Penelope's Suitors

Chapter 02

Chapter 2

Spring, 2006

Ted gave up sleep, got out of bed, and took a luxuriously long shower. After he dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt, he steeled himself to investigate his refrigerator. Of course, there was nothing at all, except soda, beer, and a few condiments. He grabbed a jacket from his closet and headed out.

Carlos was on duty at the door. “Good morning, Mr. J. Welcome back. I have your mail whenever you want it.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure it’s just bills. No rush.”

Carlos laughed. “Anything you say, Mr. J.”

He walked to a nearby convenience store. It was one of those rare New York days that came in early spring, after the winter cold but before summer heat and humidity, and the sky was clear. He bought some orange juice and a bagel and cream cheese, and returned to his apartment. He ate his breakfast, then made a call from his cell.

"Bernice? It’s Ted."

"Welcome home," said the receptionist. “I heard you came back. Are you going to take a few days off? You must still be jet-lagged.”

"I may be in tomorrow. But meanwhile, something came up. Do you know if Miranda is around?"

"I think I saw her working in her cubicle."

"Could you transfer me?"

"Right away."

He heard the click of the transfer.

"Miranda Foster."

He imagined her sitting at her desk, with her glasses periodically slipping down her nose.

"It's the globe-trotting international correspondent," he said.

"Welcome home. Are you officially back?"

"Not officially. Larry thought you were completely incapable of writing the Tolford obit, so he asked me to offer a hand. Anyway, I'm sure you found out more about him than I would."

"Ah, but you knew him, didn't you?"

"Slightly. He had done some business with my Dad, and I worked at his resort as a teenager."

"Our file was pretty complete. On him anyway. His wife died many years ago, and he never remarried. We don't seem to have much on her."

"She was Greek, and much younger. He was well into his 40s before he married, and she died not long after their second daughter was born."

"That was…" he heard her sorting through a pile of papers on her desk, "…Ariadne. Penelope seems to be some sort of do-gooder lawyer and sits on the Tolford Foundation Board. The younger one…is a divorced mother, and I don't have any occupation listed."

"I'll see if I can update the file. I'm going to his memorial service on Friday and his daughters will be there."

"I'm jealous. It's supposed to be one of the last great mansions in Manhattan still privately held. Take notes."

"What kind of reporter would I be without my notebook? Anyway, I've been there before. It's stupendous. Call me if you need anything. I'm sure you won't, but call if you do. Maybe I'll come in tomorrow."

"See you then. Now unlike some, I have to get back to work." He imagined her pushing her glasses up her nose once more as he rang off.

His next call was to TRED.

“Tolford Real Estate Development. How may I direct your call?”

“Vera Morton please.” A few seconds later, he was speaking to the weirdly chipper voice that could only belong to a public relations rep.

“Vera Morton, TRED PR.”

“Hi, my name is Ted Jellinek—”

“Oh, yes, you're speaking at the service. I have you on my list. We’ll be so glad to have you there.” She sounded as if she were arranging a conference. Was she putting together a funeral brochure? She gave him the time, 11:00 on Friday, at the Uptown Club, and a buffet lunch to follow at the Tolford mansion, by invitation only.

“Would you do me a great favor, and see if Victor Kaplan is on the list for the memorial service? He’s with Kaplan Centrex Funds.”

“I know them, but I didn’t realize that Mr. Tolford was involved with them. Was he on their board? I’m looking here, and I don’t see his name however. I could talk to Penelope, if you think Victor Kaplan should be on the list—I know he’s a very big fund manager…”

“I’m sure the list is fine, Ms. Morton. It was just a casual question. Please don’t bother Penelope. I’m sure she has more than enough on her mind.”

“It’s just that Mr. Tolford was sick and tired so easily these last weeks, and Penelope so preoccupied. I didn’t realize he even knew Victor Kaplan.”

“Maxwell Tolford knew him. We all knew each other. But it was a very long time ago.”

After hanging up, he spent a half hour searching for every mention of Maxwell online.

Maxwell really was gone, and Ted suddenly realized he had no reason to postpone the plan he had been rolling around his mind for years. More than a plan, a promise he had once made, to himself. He could talk to Penelope about it.

He thought about it for a while, then began making notes for a eulogy.





The efficient Ms. Morton had no experience running a memorial service, but she was not lacking in energy. Using the only template she had—a press conference—she gamely tackled this new job. She had ordered beautiful but not overly ornate flowers to decorate the largest meeting room in the Victorian clubroom. By the doorway on a table Ted saw copies of the corporate press release about Maxwell’s death, short biographies of the three speakers, and a handsome silver cup with TRED pens.

He had no trouble picking out Vera. Like every midlevel PR manager, she was about 28, with short, perfectly cut hair, a dark suit, a white blouse that complimented her figure without exaggerating it, and an indefatigable smile. Even at a memorial service.

“You must be Vera.”

“Yes! And you must be Ted Jellinek. We’ve never met but I recognize your face from the picture with your column. Thank you so much for coming. I know the family and the company appreciate it. You'll be speaking right after his CFO."

“Fine. I have my comments.” He patted the pocket of his dark pinstripe jacket. It was his one good suit, which came out of his closet two or three times a year. “Are Penelope or Ariadne around?” He didn't seen them in the room.

“Yes, I saw them a minute ago…oh, excuse me one moment.” A man in his fifties, who looked like he wore a good suit every day of his life, entered, and from the way Vera greeted him, Ted assumed he was a TRED executive.

Ted wandered along the club's corridors, past oil portraits of silver-haired former presidents, the older ones sporting wing collars and muttonchops. He heard muffled yells in Spanish from a kitchen somewhere in the back. Another turn, and he saw two women stood talking alone, very closely, almost like football players in a huddle.

The taller one stood with her face turned mostly from him, but there was no mistaking her, with the long black braid that went down her back. Anyway, he could have picked her out with just a glimpse of the sharply angled face that the years hadn't changed.

Ted could better see the woman Penelope was talking to, serious and with the same pale complexion—even a casual observer could see they were sisters. But her features were softer and more traditionally feminine. She did not have a braid, Ted was surprised to note; her hair was neatly bobbed above her shoulder. And although her dress fit well, she didn’t seem comfortable in it. Ted hadn't seen her in years, but he knew who she was too.

He suddenly felt like an intruder in the nearly empty hallway, and thought he should walk away, but couldn't bring himself to do so. Then Ariadne became restless and started looking around. Her eyes lit on Ted, and she grinned.

“Ted! I’m glad you could come today. Penelope—it’s Ted.” It took Penelope just a second to wipe away a look of annoyance at her sister and replace it with an indulgent smile. Ariadne practically ran to him, and gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “I haven’t seen you since…” she trailed off. Neither said anything for a moment—they knew how long it had been.

He quickly changed the subject. “You still had a braid when I last saw you.” Ariadne self-consciously touched her hair.

“I cut it off a few weeks later, as a 16th birthday present to myself.” Penelope stood by silently watching them. Feeling like an arrival at an 8th grade dance, Ted kissed her on the cheek, and she allowed it.

“Once again, my deepest sympathy on your loss. He was terrific guy.” Both women murmured their thanks. He had a few moments to look at them. Ariadne was virtually a stranger. The teenaged girl had disappeared—maybe in the smile when she saw him, for a moment. She must be 35 now, he realized.

Penelope, of course, he had seen more frequently. Last night, in bed, he thought back and figured out it had been a few months ago, when he ran into her unexpectedly at a fundraiser. She was on the board, and he was covering it when someone else couldn’t make it. Had she changed? Maybe around the eyes? Well, it was her father’s funeral, and even Penelope might not be in complete possession of herself.

“We have to catch up,” said Ariadne, and then remembered herself, with a sidelong glance at her sister. “I mean, I’d like to talk about Dad with you, with someone who knew him back then. Will you be coming back for lunch?” asked Ariadne.

“Of course.” He almost smiled at her enthusiasm.

Penelope touched Ariadne on the arm. “We should head to the room. I think we’re ready to start,” she said. Arm-in-arm, the Tolford sisters walked down the hallway, with Ted following. Penelope suddenly stopped and turned. "Ariadne, could you go ahead? I'll be there in a moment." Ariadne took in Ted and Penelope with the same knowing smile she used when she was an adolescent, then walked on.

“I'm glad you're here, Ted,” Penelope said, looking at him intently with her dark Mediterranean eyes. "I want to speak to you after lunch."

"Of course," he said. "Whatever I can do."

"I think you can guess what I want to discuss." Without another word, she turned and followed her sister down the hall.



Summer, 1986

Penelope gently disengaged herself from Ted and turned around. "Where's Matthew? I thought he was right behind us." Through the Hall window they could see a young man was walking along the docks and examining the outboards.

"Matthew!" yelled Ariadne. He turned around, and she waved him in. He wasn't particularly tall but he gave an impression of size from a well-muscled build apparent even under his tee shirt. His hair was just long enough to part.

"This is Matthew Roebling," said Penelope. "He's the new mechanic. We went to high school together. Meet Vic Kaplan and Ted Jellinek."

He looked them in the eye and gave them bone-crushing handshakes. "I'm pleased to meet you," he said. "I'm looking forward to working with you." Vic clapped him on the back. "Nice meeting you too, Matt. You gotta stay around tonight—we've got beer. Say, what kind of car do you have?"

Vic and Ted showed Matthew the machine shop behind the counter, and he handled the tools with professional appraisal.

"Come on Ariadne, we ought to be heading up," said Penelope.

"Will you guys make a fire tonight on the beach?" asked Ariadne.

"We might," said Vic, with a teasing smile.

"You'd better. I'm coming down." She glanced at Penelope, already heading out the back door, then smirked at Ted. "And maybe I'll get her excellency to come down too." She ran after her sister, her braid swinging after her.

Matthew continued to catalog the tools, and Vic and Ted returned to their camping equipment.

"We need more cleaning rags," said Ted, as they pulled another load of dusty portable stoves from the shelves in the back. "I’ll get some from Joan's supply shed." He stepped out the back door to see that Penelope and Ariadne had not gone yet, but were talking to two other girls. One was almost as tall as Penelope, with an impressively statuesque figure nicely set off with a white two-piece, and a mane of auburn hair. She wore a serene expression that said to Ted, "I know just how beautiful I am."

The other was petite and pretty, with short blond hair and an athletic figure. She wore a one-piece red Speedo suit, and probably didn't realize the extent to which she became nearly invisible standing next to her more dramatic companion.

"Ted," said Penelope, with a knowing smile. "Some more co-workers to introduce. Laurie Dufresne, who will be a waitress at the Twelve Pines diner." The resort owned a diner across the road, popular for guests who tired of cooking, or who wanted to give their children an ice cream treat after dinner.

The tall girl extended her hand and beamed. "Ted Jellinek—pleased to meet you," said Ted.

"And," continued Penelope, "Mary-Lou Kelly, who will be the life guard on the beach." Mary-Lou gave a more business-like handshake. "Ariadne and I have to go, but I am sure I can count on you, Ted, to introduce them around," she said.

"Come on in," said Ted, welcoming them into the Hall. Penelope quickly turned and started up the hill again. Ariadne looked back, reluctantly leaving what she suspected would be a party, but followed Penelope.

Vic hardly glanced up when Ted re-entered, but did a double-take when he saw the girls. When he saw Laurie.

"Hello!" he said. "How can I help you ladies?" Laurie beamed again and Mary-Lou rolled her eyes. Matthew stuck his head out from the machine shop, and Vic made the introductions.

"We wanted to say hello," said Mary-Lou, "but we were really heading to the beach for a swim."

"It’s awfully late for a swim," said Vic. "Let me get you some sodas.”

"Please," said Laurie. "We have a few minutes." They sat on the stools by the counter as Vic grabbed a couple of diet Cokes.

"You don't sound local," said Laurie. "You guys from New York City?"

"Ted and I are. Matthew here is a local—but didn’t you all go to the same high school?"

"We're from Fort Bramwell, south of here," said Mary-Lou. She turned to Matthew. "You must've gone to North Lake."

"Yup. Say, your last name is Kelly? Any relation to Tim and Tom Kelly?"

She laughed and nodded. "My famous big brothers, the Kelly Twins."

"They were the toughest football players in the county. Until they graduated we couldn’t make any headway against them."

"Yes—I remember you. You were the North Lake quarterback. I go to all the games, when I don’t have swim team practice."

Ted was lost as Matthew and Mary-Lou got deeper into their discussion of county varsity athletics. Vic had already manipulated Laurie into a tête-à-tête at the far end of the counter. Or maybe it was the other way around. They were leaning in closely and talking low.

Getting bored, Ted started looking around, so he was the first to see the new arrival. He was tall and rail-thin, with a shock of hair over one eye, perhaps by design and perhaps by accident. His tee shirt advertised a rock band Ted had never heard of.

The figure paused and took in the surroundings, with satisfaction, then focused on the group.

"I'm looking for Vic or Ted."

"I'm Ted."

"I'm William Zelnick. I ran into the caretaker—Stanislaus—and he said to drop my stuff at the staff cabin and come down here and ask for you." His eyes wandered over the Hall again as he crossed the floor, as if he couldn't believe it.

Ted made another round of introductions, then Vic went back to chatting up Laurie, and Mary-Lou and Matthew returned to their dissection of the previous year's football season.

"Here—let me show you around. We keep all the stuff in the back." Ted showed William the storage bins and racks, and went over the procedures for rentals and helping the guests.

"This is a cool place," said William. "What a neat old building! I have to play in here."

"What do you play?"

"Guitar. I brought it up. I bet the acoustics are great here."

"Are you a fellow New Yorker?"

"Yeah, from Manhattan."

"Stanislaus said your father did some work with Maxwell Tolford."

"Yeah. I worked last summer at my father's company in Jersey, but hated it. He mentioned it to Maxwell, and that's how I got here. I think this will sure beat Dad's stifling hot loading dock."

"I'm from Manhattan too," said Ted. "What school did you go to?"

"Oh, this one and that," he said. "Is this the camping equipment? I bet camping out here is great, just alone in the state park with no one to hassle you."

Ted looked at his watch. "Help me put away this stuff. We're closing up in a bit and then opening tomorrow at 9:00." Up front again, they saw that the girls had left.

"They finally left for their swim. But they said they'd come tonight for the fire," said Vic.

"Fire?" asked William.

"There's a hearth on the beach," explained Ted. "When we’re in the mood, we build a fire after dinner and everyone hangs out." He looked at Vic. "And Vic is definitely in the mood tonight."

"Look who's talking," Vic said. "Maybe Ariadne will convince your 'friend' to come too." He turned to Matthew. "Come on back after dinner."

"Sure. Thanks, I think I will."

"Is it cool if I bring my guitar?" asked William.

"Are you any good?" William gave a lopsided smile and shrugged. "Go ahead. It'll be fun."

Vic strolled out the front door, and looked toward the beach, where Mary-Lou was swimming with sure strokes from the beach to the float. Laurie was already standing on the float, combing her fingers through her dripping hair and raising her face to the setting sun.

"Look at her figure," said Vic. “I have a feeling she's going to be the star attraction at the diner. I think I'm in love.”

“Aren't you moving just a little fast?” said Ted, both unkindly and unfairly.

“You're right, Ted. It would be so much better to spend years chasing her, the way you've been chasing Penelope." He shook his head and went back to watching Laurie.

"Nice view," said William, who had walked up behind them. Vic turned and grinned.