Envy(19)
“I thought I’d go tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
“I need to know if I should get excited about this book or drop it. The only way to find out is to talk to the author.”
He rounded his desk and gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. “Then let’s go out tonight, just the two of us. I’ll have Cindy make reservations. Where would you like to go?”
“My choice?”
“Your choice.”
“How about having Thai brought in? We’ll eat at home for a change.”
“Excellent. I’ll pick the wine.”
They were almost through his office door when he drew up short. “Damn! I just remembered, I have a meeting tonight.”
She groaned. “With whom?”
He named an agent who represented several notable authors. “Join us. He’d be delighted. Then we can go somewhere alone for a nightcap.”
“I can’t be out all evening, Noah. I have things to do before I can leave town, packing included.”
“I’ve postponed this engagement twice,” he said with regret. “If I ask for another rain check, he’ll think I’m avoiding him.”
“No, you can’t do that. How late will you be?”
He winced. “As you know, this guy likes to talk, so it might be late. Certainly later than I’d like.” Sensing her disappointment, he stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, Maris. Do you want me to cancel?”
“No. He’s an important agent.”
“Had I known you planned to go away, I—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Reed,” his assistant said from just beyond the doorway. “They’re waiting for you and Mrs. Matherly-Reed in the conference room.”
“We’re coming.” Once his assistant had withdrawn, he turned back to Maris. “Duty calls.”
“Always.”
“Forgive me?”
“Always.”
He gave her a hard, quick hug. “You’re the most understanding wife in the history of marriage. Is it any wonder I’m crazy about you?” He kissed her briskly, then nudged her toward the door. “After you, darling.”
“Envy” Ch. 1
Eastern State University, Tennessee, 1985
Members of the fraternity thought it brilliant of their chapter founders to have designed and built their residence house to correlate with the diamond shape of the fraternity crest.
But what they attributed to genius had actually come about by happenstance.
When shopping for a lot on which to build their fraternity house, those thrifty young men in the class of 1910 had purchased the least expensive property available, a deep corner lot a few blocks from campus whose owner was eager to sell. Its appeal was not its shape or location but its price. They acquired it cheaply.
So the lot came first, not the architectural renderings. They designed a structure that would fit on their lot; they didn’t choose a lot that would accommodate their design. After the fact, some members might have noticed that the house was indeed diamond-shaped like their crest, but the similarity was coincidental.
Then, in 1928, a university planning and expansion committee fortuitously decided that the main avenue bisecting the campus should be converted into a landscaped mall open only to pedestrian traffic. They rerouted motor traffic onto the street that passed in front of the unusually shaped chapter house.
Consequently, through no genius of the founders, this location at a key intersection gave the fraternity a commanding presence on campus that was coveted by every other.
The front of the three-story house faced the corner, with wings extending at forty-five-degree angles from either side of it. Between the wings in the rear of the building were a limited and insufficient number of parking spaces, basketball hoops sans baskets, overflowing trash cans, two rusty charcoal grills, and a chain-link-fence dog run that was occupied by Brew, the fraternity’s chocolate Lab mascot.
The building’s facade was much more imposing. The stone path leading up to the entry was lined with Bradford pear trees that blossomed snowy white each year, providing natural decoration for the fraternity’s annual Spring Swing formal.
Photographs of these trees in full bloom frequently appeared on the covers of university catalogues and brochures. This bred resentment in rival fraternities. Whenever threats of chain saws circulated, pledges were ordered to post twenty-four-hour guard. Not only would the fraternity lose face on campus if their trees were cut down, their residence hall would look naked without them.
In autumn the leaves of the Bradford pears turned the vibrant ruby red they were on this particular Saturday afternoon. The campus was uncharacteristically quiet. The football team was playing an away game. Had the team been at home, the front door of the fraternity house would have been open. Music would have been blaring from it. It would be a raucous gathering place for the members, their dates, their parents, and their alums.
Game-day traffic would be backed up for miles, and because every vehicle had to pass through this crossroads to reach the stadium, the members would enjoy a front-row seat for this bumper-to-bumper parade. They’d jeer at the rival team’s fans and flirt with the coeds, who flirted back and sometimes, upon a spontaneous invitation, would leave the vehicles they were in to join the party inside the house. It was documented that several romances, and a few marriages, had originated this way.