A Charmed Life
Chapter 16: Friends

Copyright© 2016 by The Outsider

22 December 1988 – East Street, Greenwich, Massachusetts

Jeff walked up to a Colonial farmhouse in Greenwich the following week. He shifted the items he carried in his hands, took a deep breath, and used the brass knocker on the front door to announce his presence. He heard footsteps approaching the door after a few moments of silence.

The door opened to reveal an attractive and familiar-looking older woman. Jeff realized this must be Mrs. Cavanaugh, Colonel Donnelly’s mother. Despite the scowl on her face, it was easy to see where both younger women got their looks.

“You must be Mr. Knox, the wayward, young paratrooper my daughter and granddaughter have been yammering about,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said with a clear tone of disapproval.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Not very impressive, for a paratrooper to need to have women come to your rescue.”

“Well, I’ve heard many women find vulnerability in men attractive, Ma’am. Therefore, one must allow one’s self to be rescued by the damsels rather than the other way around once in a while mustn’t one, Mrs. Cavanaugh?”

Alice Cavanaugh couldn’t maintain the façade any longer, nor could she help but laugh at the response. This young man didn’t take himself too seriously. She could tell by the good clothes he wore that he did take meeting her family seriously.

“I can see we’re going to get along just fine, Jeff,” Alice Cavanaugh laughed as she stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Please, come in!”

Jeff stepped into the entryway after wiping his feet on the provided mat.

“This is for you, Mrs. Cavanaugh,” Jeff said, holding out the poinsettia he had been carrying.

“Thank you, Jeff!” Alice said. “Please, call me ‘Alice.’”

This young man has been doing his homework,’ she thought. ‘Heather must have told him I liked poinsettias, and I’ll just bet that bag he’s holding has a bottle of scotch for Tom.’ She turned to place the plant on a side table before taking Jeff’s coat.

“You go on into Tom’s den, there,” Alice indicated a door on the other side of the family room. “I suppose he wants to talk to you before dinner.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered.

Jeff had expected Heather’s grandfather would want to talk to him, but he wasn’t sure he was looking forward to it. He knew Heather told her grandparents all about him, but she hadn’t told him much about them in return. He tried not to walk like a condemned man as he made his way into Mr. Cavanaugh’s den. He wasn’t sure he was all that successful.

Stepping into Tom Cavanaugh’s den felt like stepping into his company commander’s office. There were twice as many items on the ‘I LOVE ME!’ walls, though. Behind the oak desk stood an American flag, a U.S. Army flag, and a dark blue Army regimental flag. Moving as close as he dared, Jeff read ‘504th Infantry Regiment’ on the regimental flag’s scroll.

“Holy shit...” Jeff muttered.

Looking around, Jeff learned Tom Cavanaugh was once Colonel Thomas Cavanaugh. He’d been the final full regimental commander of the 504th Parachute Infantry. A quick tour around the rest of the room told him more about Tom Cavanaugh’s career: he started as an enlisted man, received a battlefield commission, had been awarded the Combat Infantryman’s Badge (three times – World War II, Korea, Vietnam), received a Silver Star, two Bronze Stars for valor, made a combat jump, and was wounded three times.

“All that crap just means I got lucky, son,” came a quiet voice from behind him. Jeff spun around and snapped to attention.

“AIRBORNE ALL THE WAY, SIR!” he barked to the older man in his best parade ground voice.

Tom Cavanaugh couldn’t help but smile at the young man standing before him. Heather was quite taken with him. Jane seemed to be keen on this kid, too. Alice gave him ‘The Look’ when he told her he would be talking to their guest. He decided he should take a softer approach with this visitor than the boys Jane and Heather dated when they were younger.

“All the way, son,” Tom answered, walking over with his hand out. Jeff shook hands and returned to the position of attention. “Relax, son, relax. Come, have a seat.” Tom noticed the brown paper bag in his hand as Jeff settled into his chair. “What do you have there?” Tom asked.

“I brought this for you, Sir.” Jeff held the bag out to Tom. Tom’s eyebrows rose when he saw what it held.

“Jameson Black Barrel? Son, this is too much.”

“Just a token, Sir. Your granddaughter already means a lot to me, Sir, regardless of where our relationship may or may not go. I want to assure you that I am not looking for a quick score with Heather.”

Tom looked at the young man he just met. He was a good judge of character; his sense of Jeff was that he was being honest with him. Alice had already made her decision about the boy, as had Jane. Jeff wouldn’t even be in the house if either of them felt otherwise.

“I believe you, Jeff. What’s your sense of where this relationship is headed?”

“I’ve only talked to your granddaughter for a few hours, but I feel that I’ve grown very close to her. She’s an amazing young woman: smart as a whip, has a great sense of humor, and is absolutely beautiful. We only have ten days before both her semester break and my leave end. Our future goals don’t exactly line up at this point, but I’m hoping we both can relax and at least develop a lasting friendship in that time.”

Tom nodded as he listened to Jeff. ‘This kid gets it,’ Tom thought. ‘He’s well-spoken and has been taught good manners. Too bad he’s probably right about them being together long-term. I hope he sticks around, though, I like him already.’

“Boys! Dinner!” came the call from the other room.

“Come on, Jeff,” Tom said, rising from his seat. “Let’s not keep Alice waiting. She won’t let us have dessert if we’re late to the table.”


Jeff was a regular visitor to the Cavanaugh household over the next week and a half. Heather made similar visits to his house, where his family welcomed her in return. He spent the majority of his second week on leave in Greenwich getting to know her family. It neared the time when Heather would return to Amherst, and Jeff would head back to Fort Bragg.

He and Heather checked out a new ‘brew pub’ in Amherst center on December 30th. It wasn’t crowded when they got there; it was still early enough in the evening that the crowds hadn’t turned out yet. Tomorrow night, however, on New Year’s Eve, the place would be an absolute madhouse. The food was very good, and the pub’s beers were great, but the knucklehead behind him kept bumping into him. Jeff tried to ignore him.

“How’s the calamari?” Heather asked.

“Excellent. Your sliders?”

“The same.” Heather watched the man behind Jeff lean back in his chair, bump Jeff, and not say anything. Again.

Heather looked over at him.“Really?” her look asked. Jeff closed his eyes and shook his head. He was picking up his beer to take a sip when he overheard the jerk’s conversation.

“Oh, I played that naïve little bitch but good. She thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Jeff’s beer paused halfway to his mouth while the man’s friend asked something he couldn’t make out.

“I’ve been doing her for the past two months. I got what I wanted from her, alright. I dumped her ass today.” Another question. “Yeah, the little blonde bimbo from MIT. Her name? Alice? No, Allison. Allison Newbury, that was it. Yeah, from New Salem.”

Jeff saw red. Allison was one of his best friends. This asshole had used her and then dumped her without a second thought. Jeff slammed his beer down; it sloshed over the edge of the glass. He stood up so fast his chair shot backward, away from him. He wheeled around. The jerk was in mid-lean when Jeff’s hand grabbed the front of his shirt. He shoved the jerk back hard. The man’s eyes bulged as he lost his balance and Jeff slammed him into the floor. The man’s eyes also bulged because Jeff twisted his collar so tight it cut off his air supply. Only Jeff’s grip on his shirt kept the jerk’s head from bouncing off the floor.

Jeff knelt and put his nose in the jerk’s face.

“Wrong place, wrong time, asshole,” he growled. “Allison Newbury is one of my best friends.” Jeff saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Sit your asses back down!” he barked to the jerk’s friends. “Karma’s paying your friend here a little visit. You want some? There’ll be plenty to go around after I snap his neck.” He turned his attention back to the jerk. His face was turning blue from the restricted airflow.

“That ‘blonde bimbo’ has more brains in her pinky than you have in your whole body. She earned her way into MIT. She worked her butt off to get there and earn her scholarship. Did Daddy buy your way into Harvard? Be advised, dipshit, that if you ever come near her again, I will put my foot so far up your ass you’ll be able to smell my boot polish. I will then cut your dick off and make you choke on it. Then I’ll get angry.”

“When you’re the assistant night manager at some Quicky Mart somewhere, and you’re begging the armed robber not to shoot you in your pathetic, shit-filled head, that girl will literally be figuring out the secrets of the universe. Fat lot of good your Harvard ‘education’ will do you then. You’re not smart enough to learn anything.”

Jeff slapped the man on the side of his head. A wet stain spread across the front of the man’s pants. A different, fouler odor made its presence known as well. He let go of the man’s collar and stood. The manager and bartender of the pub stood next to a startled Heather.

“I apologize for the disturbance, gentlemen. I’ll put some money on the table and we’ll leave.”

“It’s fine, just go,” the manager replied.

“I’m paying for our drinks, our food, and making sure Sandra gets the tip she deserves,” Jeff insisted before he dropped fifty dollars on the table. “Everything was excellent. Again, I apologize to you, your staff, and your patrons.” Jeff looked down at the jerk still quivering on the floor. “Well, most of your patrons. Heather?”

The pub was silent while they left. Heather said nothing during the walk back to his truck. Jeff unlocked the passenger’s door before holding open it for her. She hesitated.

“Heather, if you’re uncomfortable being with me now, I’ll pay for a cab to take you back to Greenwich.”

She ignored his offer of a cab. “What happened back there?” she asked.

“That jerk was bragging about a conquest of his at college. That ‘conquest’ is one of my best friends from Thompkins. I’ve known her since her family moved here in 1985, and we dated during our senior year. I’m sorry, Heather, but I need to go check on her tonight.”

“Where does she live?”

“New Salem.”

“May I come with you?” Jeff looked a question at her. “What? I was startled, that’s all.”


It was just after seven in the evening when Jeff and Heather pulled into the Newburys’ driveway. He escorted Heather to the door and knocked. Don Newbury answered.

“Hi, Jeff,” the man said in a tired voice.

“Don, we just heard what happened and came to see Allison.”

 
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