Chapter 12 An Old Flame? #3
Greg lowered his eyes briefly toward his food, saying nothing. Harry suddenly became very interested in his fried rice. Janet continued studying Erica carefully. Not critically—thoughtfully. “And what truth did you find?” Janet asked quietly.
Erica folded her hands together loosely near the edge of the table. “That I’d spent most of my life trying to control outcomes because I was afraid of uncertainty.” She gave a faint laugh under her breath. “I thought if I controlled enough variables, then nothing painful could happen.”
“That sounds familiar,” Greg murmured quietly. “Somewhat introspective.”
Erica looked over at him. “Yeah,” she admitted.
“I suppose it should. We spent enough years around each other that we know everything about each other.” Janet watched both of them now with growing understanding.
“When Greg chose his work over me,” Erica continued carefully, “I convinced myself it meant I wasn’t important enough.
” She paused briefly. “The truth was that I demanded he stop being the person he actually was because I was afraid of what loving someone like him required of me.”
Greg looked genuinely caught off guard by the admission. “You were never second place to Pimico, Erica,” he said quietly. “I was doing everything there for you. For us. For OUR future,” he said with exasperation.
“I know that now,” she replied softly. “Back then I didn’t. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it back then, Greg. You deserved better from me and I truly failed.” Silence settled over the table again, though this time it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“And I’ve forgiven you for that,” he said slowly. “Maybe that’s why we are able to finally be comfortable around each other again.” Janet slowly smiled.
“There,” she said softly while lifting her tea. “That right there is the lesson underneath the lesson.”
Greg looked toward her. “Meaning?”
Janet took a slow sip before answering. “Intelligence teaches people how to solve problems. Wisdom teaches people how to survive themselves.”
Harry sat back in his chair. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m back in class again?”
“Because you are,” Janet replied immediately. “Don’t forget this Harry. The whole world is a classroom and we are all students, no matter what age we are.”
Harry sighed dramatically. “I knew there was a hidden tuition fee attached to this lunch.” That finally broke the heaviness again, drawing another round of softer laughter from the table.
Harry looked down, realizing his meal was nearly finished.
“Greg, don’t forget that meal for mom, and would you include one for Frieda? ”
“Of course I will, Harry. Take my card,” he said handing it to him. “Order whatever you want, it’s on me.”
“Thanks, Greg. This is why I give up my church morning for you.” Harry returned from the counter balancing two additional takeout bags carefully in his arms while Greg slid his card back into his wallet.
“Mission accomplished,” Harry announced proudly.
“One order for mom, one for Frieda, and I may have added some extra crab rangoon because I’m a compassionate son. ”
“You mean because you wanted some for yourself later,” Greg corrected.
“That too,” Harry laughed, admitting it freely as he sat the bags down on the table.
The conversation gradually settled again into a comfortable quiet while everyone finished the last few bites of their meals.
Outside the restaurant windows, the midday Sunday traffic drifted steadily along Johnson Drive while soft instrumental music played overhead through the small dining room speakers.
Greg leaned back slightly, folding his napkin beside his tray as Janet slowly finished the last piece of chicken on her plate.
Erica sat quietly for several moments, watching Greg from across the table with an expression that Janet noticed immediately.
Thoughtful. Hesitant. Almost cautious. Finally Erica cleared her throat softly. “Greg?”
He looked over toward her. “Yeah?”
“Could I speak with you privately for a little while?” she asked carefully. “There are some things I think you need to know.”
The shift in her tone immediately caught his attention.
This was no longer nostalgia or casual conversation.
Greg straightened slightly in his seat. “Sure,” he answered calmly.
“I was just heading home from here anyway.” He motioned lightly toward Harry.
“Harry’s dropping me off then taking Aunt Janet back to Lawrence. ”
Harry gave a small nod while pushing the takeout bags together on his side of the booth. “That’s true,” he admitted. “After I get done I can get these meals home.”
Erica glanced briefly toward Janet before looking back at Greg. “Then let me drive you home,” she offered. “That way Harry can get Aunt Janet back without having to make another stop and the meals won’t be so cold.”
Greg paused only briefly before nodding once. “That makes sense. I’ll have to grab my bags out of the trunk of the mini-limo.”
Janet quietly watched both of them over folded hands, saying nothing at first. Then a faint smile touched the corner of her mouth. “I believe that is probably the best arrangement. I am a little tired from the trip down and back.”
Harry pointed lightly with one finger. “That works for me. Mom was already timing how late I am going to be in getting back.”
“That woman could probably coordinate military invasions with a kitchen timer,” Greg replied with a light laugh.
“She practically did while raising me,” Harry answered jollily.
That earned another round of softer laughter before the table finally began breaking apart naturally.
Greg stood first, collecting the remaining trash from the table while Harry grabbed the takeout bags.
Erica moved toward the door with Greg while Janet remained standing beside the booth watching quietly.
A few moments later they walked through the parking lot to where Harry had already opened the trunk of the mini-limo.
Greg retrieved his luggage carefully while Erica unlocked her car parked several spaces away.
Harry moved toward the driver’s side door while Janet slowly approached Greg.
“Well,” she said softly, looking up at him. “This has certainly been an interesting weekend.”
“That may be the understatement of the year,” Greg replied with a tired smile.
Janet stepped forward and wrapped both arms around him warmly. Greg returned the embrace without hesitation. “Thank you again,” she whispered near his ear. “For everything.”
“You don’t owe me thanks, Aunt Janet.”
“Yes,” she corrected quietly. “I do. James and I started talking again.” They slowly separated.
Janet studied him for a moment before her eyes shifted toward Erica standing beside her car waiting patiently.
The older woman’s expression grew thoughtful again.
“She seems different now,” Janet observed quietly. “Remember the lessons.”
Greg glanced over toward Erica. “Yeah,” he admitted after a moment. “She does seem different.”
Janet gave a faint nod. “More settled within herself. Less selfish.”
Erica clearly overheard the remark as she stepped closer, keys still in hand.
She smiled softly though there was humility in it now rather than confidence.
“The mistake of leaving Greg forced me to finally face myself honestly,” she admitted.
“Exactly the way you always taught us to do back in class.”
Janet held her gaze for several seconds.
Then slowly, approvingly, she nodded once.
“Most people spend their entire lives avoiding that mirror,” Janet replied gently.
“I’m glad you finally took a good look there, and it seems that you are acting on what you’ve learned about yourself. That’s very important.”
“I know,” Erica answered quietly. “I almost avoided that mirror too. Now, I’m just getting to really understand who I am, and who I want to be.”
Harry opened the limo door for Janet. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen. If we get moving now, we might actually beat Lawrence gameday traffic.”
“That sounds terrifying,” Greg deadpanned.
“It is,” Harry assured him solemnly. “They’ve got a good baseball team this year.”
Janet laughed softly before getting into the mini-limo. “They say that every year, Harry, but I have to admit that new pitcher is something else.” Greg closed the door behind her, then stepped back as Harry climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine started smoothly.
Harry lowered the driver’s window fully. “Don’t forget you’ve got meetings tomorrow morning, boss.”
“I know,” he said with a pat on Harry’s arm.
“And you should probably get some sleep at some point.”
“I know. Stop being a mother hen.”
“And maybe avoid fumigating any greenhouses,” he jokingly added.
Greg pointed toward him immediately. “That story needs to die.”
“Never,” Harry replied proudly before closing the window. He shifted the car into gear, pulling the mini-limo out of the parking lot. Greg moved over beside Erica’s car watching the vehicle disappear toward Johnson Drive. For several seconds neither he nor Erica spoke.
Then Erica lifted her keys slightly. “You ready?”
Greg exhaled slowly, glanced once more toward the departing limo, then looked back at her. “Depends,” he answered carefully. “How complicated is this conversation about to become?”
“That’s something that depends on how much trust we’ve established between us since I dropped that miscarriage bomb on you,” she said slowly. “This could be as complicated as that,” she answered as she opened her door. “Shall we go?”