12
C hristopher’s eyes twinkled as he settled into his plush, red armchair, the glow of his laptop illuminating his face. His fingers flew across the keyboard, clicking through a myriad of websites showcasing activities in Alaska.
After the pleasant afternoon he'd spent with Eleanor, Christopher wondered if his daughter had been right. Getting away from work proved good for him. Maybe he could semi-retire. The thing was, having someone to do activities with made it much more appealing.
“Ho ho! What do we have here?” he chuckled, leaning closer to the screen. An article about dog sledding caught his attention, the image of majestic huskies racing across a snowy landscape filled him with wonder.
Perhaps, but he didn't know if Eleanor liked dogs. He also imagined her teasing that it was just another kind of sleigh.
He continued to scroll.
Christopher scratched his beard as he read. Ice fishing. Now that was an activity he hadn't tried even after a lifetime of living in the north. He could almost smell the cold, clean air and taste the fresh catch cooked over an open fire.
Yes. Ice fishing would be perfect.
His heart raced with anticipation as he reached for his phone, eager to call Eleanor. But just as his fingers brushed the device, it rang.
“Good afternoon, Christopher here,” he answered, his tone welcoming.
The voice on the other end was frantic, detailing a crisis at one of the toy factories.
“Let's not panic,” he soothed. “What seems to be the problem?”
As he listened to the details, Christopher's first instinct was to drop everything and rush to the factory. But then Jack's advice entered his mind. Delegate . Yes, he needed to delegate more. And why not start today? Then, he could still make plans with Eleanor.
“I understand the urgency,” Christopher said firmly. “I'll send Shelly or Adam right away. They can handle this situation.”
After a call to Adam, Christopher exhaled, relaxing. He picked up his phone again, this time dialing Eleanor's number. His finger shook slightly.
“Eleanor? It's Christopher. Do you have a minute to chat?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Wonderful.” He then proceeded to explain his idea.
“Ice fishing?” Eleanor did not sound convinced.
“Now, don't knock it 'til you've tried it,” Christopher said. “Picture this: a crisp winter morning, the lake like a sheet of glass. You're bundled up, a thermos of hot cocoa at your side. The anticipation as you drop your line through the ice.”
“Sounds cold.”
“Ah, but there's more,” Christopher said. “Think of the camaraderie, the stories shared. And when you feel that first tug on your line? There's nothing like it.”
“I thought you said you've never tried it.”
“I haven't, but that's how the website describes it.”
Much to his relief, Eleanor laughed. “You know I'm responsible for the dance contest. I can't possibly take time away now.”
“Oh, I understand completely. It's my busy season too, what with toy production ramping up. But sometimes a break can do wonders for productivity and creativity.”
There was a long pause. “Perhaps.”
“Think about it. A little adventure might be what you need to breathe new life into your contest planning.”
“Well, I suppose I could give it a try.”
“Great.” Christopher flipped through his planner. “How about Monday?”
Eleanor agreed, and he hung up the phone before sending out an email informing his staff that he would be unavailable on Monday. Shelly would question him right away, of course. But he'd deal with that when it happened. Right then, he wanted to savor the moment.