In Which Box?

Chapter 1

Sure, you might miss coworkers and associates you’ve spent so much time with, but the transition to retirement can be moderated by continued invitations to office functions, holiday gatherings, and personal achievement celebrations—not to mention phone call updates. Retirement is much more than a personal decision. It’s a life-changing event providing the joy and freedom to parlay plans into actions. More time with family and friends becomes a premium privilege requiring only your approval. On the other hand, retirement can also be a life-changing event that wrecks long-term relationships, crushes self-esteem, and wastes learned and practiced skills. It is not possible to predict with high accuracy where along the retirement continuum any individual will land. You just don’t know until you’re there.

Michael turned out to be a member of the former group. He cherished his work as a DSS special agent and retired about eighteen months ago only because he felt he should. He despised those who hung on till the bitter end just because they could. Most public and private plans combine some measure of age and service time to determine retirement eligibility. Michael met the minimums and decided to spend more time at home with family instead of bouncing around the world supporting embassy staffs. A fellow agent using the moniker Lefty, when learning of Michael’s retirement considerations, offered his thoughts. If you haven’t been thinking about where your life is going, before you know it, you’re sixty or so years old and the only chips you have left are ones others hope you’ll be leaving them in your will. Hell, I’d do it if I could. Michael was an RSO or regional security officer for the US Diplomatic Security Service, whose mission was to conduct international investigations, threat analysis, cyber security, counterterrorism, security technology, and protection of people, property, and information around the world. He maintained a top-secret sensitive compartmentalized information security clearance and specialized in counterintelligence and counterterrorism work. Anytime there is a threat or an attack against embassies or US consulates, DSS special agents are the first on the scene to investigate. Michael had called places like Pakistan, Yemen, Israel, Brazil, Iran, Iraq, Japan, Somalia, and many others home for long enough.

Retirement was a condition he looked forward to experiencing fully. He’d embarked on a plan of sorts but was still seeking just the right balance between happiness and self-satisfaction. He told his kids that happiness is best described as when what you think, what you say, and what you do are all in complete harmony. He had the think and do parts of his description on autopilot. Two out of three is not bad, but retirement would surely grant him a new freedom, he thought—the ability to say what he really thought. He knew there was now no boss to chide him over politically incorrect observations or insensitive social comments.

Michael looked forward to the future and told his wife that happy families are usually alike. They agree on essential items like sexual attraction, money matters, child discipline, and in-laws, whereas unhappy families are always unhappy in their own unique way.

Happiness should not await retirement’s arrival, but Michael thought the renewed energies he was feeling deserved immediate attention. That sweet spot balancing happiness and self-satisfaction that eluded so many was just a few adjustments away, he was sure. He was focused on finding it.

Chapter 2

I think of her as Sue, Michael admitted to himself. Her first name was more likely Sooleng or something similar, but for him, Sue would do. Yes, she was of Asian descent; she had the slim body, tiny waist, spring in her step, and facial features to prove it. She was warm, and he was charmed by an abundance of imagined intimate possibilities. The allure of an attractive woman dressed in full fashion every day was appealing. Sue expressed a unique charm, not born of clear animal magnetism but rather subtle desire and tempting tease. The kind a beautiful, mature, experienced woman conveys without a single utterance. She was the rare woman whose attractiveness didn’t invite a free pass at life’s daily challenges.

Michael observed Sue kept a daily routine uncomforted by any outside interruption. He bet she did her share and more, was self-sufficient, and expected no favors.

As are most Asian women, Sue was of medium height. She wore a tight but perfect thin smile. Her office attire included a snug, black, just-above-the-knee fitted skirt and a short-sleeved white blouse. Again today she was wearing black high heels matching the color of her straight shoulder-length hair. She wore no rings, no necklace, no ankle bracelet, and no hairpin. Sue carried a mannequin-perfect body, and her garments were full featured in just the right places. Her glove-tight, heart-shaped posterior left little to imagine. She crossed her legs gently while easing into a comfortable sitting position not far from Michael. She had a perfect pearly complexion, promoting the matching shades of her lipstick and fingernail polish. This soft red color helped highlight six diamonds on her small oval-shaped earrings—the one adornment she was never without.

Sue’s dark eyes were soft and inviting, yet strong enough to oppose casual prolonged observation. She guarded an innate intellect deserving special attention, perhaps even caution.

Michael trusted that they traded smiles, greetings, successes, and failures on a daily basis. He was normally at the office moments before Sue and eagerly awaited her arrival. Her scent was unmistakable and ravishing. He knew each morning not later than 6:15 his nostrils must prepare forgiveness for an earlier visit to the local coffee establishment, where he inhaled the daily house blend fragrance. It was a pleasurable habit he’d had for years. Monday through Friday, he preferred coffee black. Weekend selections expanded, but recently he’d narrowed choices to vanilla with soy, hazelnut, or Chai tea lattes.

It’s apparent not all women know this, but the perfume, lotion, or soap that captivates attention and disables objection so fully for one lacks true power and purpose for another. Perhaps it’s individual body chemistry or hormones dueling with DNA guardians and olfactory nerves serving natural desire. In any case, Sue’s heavenly aroma confirmed her alluring beauty. Michael was filled with eager anticipation as she arrived each morning.

Hello, Sue, Michael said.

Hi, Michael, Sooleng responded. How was your weekend? Did you see they’re cracking down on mortgage fraud and short-sale schemes? Civil and criminal charges are being filed here in San Diego. The World Cup finals are approaching—who’s your pick? I brought the Daily in case you need it.

Sue seldom asked one thing at a time. Michael used to try breathing between questions while preparing his reply, but soon learned his inhalation of oxygen, a necessary stimulant for thought and conversation, was but a pause providing additional opportunity for quiz and query. Eventually he chose silence over interruption as his best option. When done or distracted, Sue matched his quiet and he could deliver a response. It was not uncommon for Sue to answer her own questions, so he often just nodded and waited. He was delightedly proud of himself for this quickly learned strategy.

Sue sat nearby, sharing multiple flat-screen 17.5" trading termi-

nals. As general body motion, office air circulation, and strong wishes would allow, Michael’s nostrils could flare without detection, and the pure essence of desire and pleasure could waft a satisfying release of her daily wonders.

By the time Michael completed his third silent nod, the only unattended item was her comment about the Daily she’d brought. She was, of course, referring to the Investors Business Daily, a financial and business newspaper relied upon by many. It has always been a good read, but especially on weekends as they publish their Monday edition on Saturday.

Michael was not sure he would continue to come to the office every day were it not for Sue. Trading the financial markets can be a challenge at the best of times. It has to be in your blood to keep staring at computer screens watching stock prices and share volume trade tick by tick. Perhaps waiting for his entry or exit point was a game of chance Michael had become addicted to. And that’s why Sue’s presence had become so important to him. He was hoping there was a chance. It wouldn’t take much, just a glance, a whisper, even a touch, if possible.

Yes, Michael was married and could trade the markets from home, but that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun. He could find a spare spot in the den, set up his dual monitors, high-speed modem, and backup phone lines. Unchallenged, he could even arrange seating to allow frequent glances of MSNBC’s Erin Burnett to keep the daily trading toil tolerable.

Marilyn, mother of his two kids, Abbi and Putter, teaches special ed at the local Beach Isle High School here in San Diego. Were it not for the recognition of high water tables in local building codes, they probably would have a basement. Michael would likely be assigned there, tending to his daily trading duties testing market-movement hypotheses. However, since southern California homes don’t have basements, he wavered over choosing a corner in the upstairs den or renting a cubicle downtown where Sue might show up every single trading day of the year. Really not much of a choice, he guessed, and as you know, he chose the latter.

He didn’t know much about Sue’s home life. Is she married, does she have a boyfriend, any kids, does she want a boyfriend? He knew he’d be willing to exchange friendly banter–at least he thought he would. Trading does, however, demand focus. Some days he was into several risky positions and a quarter point move up or down could make his day. Sue never appeared anxious, so maybe they didn’t trade the same positions. In fact, Michael was not sure what she did every day. But he thought she was with him, and it was a satisfying feeling, believing you’ve got someone, maybe a fellow trader, right there alongside you, always. At the end of each day when he’d closed his positions and prepared to go home, Sue was there, still staring at her computer screens.

It was not an easy choice, this business of trading the financial markets. Michael usually traded stocks–or equities, as the pros call them, exchange-traded funds or ETFs, and options. He was not exactly a day trader because he didn’t close all positions at the end of every day. If some position was trading in his favor and he expected it to continue, he’d stick with it till the next day. Sure, he knew the unwritten rules about risking capital overnight but he had to admit he let a mixture of both emotion and logic influence most decisions. He would even stick with some positions over the weekend, but had been hurt by this choice on more than one occasion.

Oh well, Michael thought, what would my father say if he knew I was willingly bending the rules? Mr. Theodore Renaldi himself would surely have much to say. In fact, he never accepted the fact that Michael would do anything in retirement other that what he had done.

Michael, he would say, you are a product of your environment; do what you know. He had passed away two years ago, but Michael could still hear him saying that he took particular pride in exposing Michael to all things real estate. He specialized in rentals and flips. They’d scour promising locations, find the most rundown house in the best neighborhood, and make an offer.

Michael, all you have to do is know what the full market value of this house will be after we fix it up, determine how much it will cost us to do the repairs, and offer a price that makes it worth doing.

Michael was probably ten or eleven when his father began dragging him along on scouting trips. He didn’t like looking at old houses or cleaning up after some family that moved without paying rent for several months. Yes, he learned a lot about leases, liens, contracts, lies, thieves, cheats, and government rules and regulations, but his heart was never in it despite the comfortable living Dad provided.

Michael’s dad made it a point to share ideas about how parents have a responsibility to expose their kids to many different things early in life. The environment you inhabit, the people you hang around, the books you read, the things you hear, see, and do the most, have the biggest influence on what you do or will become, Ted Renaldi would repeat.

"Well, Dad, I know you’re gone now. And I truly appreciate all those life lessons you shared. I did try a couple flips and rentals on my own. I made good money following your advice–thanks, but probably the most important thing I’ve learned is that I am a product of my own expectations rather than a product of my own environment.

"Here’s what happened. I expected something more, something different of myself, and I went out and just grabbed hold of it. I learned I wasn’t limited by what you