October 2021

Rocky often entertains politicians at The Van Darby Club in Mechanicsburg, so it wasn’t unusual when he said a candidate running for the United States Senate was coming out to hunt.  Sometimes politicians use it as a good opportunity for a photo-op: holding a shotgun and dead bird = a sportsman. Rocky wanted to borrow our leather chair and ottoman from the den to fancy things up at the clubhouse for the occasion. “Are you joking?” I said. “The guy‘s probably going to cancel anyway if something better comes along. Plus, we have our dinner party in two days for my birthday, and the chair needs to be here.” Rocky promised it would be back in time but finally agreed it wasn’t the best idea he ever had.

The next day I walked around our living room, den, and kitchen to ensure everything was in place for the dinner party. I straightened lampshades, furniture, rugs, accessories, art - you name it. After Rocky and I set the dining room table for sixteen, everything was in place, and the house looked beautiful. I headed back to my desk to do some work, and Rocky picked up Sawyer to run errands.

Unbeknownst to me, the boys returned to the house, took the chair and ottoman from the den, loaded it onto Rocky’s truck, and took off for the clubhouse outside Mechanicsburg. They intended to return it the next day, thinking I wouldn’t notice a brief disappearance. Rocky made a stop in Mechanicsburg and another at his club manager, Dave Perdue’s house, to tell him they were dropping the chair off at the club. Dave glanced at the back of the truck and asked, “What chair?”  Not looking back, Rocky responded, “You know, the one I told you about.”  Perplexed that there was no chair in the truck, but assuming Rocky knew what he was talking about, Dave watched them drive off. When Rocky and Sawyer arrived at the clubhouse, they went to unload the furniture, but there was no chair. That’s right, no chair - only an ottoman.

Shocked and panic-stricken, they wondered, “Could the unsecured chair have been stolen or possibly swept out by the wind?” And how were they ever going to explain their deception to me? The only thing they could do was to retrace their tracks, so they turned around and drove slowly back to Columbus, praying a flying chair hadn’t caused an accident on the Interstate. They checked every inch of the highway, but there was no sign of the chair. When they reached Bexley, they turned around and headed back to Mechanicsburg, determined not to give up the search. As they drove onto the freeway, Sawyer shouted, “Papa, there’s the chair, over there, along the road!”  Relieved by the discovery, they pulled over, turned on the emergency blinkers, ran across the road, grabbed the chair, and loaded it back onto the truck. The chair was neither tied down nor otherwise secured and flew out of the truck within minutes after taking it from the house. Scratched and torn, its bones survived, but the skin would require a major repair. But for now, they had to face the music.

I was in the shower when the boys returned and could hear Rocky at the bathroom door mumbling something to me about a broken chair. His voice was trembling, so I assured him whatever it was, not to worry as long as no children were hurt. I first heard that expression years ago after spilling a glass of red wine all over my girlfriend’s silk Armani blouse and laced cami. I was mortified, but she calmly said, “Suzy, no children have been hurt!” I’ve never forgotten those words and thought this was the perfect time to use them. But after doing so, it occurred to me he was talking about the chair I told him not to take. Furious, swearing, and forgetting about any children being hurt, I headed up front and found Rocky and Sawyer cowering in the kitchen. They sheepishly explained that the chair had unexpectedly flown out of the truck, unnoticed. I asked, “Did you ever look out the back window during your fifty-minute trip to make sure the chair and ottoman were still there? Didn’t you hear a ker-thump when the chair flew out?  Was it tied down? How did the chair not kill somebody?  Didn’t Dave see it when you stopped at his house? Are you guys related to Cheech and Chong?” Like two scolded puppies, they hung their heads in mortification.

Unfortunately, the leather chair never made it to my birthday dinner, only the ottoman. But what’s an ottoman without a chair? In this particular case, it’s an extraordinary ottoman  and happens to be the one President Biden sat on when he signed Bennett’s book, “Promise Me, Dad,” in 2019.

We eventually had the chair repaired, but it never looked the same. I picked out new furniture for the den, and Rocky was thrilled to take the broken chair and the President’s ottoman to the clubhouse. As predicted, the Senate candidate never showed up for the hunt. Evidently, something better came along.