New York_ The Novel - Edward Rutherfurd [440]
And how did this kid come to be at his son’s fancy private school? With a scholarship, of course. Maybe twenty percent of the kids there were on scholarships.
If there was one thing New York private schools were good at, it was raising money. He’d no sooner paid the hefty tuition fees for Gorham, Jr.’s, first trimester in kindergarten when the parents’ committee had hit him for a donation as well. They didn’t waste any time. And before they even graduated, the kids in twelfth grade organized themselves to start donating as alumni. Just to get everybody into the habit. And the scale of giving was astounding. The parents’ committees raised several million in donations every year; the accounts were so impressive they were scary.
But if the system was scary, it meant that those scholarship kids from poor homes got the best education available in America, and the rich parents were happy to pay for them. That was the American way. Of course, it didn’t do any harm to the school’s academic results, either.
Gorham, Jr., had plenty of friends, but Lee was the closest to him. Both kids were nice, both ambitious, both striving for excellence. He was proud of the friend his son had chosen.
They got to the game with time to spare.
Yankee Stadium, the Bronx. The House that Ruth Built, scene of Babe Ruth’s greatest triumphs. The huge stadium was packed, the crowd expectant. The Yankees, the biggest sports franchise in America, were going for their fourth consecutive World Series in a row. That would also be a fifth in six years.
He had great seats—field level, on the third-base side. The boys were thrilled. And today, the Yankees were playing the Red Sox.
The Boston Red Sox. The ancient rivalry, so full of passion—and heartbreak, if you were a Red Sox fan.
At 1:15 the game began. And for the next three and a quarter hours, Gorham Vandyck Master enjoyed one of the happiest afternoons of his life. The game was wonderful. The crowd roared. He said to hell with dinner and his cholesterol, and ate three hot dogs. The boys assuredly ate more, but he didn’t count.
What a game! The Yankees made seven runs in the sixth inning, and Tino Martinez hit two home runs, to defeat the Red Sox 9 to 2.
“Well, boys,” he said, “that was a game to remember for the rest of our lives.”
When they got back to the apartment, they found a scene of activity. The caterers had already arrived.
“You boys,” said Maggie firmly, “get cleaned up and out of the way.” And it was clear to Gorham that this referred to him as well.
Lee was sleeping over, because he and Gorham, Jr., were going to Greg Cohen’s bar mitzvah. This would be the bar mitzvah year, and it was normal for the Jewish boys and girls having a bar or bat mitzvah to invite most of their class. Sometimes one went to the religious service as well, especially if it was a close friend, but Gorham, Jr., usually just went to the party later. And that was what the two boys were doing that evening.
Gorham went straight to the master bedroom, showered and changed into a suit for dinner. He was going to take the boys to the bar mitzvah, spend a few minutes there to say congratulations to the Cohens, and get back to the apartment before the guests arrived. It was a little tight, but he reckoned he could do it.
By 6:15, he was ready, and Maggie came into the bedroom to get ready herself. But he still had one important duty to perform before taking the boys. He went into the kitchen.
“Hi, Katie.” He smiled with pleasure, and went to give the caterer a kiss.
Katie Keller Katerers. She’d asked them what they thought of the name when she started up two years ago. He and Maggie had both told her to go with it.
Gorham hadn’t really known the Kellers until after his father’s death. Charlie had still had the Theodore Keller photograph collection and, following his instructions, Gorham had gone to see the family to find out what they’d like him to do with it. It hadn’t taken long for them to agree to find a dealer, who had quietly promoted and sold the collection