A Year in the Life of Peter Short

C. J. Martin

Description

If you enjoy movies like "Basic Instinct" and "Fatal Attraction", you'll like this novel filled with adventure and emotional twists and turns.
Peter Short is a Northwestern University graduate student in the mid-1960s. He is bright but not worldly when he meets the beautiful Sallie Barnes, a performer in the Ice Follies. Peter meets Sallie in a Chicago bar in the fall of 1965. He visits her in Buffalo over Thanksgiving, and she spends Christmas with Peter and his family. When he lands a summer job, Peter heads to San Francisco, where the Ice Follies prepare for the new roadshow to start in the fall.
Sallie exhibits subtle signs of emotional instability along the way. However, Peter’s untrained eye does not perceive the true nature of the driving forces behind her erratic behavior. At times they seem headed for a long-term relationship, but something always happens that blows their bond apart. Along the way, Peter has interesting encounters with a handful of other women and renews an old friendship with his roommate from undergraduate school who now lives in California. His up and down relationship with Sallie continues as he pursues her across the country. Peter grows up fast as his life becomes all about a woman—and a heap of worries.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Erotica
• Adventure
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 29 septembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665730105
• Langue: English

Extrait

A Year in the Life of Peter Short





C. J. MARTIN









Copyright © 2022 C. J. Martin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.




Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3009-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3010-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022916963



Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/24/2022



Contents
1 A Wink and a Nod
2 Fred Mode
3 Meanwhile, Back at the Store
4 The Follies and a Pizza
5 Will She or Won’t She?
6 Harry Loves Chicago
7 The Turkey’s in Buffalo
8 Her Kind of Town
9 Working Harry
10 Making a Bad Call
11 California, Here I Come
12 Phyl of Surprises
13 Meeting Mrs. Barnes
14 Spaghetti Sunday
15 Oh, What a Night
16 Oh, What a Morning
17 The Ride Home
18 Monterey Peters Out
19 Tahoe Plus
20 The Seersucker Suit
21 Goldberg, Kozac, and Kozac
22 Viva Las Vegas
23 The Talk
24 Route 66
25 Badger Me



1
A Wink and a Nod
It is ten o’clock in the evening on Tuesday, October 19, 1965. I am just finishing up my homework and planning to head down the hall to the TV lounge to catch the local Chicago news. My roommate, Gary, is sitting directly behind me at his desk. As I turn to get up from my chair, I notice that Gary is just staring at the wall. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve noticed that he seems to be in this trance-like state quite frequently. I’m beginning to wonder if he has a problem.
Gary and I are first-year grad students enrolled in Northwestern’s Masters in Business Administration (MBA) program. We were randomly paired together as roommates, and, fortunately for me, Gary is a good one. He is quiet, neat, clean, doesn’t snore, and is, simply put, a very nice person. However, he does seem to take life seriously—he’s a worrier.
First-year MBA students are required to live in Weibolt Hall on the Chicago campus, located at 700 North on Chicago’s famous Outer Drive along Lake Michigan. I am very impressed with my classmates—a bright group of young men and a few women from the top universities across the country. The professors are initiating us with a heavy workload—lots of reading and papers to write. Seems like everyone is hitting the books hard. I am putting in forty to fifty hours a week, which seems to be about the norm. Most of us study hard all week and take a break from Friday afternoon until Sunday night. Gary, on the other hand, is putting in about seventy hours a week and rarely leaves the room other than to attend classes and obtain sustenance. Despite Gary’s max effort, his grades are below average.
“Hey, Gary, you OK?”
He is startled from his trance but gathers his wits. “Oh yeah, I’m fine.”
I haven’t said anything to him about his “trances,” but it is time to broach the subject. “Gary, do you realize you were just staring at the wall? Are you practicing meditation or something?”
“No, I don’t realize it. Just seems to happen. I’m having trouble concentrating lately. My mind just wanders. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m in over my head here.”
“C’mon, man. You’re doing OK. Your grades are good enough.”
“Well, my grades are below average, and I know I am putting in a lot more hours than nearly everyone else.”
“Hey, we are only six weeks into the quarter. Hang in there. Things will probably get easier after a quarter or two. I think the profs are sticking it to us pretty good this first quarter.”
“Peter, I hope you’re right because I’m getting discouraged.”
“Maybe you ought to relax a little. You don’t have to be at the top of the class. You just need to absorb most of this stuff over the next two years and move on with your life. A Northwestern MBA will help get you a good job.”
Gary lowers his head. “I hope you’re right, but it’s becoming a real struggle.”
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we go get a couple of beers right now? In fact, the first round is on me. What do you say?”
“Thanks, Peter, but I just can’t. I’ve read this micro-economics chapter twice, and I still don’t get it.”
“Hey man, c’mon. Neither of us has a class until ten o’clock tomorrow. We can go have a couple of beers and be back here about eleven thirty, and still get eight hours of rack time. Maybe that chapter will make more sense in the morning.”
“Sorry, Peter, I just can’t.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I walk toward the door, having second thoughts about my initial plan to go watch the news. The pleasant thought of drinking a couple of beers has taken hold. God, I’d love a cold Bud right now. So, I say to myself, What the heck! I’ll go have a couple of beers and be back in bed before midnight . I grab my trusty burgundy windbreaker.
As I open the door, I look back and say, “Final offer. I’m headed to Rush Street. Sure would like some company.”
Gary has plopped his face down on his bed and just raises a hand to wave goodbye.
It is a crisp fall evening. The temperature is around fifty degrees with a chilly breeze blowing in off the lake. But it is invigorating as I stride off to the west toward Rush Street—Chicago’s top nightlife district and only a ten-minute walk from the dorm. As I near Rush, I need to select a watering hole as there are a half dozen good choices. My two favorites are the Store and Butch McGuire’s. Since the Store is on the way to Butch’s, I decide to stop there first and will probably move on to Butch’s for beer number two.
As I open the door and step inside, something is off—the place is dead. The Store has a large horseshoe-shaped bar that is always jammed with people, two and three deep. Tonight, there are only three women standing at the bar with their backs to me and three guys in suits chatting up another female at the far end of the bar. The small dance floor off to the left is totally empty, and there isn’t even any music playing. It dawns on me that this is Tuesday, and I have only been in here on Friday and Saturday nights. What a difference! My first thought is to just head up the street to Butch’s, thinking that his place might have a little more action. After a moment’s hesitation, I decide, What the heck? I’m ready for a beer. As a bonus, I’ll have the opportunity to sit on a barstool and get prompt service—both firsts . I walk around the bar to the far side and perch on a stool directly across from the three young ladies.
The barkeep puts down the Tribune sports section. “What can I getcha?”
“I’ll have a draft.”
He returns in ten seconds with a glass of that golden nectar. I take a long pull, and it is wonderful. Nothing better than that first swallow of beer.
I say, “Aren’t you Jeff?”
“Yeah, I recognize you too. You usually come in here on the weekends with three or four guys.”
“That’s right. Name’s Peter.”
“Where do you and your buddies work?”
“Actually, we’re students at Northwestern.”
“Isn’t that campus a few blocks east of here near the hospital?”
“Yeah, Jeff, you got it.”
“Are you guys medical students?”
“No, we are in the MBA program, but you’re right; there is medical school, as well as dental, nursing, and law schools on the campus. So, Jeff, where the hell is everybody?”
“Well, Tuesdays are the slowest night of the week. We get a decent after-work crowd, but they start to thin out about seven o’clock, and there ain’t many left by eight. The business guys with the lady down at the end of the bar have been drinking since about eight o’clock. I think they are in town for a convention. They are all very deferential to the short bald guy. He must be the boss. Now, the three chicks arrived just fifteen minutes ago. Don’t know what their deal is, but they ain’t hard on the eyes, especially the blonde.”
I sneak a peek at the threesome as Jeff heads off toward the conventioneers to see if they are up for another round. Indeed, the girls are all lookers, and the tall blonde is outstanding. She has a lot of hair, and it looks like it took a half a can of hair spray to hold it in place. Her face is extraordinarily beautiful with unblemished milky-white skin. She even has a beauty mark near the left corner of her mouth. The two shorter ones have to be sisters. They are cute, with identically styled short brown hair. All three are wearing a lot of makeup, but it looks professionally applied.
I try not to stare, but they are right across the bar. As I raise my glass for another swallow, the blonde makes eye contact and winks at me. I am caught completely off guard and immediately look down at my half-empty glass as if it suddenly requires my undivided attention. My first thought is that maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe she just blinked. Then I think, Damn, she winked at me. I glance back in her direction. She is still looking right at me with a friendly smile. She does a little backward nod with her head, as if t