Authors: T. E. Cruise
Campbell laughed. “That’s my boy!”
(One)
Gold Estate
Bel-Air, California
7 April, 1974
It was a Sunday morning. Erica Gold was sitting in the quiet of her bedroom, remembering her wedding day.
The mirrored vanity reflected Erica’s surroundings. There was the large, circular bed she had shared with her husband, Herman,
who’d been gone these past two and a half years. The French doors leading out to the balcony were framed in draperies of embroidered,
emerald satin, and the bedroom’s scrolled, gilt-bronze furniture reposed on lion’s paws upon the plush, ivy-green carpeting.
Erica Gold saw all these fine trappings, but when she looked at her own reflection she did not see a slim, white-haired woman
of seventy-two, elegantly attired in a gray silk suit. Instead, she saw a twenty-year-old bride, a long-legged, coltish girl
with blonde hair plaited into thick braids, brown eyes set far apart, and a slightly crooked nose.
She’d broken her nose when she was very little; a tomboy, as her mother used to scold. One day her brothers had dared her
to leap across the stream behind the farmhouse, and she’d done it. leaping farther than any of them, until she’d slipped on
a slick stone and ended up walking back to the house with her brother Arnold’s blue neckerchief pressed against her face….
Such memories!
Erica absently fingered the plain gold wedding band on her left hand. She had boxes and boxes of jewlery here at the house
and in various safe-deposit vaults. She had elaborate gold and silver ornaments; diamonds, rubies, emeralds: over the years
Herman had graced her with some of all the world’s glittering, precious things…. She wore none of it anymore. She couldn’t
be bothered. She’d worn it all in the first place because it had made Herman happy. Now there was just her wedding band.
Anyway, memories were life’s true jewels, and she had so many splendid ones from which to choose….
She was born Erica Schuler, in rural Nebraska, the only girl among five boys in a German immigrant farm family. Erica’s father
early on became a wealthy man and showered her with the best of everything. But all the expensive diversions couldn’t distract
her from the infuriating awareness that women were supposed to stand by and watch while menfolk did the important things.
What Erica wanted was to remain forever a tomboy, to soar on her abilities. But she knew that meant that she would first have
to find a man, a soul mate, who was self-confident enough to allow her free rein….
It was July 1921. Summer in Nebraska, and the sky was a faded blue above the amber and green vastness of the plain. Erica
was nineteen, and becoming resigned to being just like all the other girls she knew, when a barnstorming troupe rolled into
town and a tall, lanky, twenty-two-year-old pilot named Herman Gold came into her life, changing everything. When Erica’s
father found out that Herman Gold was also a German immigrant, her father invited the boy to supper. The next day, to repay
the kindness, Herman took Erica for a ride in his rickety old Curtiss JN-4D “Jenny” biplane. Together she and Herman banked
and pinwheeled across the sky, until Erica, laughing and crying. felt like she’d flown with the angels. After they landed,
she told Herman as much, and he shyly murmured that
she
was the angel. And she kissed him….
Thinking back on it now, Erica wasn’t sure which she had fallen in love with first: that noisy, old biplane, or the man who
flew it. It was funny how shy Herman had been with her, considering his reckless bravery in the sky, but gradually during
their courtship he confessed to her his dream of starting his own aviation company, of becoming an emperor of the air….
And he did it, with my help.
Erica now thought proudly.
From outside her bedroom windows overlooking the pool, came the sounds of the family and friends gathering for today’s grand
occasion. The Gold estate was hidden behind stone walls and wrought-iron gates in Bel-Air. The house was a rambling English
Colonial with a vine-covered, gray stone exterior, black iron casement windows, and a green copper mansard roof. Behind the
house was a four-car garage, broad expanses of rolling lawn, a tennis court, the pool, and the stables where the family had
kept Shetland ponies when the children were young. A full-time caretaker lived above the garage and kept everything running
smoothly. Live-in servants tended to the house itself.
Erica and Herman had lived here with their two children, Susan and Steven, since 1928. They’d enjoyed decades of happiness
within this house….
A knock at the bedroom door startled Erica.
“Mother, it’s Susan. Are you all right?”
“Yes, darling.” Erica, looking in the mirror, saw that her eyes were wet, and daubed them with a tissue from the vanity. “Come
in, Susan.”
Susan Harrison came into the bedroom carrying an orchid corsage like the one she was wearing. Erica’s firstborn was a brown-eyed
blonde of forty-seven, wearing a green silk party dress with puffy sleeves that showed off her wide, tanned shoulders. Erica
thought her daughter looked smashing, but then, Susan had always been a big, athletic girl, with her mother’s coloring and
her father’s sturdy build.
“Mother, everyone’s arrived,” Susan said. “They’re waiting for you.” She studied Erica. “Have you been crying?”
Erica shook her head, smiling. “No, just thinking.” She got up from the vanity, slipping her stockinged feet into a pair of
black pumps as Susan came over to fasten the corsage to her lapel.
“There,” Susan said, giving Erica a peek on the cheek. “It looks lovely on you.”
“Thank you, dear. Shall we go downstairs?”
They left the bedroom, walking arm-in-arm along the third-floor hallway, and then downstairs via the central, curved marble
staircase. Susan was quiet until they reached the first floor, and then she asked, “Were you thinking about Daddy?”
Erica nodded, giving Susan’s hand an affectionate squeeze.
“I wish Daddy could have been here today.” Susan sighed as they moved through the big, quiet house with its high, gilded ceilings
and mahogany paneling. “I’m sure he would have thought Linda Forrester was just wonderful. How happy he would have been to
see Steve getting married at last.”
They went out through the solarium’s French doors to the terraced, flagstone patio. The patio was landscaped with shrubbery
and redwood flower boxes and overlooked the Olympic-size swimming pool. Erica, who’d been preoccupied with planning the wedding,
now carefully surveyed the scene. As she’d decreed, the patio was an extravaganza of floral arrangements, and the caterer
had set out the cold buffet in the patio’s screened dining area near the bar, where the four-piece chamber-music ensemble
was playing softly.
Only the immediate family and a few close friends had been invited to the wedding, and now those guests were having drinks,
chatting in clusters. Erica saw her son-in-law, Don Harrison, the best man, standing with Steve, who was looking exceedingly
nervous. Both men were wearing business suits with boutonnieres pinned to their lapels. Erica had lobbied for more formal
attire, but Linda Forrester, who would be married wearing a turquoise suit with a small beaded veil pinned to her hair, had
wanted things kept simple.
Erica supposed she understood. This was Linda’s second marriage, after all, and neither she nor Steve was exactly a kid anymore….
Erica smiled at Andrew Harrison, who was chatting with friends of the family near the pool. Andy was Susan’s youngest son
by her second husband, Don. He was a handsome, blond-haired, brown-eyed young man who was presently wearing a suit and tie,
but yesterday Erica’s grandson had come to visit her wearing his cadet’s uniform. Andy was in for the wedding from the Air
Force Academy in Colorado Springs, where he was in his second year. The only member of the immediate family not here was Robert
Greene, Erica’s first grandchild and Susan’s oldest son by her first husband. Robbie, an Air Force captain, had sent his regrets.
He was currently somewhere far away, involved in some sort of fighter-pilot exchange program between the Armed Services.
Linda Forrester was an only child, and both her parents had passed away, so she had no family in attendance today beyond her
two children from her first marriage. Chad, thirteen, and Thomas, eleven, looking preppy in their double-breasted blue blazers
and chinos, were chasing each other around the pool. Erica smiled as she watched them, pleased at the prospect of acquiring
another set of young grandsons now that Robbie and Andrew were all grown up. Erica knew Steve adored Linda’s boys, and that
they adored him. Linda had joked that she wasn’t sure who held the greater attraction for Steve: herself or her sons. There
was nothing Steve liked better than to take the boys flying in one of the company’s private planes, or for a camping weekend.
“Everything looks lovely, Mother,” Susan complimented.
“I suppose,” Erica commented wryly. “For a ‘laid back’ kind of an affair, as Steven and Linda stipulated, that is.”
Beyond the patio, a striped awning had been erected on the lawn to afford shelter from the sun during the ceremony. Beneath
that awning, almost hidden by still more flowers, a justice of the peace now stood, prepared to conduct the ceremony. Erica
searched out her butler, caught his eye, and signaled with a subtle nod that things could begin. The butler relayed the message
to a number of young Air Force officers who had served under Steven in the military and had volunteered to honor their ex-superior
officer by acting as ushers. The young men in their slate-blue dress uniforms now began conducting the guests to their seats
beneath the awning. Once everyone was seated. Erica, escorted by her daughter, took their places in the front row of folding
chairs.
“Linda will be good for Steven.” Erica whispered to Susan. “She’s tough. She’ll know how to keep him in line.”
Susan giggled. “The way you kept Daddy in line?”
Erica shook her head. “Your father didn’t need me for that. He grew up in difficult times. Long before he met me, the circumstances
of his birth had tempered him. There was only one way for him to go, and that was up. But Steven was born into the lap of
luxury. As you were. As I was.” She paused, smiling wistfully, as the wedding march began. “I’ve come to realize it’s far
harder to maintain one’s balance at the pinnacle than it is to climb there in the first place.”
(Two)
During the reception after the ceremony, Steven Gold asked his bride, “So how does it feel to be married, Mrs. Gold?”
“That’s Forrester-Gold to you, chum,” Linda remarked.
Gold winced. “That sounds like a brand of rum.”
Linda thought about it. “Maybe I’ll just stick with Forrester….”
They were at the bar, sipping mimosas, ogling their shiny new wedding bands. Gold was feeling relieved it was over. He hated
ceremony of any kind, and was grateful that Linda had kept everything as low-key as possible, given the fact his mother was
involved in the planning.
“My mother looked happy, don’t you think?” Gold asked.
Linda nodded. “I’m glad. I’ve come to really like Erica.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, when I began getting to know her, I didn’t know what to expect. Here she was, the white-haired, Bel-Air matriarch locked
up in this castle….” Linda shrugged. “But as I got to know her, I realized how together she is. She really knows what’s going
on.”
“She always has.” Gold agreed. “She was an aviatrix back in the twenties, you know.”
“Come on.” Linda looked skeptical. “Your mom, a
flier?
“
“Yep. You should get her to tell you about it sometime. It might make a good book. She took flying lessons with Amelia Earhart,
and then got involved in air racing. She has a whole collection of trophies and plaques she won. Pop used to keep them in
his office to show off to people, but now they must be somewhere around the house. She was pretty famous in her day, featured
in newsreels and on magazine covers. Back when Pop and Tim Campbell were still partners, they convinced her to represent the
company in an advertising campaign—”
“Holy shit!” Linda interrupted, laughing. “You mean
Erica
was the ‘GAT girl’?”
Steve nodded proudly. “I couldn’t have been more than five or six at the time, but I still remember that poster showing the
airplanes flying above the Gold Aviation hangar, and my mom in her flying suit, with a big smile on her face, and all those
blond ringlets sticking out from underneath her leather flying helmet.”
Linda said: “That was one of the most successful early campaigns in advertising history.”
“I remember Pop telling me once that Gold Transport’s passenger volume soared whenever my mom was featured in an ad.” Gold
paused as his nephew Andrew came over to them.
“Congratulations, Uncle Steve, ma’am,” Andy said, shaking hands with them both.
Linda said, “Thanks, Andy, but please call me Linda.” She winked. “Take it from me, no woman, married or single, wants to
be called ‘ma’am.’”
“Suppose not,” Andy murmured.
“Not that you’re going to have any trouble with women. Andy,” Linda continued. “Not with those looks.”
Andy was blushing. Smiling shyly.
“Now that I think about it, you’re the spitting image of your uncle Steve, about twenty years ago.…” Linda paused. “You wouldn’t
know it to look at old baldie today, but back then he had thick blond hair just like yours.”
Gold rolled his eyes, complaining to Andy: “Women: You can’t live with ’em, and you can’t strafe ’em.”
Linda asked, “Did you enjoy the ceremony?”
“Sure,” Andy replied.
“Have enough champagne?” Gold coaxed.
“I don’t drink. Uncle Steve.”
“Oh. yeah… I forgot.” Gold hesitated, feeling awkward, feeling sad. He used to know just what to say to make his nephew smile.
“Well! How’s the Academy treating you?”
“Things are great there, Uncle Steve,” Andy said politely. “I’ve been doing a lot of flying.”