CHAPTER 21
NAOMI’S FOLLY
Having prospective clients to impress, he had long ago sold the Nissan Altima, that he had purchased in Philadelphia. He now leased a Range Rover. This is what he drove to Naomi’s beach house. It was in a gated community, only a few minutes’ drive away.
Each house was on at least an acre of land. Before the guard opened the gate, he phoned Naomi for clearance. As he pulled into the driveway of the beach house, John estimated that it was probably worth more than double what his golf course was worth.
It was two hundred feet from the road and backed onto the beach. John thought it would be best described as Italian modern. If had lots of glass and terraces on two levels. He spied a covered garage, for at least six cars, underneath the house. A long circular driveway led to the wide steps that wound up to the first level entrance. The pink stucco and the rounded arches gave it a very Mediterranean look.
John left his car at the base of the stairs and made his way to enormous double doors. He rang the doorbell. Its chimes announced his presence.
He gave a start when Naomi’s disembodied voice came out of hidden speakers, “I’m almost ready. The door is unlocked. Come in and make yourself at home. I’ll be right down.”
He pushed the door open and entered an impressive marble lobby. It would have done justice to the head office of a mid-size bank. An elaborate, wooden spiral staircase floated up to the upper level. He noticed an elevator beside it. From a skylight, forty feet above him, sunlight poured into the lobby. The interior was wood with contrasting soft pastel walls and furniture.
Someone, with taste and money, had amassed a huge, eclectic, collection of paintings that covered every wall. He walked over and admired them. They were originals, by artists that he was familiar with, but had only seen their work in photographs or in art museums. He was always looking for new ideas that he could incorporate into his own paintings. Like a kid in a candy store, he drank in the collection.
Before he saw her, he could hear Naomi’s high heels tapping towards him on the marble floor. He turned and marveled at the transformation, from golf jock to understated elegance. She took his hand and led him towards the back of the house. A wall of glass opened out onto a spacious deck where a hundred people could have easily mingled. The sea view stretched, unobstructed, over the beach to the horizon. The deck surrounded an oval swimming pool with a hot tub adjoining it. A long wooden bridge, stretched from the deck, over the dunes, almost to the water’s edge.
“Impressed?” she asked.
“Yes, but rather over the top, isn’t it?”
“It was very important to my grandfather that no one fail to recognize that he was a man of means. I loved this place, and he knew it. He left me fifty percent of this beach house and fifty percent to my father. I’ve got great memories of the summers spent here with my grandparents.”
‘It’s worth a small fortune.”
“True but it was just this magical place that I loved. While I grew up in Baltimore, it was never home. Within days of my grandfather’s death, I moved here and I’ve been here ever since.
“You live here by yourself?”
“No. There is a cleaner, Joe the maintenance man and Margaret the cook-housekeeper. My parents often come over for the weekends. In the summer, they will spend several weeks here.”
“What does your father do? Is he retired?”
“No, Howard Green has always done whatever he wants to do. He was an only child who inherited most of his father’s investments. As a major shareholder in several companies, he either chairs or sits on their board of directors. That keeps him busy. He and I own the controlling shares of Greenline Engines. He is Chairman of that board.”
“Ready for your drive?”
“Sure, let’s go. It’s such a nice day, why don’t we take my convertible. You can drive. Park your car in the garage out of the sun.”
They made their way to Highway 1 and drove north through the flat, swampy, Delaware countryside. The only real hills in the entire state are on its northern border with Pennsylvania. Even those hills are only a few hundred feet high.
The dullness of the countryside encouraged conversation. They compared the courses they had studied at university and the places they had visited. Naomi was surprised to learn that he had lived two years in Paris and that he spoke fluent French. She was even more surprised to find that he had a greater love for art than he did for golf. She said that she wanted to see his paintings. To give him the incentive to show her, his paintings, she told him that she had bought all the paintings, that he had seen in the beach house. This led to her telling him how boring she found the constant demands of investing her, ever growing, dividend income.
She confessed that being on the Greenline’s board was a farce. It had not taken her long to realize that Howard selected directors to rubber stamp any action he wished to see carried out. None complained. Their compensation for attending board meetings was generous, and each year they received generous stock options.
Before they knew it, they had reached Dover. The multiscreen movie theatre was just off Highway 13. Not having any specific movie in mind, they chose the first one at the top of playbill. It was a farce about a depressed young woman intent on committing suicide. She is first delayed by a lawyer wanting to write her will, then a funeral director wanting to sell her a coffin and later by a life insurance salesman intent upon selling her a policy before it was too late. The woman becomes so angry and disgusted with these vultures that she refuses to commit suicide.
After the movie, they sought a sea food restaurant that John had known, called Denny’s Hideaway. On its patio, they ate grilled skate and sipped champagne as they watched a fiery red sun fall below the horizon. John sipped his wine and stared at Naomi.
“Why are you staring?”
“This morning, I woke up to a day that was just like any other day, and then you entered it. I don’t think my life will ever be the same.”
" I thought only I felt that way."
“You’re kidding me?
“No, you’re something else. Raymond, your determination, and fearlessness, scares me. Yet, it attracts me. I scare away most men. They recognize that I don’t need them and that they can’t manipulate me or dominate me. Why aren’t you scared of me?”
“Scared? Why? Because you could buy me and sell me with your pocket cash? You inherited your money. I got mine the hard way. If you lost your money, what would you do? If I lost my money, I know how to get it back. No, I don’t envy you, nor am I intimidated by you. I suppose, in a way I am sorry for you. You will never truly appreciate what success is until you have come from nothing. You can never realize the joy of knowing that everything, is an opportunity. I stare because I wonder where we go from here?”
“I haven't got a clue. I think we play it by ear. Whatever will be, will be.”
John smiled and raised his glass to toast her, as he repeated, “Whatever will be, will be.”
On the drive back to Benji Beach they were quiet, both lost in thought as they considered their pasts and their futures. When they pulled into Naomi’s driveway, she asked, “Raymond, can you come in for a drink?”
“Sure,” John replied, as he pulled her convertible into a parking spot in the garage beside the elevator. In the elevator, Naomi pressed the button for the second level, not the first. She grabbed John's hand and led him across the hall to her bedroom. She closed the bedroom door and melted into his arms. They undressed each other and took their time exploring each other’s bodies with their mouths. John picked her up and carried her over to the bed.
They never closed the drapes. Hours later, the red ball of the morning sun climbed out of the Atlantic Ocean. It woke John with a start. Naomi had curled her body around him. Her breasts were deliciously warm and soft against his back. He wanted to just lie there, but he had responsibilities.
As gently as possible, he extricated himself from the comfort of the bed. Without opening her eyes, Naomi murmured, "Don't Leave. Stay. I want to remember this morning for the rest of my life."
“Okay, a few minutes longer, but running a golf course is an early morning job. I like to impress upon the troops that the boss is out there slaving away at sunrise, just like I expect them to be.”
“But you are slaving away at dawn. You have a very important customer to satisfy.”
John laughed before responding, “You are a smart ass aren't you.” He drew her close to him and kissed her.
Later, lying there sated, he saw Naomi lean over and pick up the phone beside the bed. He next heard her say, “Margaret please bring breakfast for two up to the dressing room.”
There was a pause then she said, “The usual, fruit, scrambled eggs, toast, orange juice and coffee.”
John laughed. Naomi sat up, looked at him and said, “Why are you laughing?”
“You have got to be kidding. I get breakfast too. This is a new experience.”
Naomi just smiled and said, “You’ll find a robe inside your dressing room. It is through that door.”
She pointed to a door on John’s side of the bed. He got out of bed and opened the door. A large dressing room led him to a private bathroom.
In a drawer, next to the sink, he found a razor, shaving cream, deodorant, toothpaste, a toothbrush, and shampoo. After a shower and shave, he put on the terry-cloth robe he had found in the dressing room closet and returned to the bedroom.
Naomi wasn’t there. He heard water running. He tapped on the door on her side of the bedroom. She told him to enter.
Naomi’s dressing room was even larger than his. It was not only her dressing room but her study. There was a desk surrounded by floor to ceiling bookcases. A desktop computer and a scattering of correspondence indicated that this was where she did her paperwork.
On a round mahogany table, two silver warming domes were keeping their breakfast warm. They sat down to eat.
John’s thoughts raced back to a night when was twelve years old. Late at night, he and his gang lingered in the shadows behind the local McDonald’s waiting for it to close. They knew at closing time the restaurant dumped its unsold hamburgers in the dumpster. The back door to the restaurant opened and a tray of hamburgers disappeared into the dumpster. Moments later the hamburgers were being devoured by the hungry children. To them, it was a feast fit for a king. They could not imagine that they would ever experience greater culinary joy.
After his breakfast, John kissed Naomi goodbye and hurried to his Range Rover. It was important that he set an example for his employees. He felt guilty unless he was the first one at the golf course each morning. To compound his guilt, Naomi had made him promise that he would join her for lunch on her cruiser.
Her cruiser's slip was at a yacht club a few miles south of Benji Beach. It took less than ten minutes to drive there from the golf club. There was a security presence at the marina. Since Naomi had registered his name with them, as soon as he identified himself, the gate rolled open.
John found a spot, in the large parking lot behind the club house. He made his way to the walkway that led to the marina’s network of floating docks. It was like a small city, thousands of feet of inter-connected docks spread from the one main dock over acres of water. He did not count them but he was sure it sheltered hundreds of boats.
He saw Naomi, a hundred feet away on the main dock way, hurrying towards him. She was wearing a red bikini that caught more than John's eye. When she waved, he waved back and walked towards her. When they met, she embraced him, kissed him and grabbed his hand.
Naomi led him through the labyrinth of floating docks to her boat. He hadn’t known what to expect. The cruiser, like her house, was big and impressive. John calculated that the vessel to be at least sixty feet long. He had read somewhere that when a vessel was over fifty feet it got classified as a yacht.
As they boarded, Naomi asked him, “Have you spent much time on boats?
“Small boats, yes, but I have zero experience with boats this size.”
“Well, before I finish with you, you will be an expert sailor. You are my crew. I’m going up to the bridge. I need you to undo these lines when I yell.” She pointed to the lines, “You’ll start with the bow line and then the stern line.” She then added, “The bow is the front. The stern is the back.”
Naomi climbed aboard and made her way to the bridge. John heard the deep throaty rumble of a diesel engine. She yelled at him to undo the bow line. She powered the boat snug against the dock bumpers as John moved to the stern line. He released that line and then leaped from the dock onto the boat.
Skillfully, Naomi backed the boat into the channel. She then shifted the boat into a forward gear guided it out of the marina, careful not to raise a wake. Once she reached the river, she opened the throttle more but was still careful about her wake. In ten minutes, they had exited the river and were moving away from the coastline at full throttle. Her blond hair streamed out behind her.
Below deck, John changed into his bathing suit and then climbed up to the bridge, to join Naomi. She flashed him a big smile. This was something she enjoyed. The boat was shooting a rooster tail of spray into the air as it planed over the waves. John smiled back at her and said, “When you asked me if I wanted to go for a boat ride, I had not expected the boat to be quite this large. How many bedrooms does this boat have?”
“There are four state rooms with double beds and the two benches in the dining area make up into single beds. I haven't been in some of those state rooms this year?”
“Who taught you how to handle a big boat like this.”
“My father, in his youth, much to my grandfather’s horror, did his two-year conscription in the Coast Guard. He has always loved boats. Thanks to him, I've been around big boats all my life.”
“Where are, we heading?”
“There's a deserted cove, up the bay where I love to anchor. It is remote and quiet. Nobody bothers you there. Romantic, is how I would describe it.”
When they reached the deserted cove, Naomi cut the engine. John listened to the anchor chain rattling out. When it stopped, the sudden silence, for a few seconds, was oppressive. Soon their ears adjusted to the subtle lapping of the gentle waves caressing the hull.
They almost believed they were the only two people left in the world. John took Naomi into his arms and kissed her. She led him below to the largest stateroom. In seconds, they had shed their clothes and lost themselves in the joy of each other’s bodies.
Later, naked, they jumped hand in hand into the ocean. After their swim, they climb back on the boat to lie on the deck and soak up the warm sunshine. Hungry, Naomi got up and put together a simple meal of salad, cold cuts, and fresh croissants that she had bought on her way to the boat.
They revealed their dreams and aspirations. Naomi told stories of growing up in the affluent Baltimore ghetto of the rich and privileged. John side stepped all Naomi’s subtle probing on his childhood. As the sun fell, and the shadows lengthened, Naomi started the engine and the boat made its way back to the marina at half throttle.
Over the next six months, John budgeted as much time with Naomi, as he could take away from running the golf course. Naomi fit herself into his schedule. She had decided that she wanted to marry this unusual man. Subtly, she told him what she wanted.
Not being able to draw upon the experience of growing up in a real family, with functioning parents, John had never considered marriage as something that would ever be part of his life. Naomi had changed that.
He recognized that he now wished to spend every free moment he had with her. Sometimes, he stared at her, drinking in her presence as if it were a fine, exquisite wine. If his infatuation with her is love, then he accepted that he must then love her. If marriage is a natural progression of a relationship, then he should marry her.
He was not blind to the fact that Naomi had much greater wealth and that he had. There was nothing materially that he could offer her that she either did not now have nor could afford to buy. All he saw that he could do for her was to take on the responsibility of growing her wealth. He felt confident that he could do it faster and safer than she could. She had told him she found investing to be a both boring and a burden. Unlike her, John loved the challenges of investing. It gave him pleasure to watch investments grow because of his analytical skills.
He finally justified marrying Naomi, by concluding that not only would he relieve her of the burden of investing but with access to her wealth, he could save far more street children, from a short life, than if he did not marry her. John proposed. Naomi accepted. This required that her fiancé now meet her parents.
John liked Howard Green. He found him to be a no nonsense, wealthy, capitalist, who was the son of a wealthy, no nonsense, capitalist. Howard assumed a life of privilege just like his daughter did. He didn’t think he was better than others. It had never occurred to him that anyone could be more entitled to such a privileged station in life than himself. He also had never questioned why there were poor, starving children in the world. He accepted that it was the natural order of things, just as monarchs had once believed in the divine right of kings.
Her father found real pleasure in the game of golf. When Naomi told him that she was marrying the new owner of the Benji Beach Golf Club, Howard was not pleased. He had expected her to marry a man of great wealth, someone like himself. Not someone involved in actually running a business enterprise.
Men like Howard earned their money, by choosing when to buy, sell and hold shares in companies that employed men, like John. It was the skills and hard work of men, like John, who generated the profits, captured the markets, and created the capital gains and dividends for the privileged, wealthy elite.
Naomi arranged for her father and John to meet for a round of golf early one Saturday morning. Their love of the game forged a quick bond between them. As they talked, Howard realized just how much hands-on experience he lacked and how much practical experience John had. It also impressed him that John had achieved what he had without family wealth. Not only had John survived but thrived in a world full of surprises and dangers. Howard gave the union his blessing. In John, he saw a strong man. A man who would protect and grow the family’s wealth for future generations.
Naomi’s mother just wanted to see her daughter married, while Naomi was still young enough to give her grandchildren. She smiled and greeted John but, after thirty-five years of marriage, she had no illusions about men. John was no better or worse than a dozen other men her daughter had dated. It pleased her that Naomi had committed herself to establishing a permanent relationship. If the marriage to this poor boy did not work, her daughter would just move on. The mother-of-the-bride began planning the wedding.
The wedding took place on a warm weekend in June, at the beach house, instead of in Baltimore. This had been Naomi’s choice. Hundreds of well-moneyed friends and relatives filled the hotel rooms in Benji Beach. The ceremony and the reception took place on the beach house’s deck. The wedding pictures had a backdrop of sparkling waves.
A local judge, to snag an invitation to the wedding, had begged Naomi’s father to officiate. He performed the ceremony with proper reverence. The wedding pictures took full advantage of the beach. An impressive orchestra played all the standard wedding songs. Some of Naomi’s relatives drank too much and embarrassed the family. Bored young cousins, playing tag, shrieked and darted in and out among those on the dance floor.
Matteo Dafina, the golf club’s food, and beverage manager agreed to be John’s best man. The other golf club managers were his ushers. When guests made whispered enquiries about John’s relatives not being present, the smug cognoscenti’s whispered reply was that John was a penniless orphan from the West Coast who was marrying Naomi for her money. They gave the marriage a year at most.
As the sun set and the party was still in full swing, the bride and groom left the reception. They drove to Washington to spend their first night, as a married couple, in a luxurious suite at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. The next afternoon, they flew first class to Los Cabos, Mexico. Naomi had insisted that they book a magnificent one-bedroom suite, on the beach, at the famous Palmilla Hotel.
From their private patio, they had a magnificent view of the Sea of Cortez. The suite's price stunned John. The honeymoon cost him as much as the pickup truck that he had just purchased for the golf club.
END