CHAPTER 32

I was in the middle of programming the final touches on the latest update when I heard our fax machine roar to life. Cara brought in a stack of applications with a note from Professor Eastman that more were on the way. He also told me that all had signed the vetting consent form. He did call my attention to one application from a University of Chicago graduate student who had volunteered that he had been arrested for petty theft at age 13, but who claimed to be on the up and up since. I found his application and, if he had been honest about his record, he was definitely a possibility. He had an excellent academic record and recommendations from two professors I knew from seminars we had attended together. I knocked off a bit early shortly after Cara had told me that she and her mom would come for Thanksgiving, but would like to invite us to dinner this coming Sunday evening. I thought that would be perfect!

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Sara and I left the house around 2:15 Saturday afternoon, driving first in the wrong direction. Remember how I said the fastest way to Northport was to go past the village and drive back? Well, the opposite was also true—the fastest way out worked the same way.

About fifteen minutes later I pulled onto the Long Island Expressway, also known to locals as the world's longest parking lot. Traffic during rush hour, actually anytime Monday through Friday morning from 6:00 through 9:00 a.m. could be impossible despite the numerous improvements implemented over the last thirty years. The same was true most weekday afternoons between 3:00 and 7:00. At this time on a Saturday afternoon, traffic was just moderate. We cruised along at more than sixty miles per hour, exiting at the Seaford-Oyster Bay Expressway north into Oyster Bay.

I could drive this route in my sleep and five minutes later I pulled into the driveway of my parents' modest home. It was part of what had been a huge housing development featuring six different models—two ranches and four colonials. Mom and Dad had one of the smaller ranches. There were only three of us, after all.

Sara's hand was in mine when I rang the bell. I wasn't the least surprised when Mom opened the door, expressed her surprise with her eyes and exclaimed, "Cara? I would never have guessed."

Sara and I looked at each other and laughed while I debated exactly how I was going to explain this. "No, Mom—this is Cara's sister, Sara." I moved into the house to hug and kiss my mother with Sara right behind me. She also hugged Mom as we moved in. Dad rose from his favorite chair and greeted us, also showing his surprise. I led Sara to the couch, holding her hand again as I thought of what to say.

"You know how down I was after discovering Daisy's diabolical plans for me. I went into work early every day and stayed late for almost a month. Then on a Friday afternoon Cara walked into my office around 5:30, locked the door, and climbed into my lap to hold and kiss me. It was one hell of a shock, believe me! It was actually Sara, her older twin, who had changed clothes with Cara a bit earlier in the afternoon. I learned the following day that they had set me up. Cara had told Sara all about me…apparently every day and they thought she would be a good match for me. They also knew that I'd never agree to being fixed up so they plotted against me." I was grinning wildly as I said that last sentence.

"It goes without saying that we've hit it off well."

"Yes, dear," Mom interrupted. "It would be impossible to miss that ring on Sara's finger."

"What ring?" That was Dad who sometimes was even more obtuse than I had ever been so Sara stood and walked to his recliner, holding the ring for him to see. "Wow! That is some engagement ring. It is an engagement ring, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mr. Gotti—John asked me earlier in the week. We've been living together for several weeks now. I couldn't be happier." She returned to the couch and leaned over to kiss my cheek. I turned to her so our lips met. It was sweet, but that was all. Anything more would have to wait until we were home.

We talked for a while until Mom asked Sara if she would help get some drinks and snacks organized in the kitchen. While they were gone I could see that Dad had something he wanted to talk about. I was always able to read him like a book. "What's up, Dad? How's work?" Dad was twenty-one years older than I was—a union plumber in nearby Roslyn. It was a skilled position that paid extremely well. Combined with my mother's salary as an office manager they cleared more than a hundred thousand after taxes. I knew that because I had done their taxes for several years.

Dad began to speak just as we heard roaring laughter coming from the kitchen. "Work is better now, but you know that we took a real beating after the recession of 2008. Your mom and I weren't able to save much, if anything, for the next four years. I don't know if we'll be able to retire at sixty-five the way we planned."

"Not to worry, Dad—I'll start accounts for you and Mom on Monday with Vanguard. They have a bunch of good no-load funds. I have an advisor there who will give me good advice, I'm sure. I can give each of you $12,000 a year without tax implications and Sara can do the same once we're married so that's what I'll do unless he comes up with something better and doesn't ask me if I can afford it. I can. I just finished a big deal with the Pentagon. I should clear thirty million the first year and about twenty a year after that so—yes—I can afford it. Please don't worry, Dad, You have eighteen years before you retire. Eighteen times twenty-four thousand is more than four hundred thousand and by the time you add in compounded interest and dividends you should have more than six hundred thousand combined by then and we'll continue every year during your retirement. I'll also pay for a big insurance policy for both you and Mom so you won't have to worry about what might happen if one of you dies. I know for a fact that life insurance has no tax implications. Insurance policies are not considered to be part of one's estate."