Chapter 23
The New Year began with an unexpected phone call. Harriman Patterson, a classmate of Quinton’s from Phillips Exeter, contacted me to do an interview about my son for the commemorative issue of the school’s alumni magazine.
“Twenty years,” he told me.
“You’re doing this more than a year in advance?”
“Yes. We want to do it properly.”
“And you said your name was Harriman Patterson?”
“Yes, Mrs. Mann. Although everyone back at Exeter knew me as Skip.”
“May I call you back?”
“Sure thing, ma’am.” And he rattled off his phone number.
Quinton was still out of town, so I couldn’t clear this with him. However, Mr. Patterson’s credentials withstood Gregor’s scrutiny, as well as mine, and I called him back later that afternoon.
“Harriman Patterson.”
“Mr. Patterson, it’s Portia Man
