Chapter 7 #2
“So when do you think you might be up for a visit? Even if you don’t see HR, you could still see the town, take in some of the local favorites. I hope you like fish. We seem to eat a lot of it around here.”
“Love fish,” Uly replied. “Especially with lemon and tartar sauce.”
Lemon and tartar sauce? Why? Who’d mess up a perfectly grilled salmon with unnecessary flavors? Plain was best.
“I’m sure we can find you some,” I replied, doing my best to keep the distaste from my voice.
I sipped my tea, a lovely creation from our beverage master.
An enchanting blend of a variety of popular garden herbs along with prominent notes of blueberries and ginger.
It had been our bestselling product for going on six years.
Jenna had loved it, and I made sure there was always a wide selection of beverages in the house to suit her needs and tastes—from tea to whiskey, everything was stocked with her in mind.
Thoughts of Jenna made me smile. She once told me she’d never be perfect, so I’d better be ready to accept her as she was.
And I did. Every year we were married, I fell deeper in love with her.
Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly have more in my heart, she gave birth to the boys, and I felt it swell in my chest, making room for all three of them.
“Mr…. I mean, Brent?”
I jerked upright, totally forgetting I had been talking with Uly. “I am so sorry. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m tired. Several meetings this week working to get the new financial department up and running, so I’m dragging.”
“Shut up,” he remonstrated. “You’re allowed to be tired. How many sticks do you have in the fire?”
Way too many. Even if the bulk of things were handled by my department heads, I was still called on constantly, being pulled in all directions.
I had to okay new ideas, sign off on proposals, listen to updates on where projects were.
I enjoyed being part of the process, but it would have been nice to be a bit more hands off.
Not having the weight of the sleuths’ success pressing down on my shoulders constantly.
“Just a few,” I said lamely.
“Liar,” he teased. “Dude, you have two kids. You need to take care of yourself so you’re there for them.”
And there he was again, being blunt. I found it refreshing. “You’re right.”
“And don’t say ‘well, after things slow down’….”
Which I was about to. “I would never.”
“Another lie. You’re no good at it, so stop trying.”
Jenna had said that to me in the past. It was nice to hear Uly say it too. Not that I enjoyed being called out, but more that someone cared enough to do it.
“Hey, thank you,” I told him.
“For what?”
“Being willing to call me out. No one does that anymore. Jenna—my late wife—used to, but after she died, everyone walks on eggshells around me.”
And wow, that made me sound even more pathetic than I felt. Meeting Uly, thinking about Chaim, memories of Jenna, which always warmed me. I was feeling oddly vulnerable lately, and wasn’t sure why.
“I should probably let you go. I have a meeting in about thirty minutes. Please, do think about coming for a visit. I’d love to show you the town and have you meet my family.”
“I’d like that.”
“Great. I’ll send the plane to pick you up.”
“What? No. Definitely not. I’ll take the bus.”
“You will do no such thing. Flying is the easiest way to get here.”
“Then I’ll see what money I have and how much it costs.”
“I will send the plane for you,” I growled.
“And I said no. I’m not a private plane kind of person.”
“Then let me buy you a plane ticket. I’ll even meet you at the airport instead of sending the limo.”
“Um… Okay.”
“That didn’t sound very enthusiastic. Will that be a problem?”
He sighed, deep and resigned. “Let’s be honest here, okay? I’m not even in your league. You probably have a chef who makes you some fantastical breakfast with fresh fruit, muffins, eggs Benedict, and stuff like that.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “This morning I had Frosted Flakes with sliced bananas because my kids wanted it. We do have a chef, but we’re also dealing with the palates of children.
They’ll eat mostly anything, but think anything green has to be moldy and anything not sweet must be bland and tasteless—not that I can really disagree on that part.
Amelia, our chef, slips in blended greens to various foods so the kids get their nutrition. We’re not so different from you.”
“Sure, let’s go with that.”
Uly was funny and I hadn’t have enough to laugh about in a good long while.
“How about we have dinner out when you get here? We’ll eat at our favorite restaurant which serves fish. The kids love it there. I’ll even make sure there is tartar sauce for you.”
“Are you knocking the sauce, man?”
The mock indignation had me laughing hard. “I’m glad I met you, Uly.”
“Me too,” he admitted, his voice bottoming out. “Go get ready for your meeting. I’ll figure out when a good time to come will be and let you know.”
“Sounds great. Looking forward to it. I know the boys will love to meet one of Daddy’s friends who isn’t a stuffy grown up.”
And it dawned on me then. Uly wasn’t at all stuffy. He was affable, open, and fun to talk with.
And I couldn’t wait to see him again.