“Thank you, Bill. By the way, Peter got a letter from Yale after he left for school this morning.”
“Good news?”
“Joan tried to get me to let her steam it open, but I resisted. I think, whatever information it contains, it would be best if Peter were the first to read it.”
“Well, let me know,” Eggers said. “I think I’m more nervous about this than you are.”
“Peter feels that both he and Ben Bacchetti are very well qualified to be accepted at Yale, and that the interview, should they be invited for one, will be the crucial test.”
“How did they do on the SATs?” Eggers asked.
“Ben did extremely well in all three categories, coming out with a combined score of 2140 out of 2400.”
“And Peter?”
“He aced the thing.”
“A 2400?”
“That’s right. They both did lots of activities in prep school as well, including working for charities, which is looked upon with favor these days. Ben was the editor for his school paper and wrote a column, and Peter has a nearly complete film to show.”
“You’d think that would get them into any school in the world,” Eggers said.
“Who knows?” Stone replied. “It was a lot easier when you and I were applying to NYU Law School. These days you can’t know how these admissions committees work.”
“Do they have backup schools?”
“Ben has already been accepted to Columbia, but Peter has no backup.”
“It might not hurt if he did.”
“The better I get to know Peter, the more I realize that he habitually assesses the possibilities and alternatives of any situation and chooses what he thinks is the best path. If he felt he needed a backup, he’d have one.”
“He has a lot of confidence.”
“He calls it structured optimism.”
Eggers laughed. “I like that.”
“Let’s hope Yale likes it, too.”
“What are you doing this evening?”
“Ben’s off to Choate next week, and we’re having an eighteenth birthday party for him at the house. I’ve rearranged my gym to provide a dance floor, and we’ve hired a DJ, and they’ll all eat in the kitchen.”
“Are you chaperoning?”
“Joan and Helene, my housekeeper, are handling that; they’re a lot tougher than either Arrington or I would be. I’m setting the motion detectors on the first floor so that if anybody tries to make it to a bed, the alarm will go off and lights will flash.”
“Smart move. Good luck.”
Stone got back to the house in time to be there when Peter returned from school. Joan handed him the letter, and he carried it to Stone’s office.
“I got a letter from Yale,” he said, holding it up.
“Good,” Stone replied.
“I’m going to read it now.”
“Good idea.”
Peter stared at the envelope a little longer, then he picked up a letter opener and carefully slit the envelope flap and removed the letter. He unfolded it and read aloud: “‘Dear Mr. Barrington, we are in receipt of yours and Mr. Benito Bacchetti’s applications and their relevant enclosures. We have scheduled an admissions committee meeting for 11:00 AM this Friday, the 7th, and we invite you and Mr. Bacchetti to be interviewed at that time. If this is seriously inconvenient, please phone my office to make other arrangements.’”