his job to keep it from his children. “I’m trying, Ingrid.”
He sank back into the pillows and she rested her head on his chest. “Sometimes I wish I could be as optimistic as you are,” she said. “If Adam isn’t working, there’s no way I can leave him sitting home alone all summer.”
Ned pulled her closer against him. “It’s not fair.” When the kids were babies they’d struck a deal: she wanted to stay at home and he would work. When she went back into realty, they knew it would be an adjustment.
“You don’t have to work,” he said, carefully. “If you don’t want to.” Things were tight, but he didn’t want her spreading herself too thin.
Ingrid sat up and looked at him. “But I do. I need to, for myself.”
Her eyes were so green, just like Darcy’s. And so full of determination. “Then we’ll figure this out.”
Not long after Ingrid turned out the light, her soft snores filled the room. Normally the cadence of them lulled Ned to sleep. But that night he tossed and turned, the weight of his whole world sitting on his shoulders.
First thing the next morning Ned headed straight for the pro shop. Sure enough, Dick Delancey’s reserved time slot was written in. He wasn’t really supposed to do that, but there it was.
“Beautiful day today, eh, boss?” Vince was all smiles and jocularity, but it didn’t have its usual effect. “Been a while since I’ve seen you put that A-game to good use. You heading out for a round?”
“Not today,” Ned said, glumly. He hadn’t played yet that summer. It was the irony of being president of a golf club.
Vince shook his head. “I dunno, you’ve been going nonstop. If you change your mind, I’ll grab you a cart and set you up with some lunch.”
He wished Ingrid was there. This was one of the reasons Ned loved this place so much: people like Vince and the convivial spirit.
“Thanks, Vince. Has Dick come in yet?”
“You just missed him.” Vince nodded out the window toward the first tee box.
“He’s been hooking ’em lately. Real shame.” Vince winked. He wasn’t a huge Delancey fan, either. It was well known that Dick never tipped the pros or the caddies.
“Real shame, indeed.”
Outside Ned found Dick shoving his driver into his golf bag, angrily. “Tough drive?”
“Just warming up,” Dick said, fixing him with his Cheshire cat grin. “What can I help you with, Ned?”
Alrighty then, he’d skip the niceties. “You pulled Adam out of the office?”
Dick didn’t hesitate. “I did.” Nor did he offer apology or explanation.
“That wasn’t your place,” Ned said. “What was the reason?”
“Oh, come on, Ned. We both know our kids have privileges here because of us.” Ned would not allow himself to be sucked into any fraternizing.
“Dick, you must know the board posted the part-time office job themselves. Adam applied and he’s good at it. Is there some kind of budgetary issue I’m unaware of?” Adam would do that job for free, but Ned wasn’t about to offer that just yet.
Dick scuffed the ground with his toe; Ned really wished he wouldn’t do that. “Your son is a good kid, but there is no room for error with member accounts.”
“Has there been an error?” Dick didn’t say anything, and Ned knew then for sure: this was about something else.
“The board and I don’t think it’s appropriate that a kid has access to confidential member information. Accounts and charges are private. So are methods of payment.”
Ned didn’t say anything.
“He’s just a kid,” Dick said finally.
“Not just any kid,” Ned said.
“Come on, Ned.”
“No, you come on, Dick. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
Dick held out one hand. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Let’s not take it there, Birch. This is unnecessary.”
“You already did. This isn’t about confidentiality or any of that nonsense. This is about Adam. Because he’s on the spectrum. And you don’t understand it or don’t like it, I can’t say for sure, but this is about you , Dick.”
“You can take this to the board and file a complaint. But it won’t change anything.”
Dick was not going to budge. If Ned took this to the board it would take even more time and draw more attention to Ned’s position. Maybe, Ned realized, that was what Dick had wanted all along.
“Your job is up for review this fall, Ned. Some might say that gifting your son a highly sensitive position was an overstep on your part. I’m happy to open this for further review if you insist.”
Fists clenched, Ned watched Dick Delancey motor off in the cart. It was little solace to see him stop a mere fifty yards away to play his crappy drive.
Back in the office, he found a file sitting on his desk affixed with a note from Jane: New Member Applicants . This was the last thing he cared to deal with right now.
But he needed some good news. After his robust membership drive that summer, Ned hoped for around twenty new applications, but he’d take fifteen. Hell, he’d take ten.
“Let there be at least ten,” he whispered as he flipped open the file and scanned the list. It didn’t take him long: there were four measly applications. When he got to the third one, he slammed his fist on the desk: Stan and Josephine Crenshaw, Maple Drive.