I had no direct involvement with Paul's business activities but I learned enough from my conversations with him to be proud of what he was accomplishing. His small stable of new and expanding businesses continued to prosper, with only a rare minor setback. One small shipping company staggered slightly but quickly became the object of the firm's focus. Like the biblical lost sheep, everyone concentrated on this wayward target until it was back on its feet.
Therefore, when Thatcher Wright telephoned, he caught me by surprise when he said he wanted to talk to me, not my husband.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"No, no," he answered. "Just the opposite." He went on to relate that my husband was the winner of a prestigious recognition from a national trade association. "I'm telling you," Thatcher said, "because Paul is so humble I doubt he'll mention it. I thought you ought to know and perhaps consider attending the presentation."
The award would be given at a banquet in New York, a city I'd not visited since childhood. Thatcher suggested booking a room in the city for Paul and me for four days. While I didn't want to impose on Paul's humility, the idea of four glorious days alone with my husband thrilled me. I agreed to broach the subject with my husband.
It wasn't that we lacked the opportunity to make love at home. Our house was old and well-built enough to afford us privacy and our bedroom door had a lock. Granted, we often forgot to lock it but Timmy slept like a rock and Karen was wise enough to knock or not enter in the dark of night. But there were limitations.
An example. One summer morning she burst in, anxious for us to get going on a day trip to New Hampshire. She tugged at both of us to get our lazy bodies out of bed, refusing to leave until our feet were on the floor.
"Give us some privacy," I yawned.
"No! You'll go back to sleep! It's already seven."
"Privacy," Paul muttered.
"You don't need privacy," she persisted. "You've got you pajamas on."
"Not the bottoms," I muttered.
"God, you people," she grumbled as she fled the room, slamming the door behind her.
Ergo, my excitement about a four-day getaway; the chance to dance naked around a hotel suite, absent nosy kids, alone with my husband for the first time since our honeymoon! It would take planning because of the short notice but it would be worth it.
I was jittery with anticipation. I hoped my request wasn't imposing on Paul's business life. I wasn't sure what his reaction would be. I said nothing during dinner. Karen sensed I was nervous. She could read me like a book, but didn't comment.