Page 95 of 4 Corinthians

“I k-k-k-k-know,” he agreed. I looked up to see him smiling. He winked, then started preparing our food.

I watched him as he cooked. Uri moved effortlessly through the kitchen. Our simple salad turned into not only that but also homemade cookies.

“So how did you get into accounting?” I asked between bites of my salad.

“I’m good w-w-w-w-with numbers,” he answered. “I always have been. Uncle Bradon noticed it first and d-d-d-d-d-dared me to solve a problem. I did. He p-p-p-paid me; then I did it again.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was; I saw the pride in his eyes, heard it in his voice. “I went to college for accounting, then became Nine’s accountant. That turned into me picking up our friends as clients. I got my hands on their books, flipped them and turned them into millionaires.”

“You work for Nine?”

“Yes and no,” he answered.

“What does that mean?” I took a bite of chicken and waited.

“I own a few businesses, some solely, others with Nine. Nine owns a few on his own; for those, I am his accountant. So… “

“Yes and no,” I finished for him, and he nodded. He took a bite of his food.

“Do you plan to expand?”

I chewed my food and thought about his question. I loved owning my shop, but the thought of expanding was on hold. “Not yet,” I answered.

“Why?”

“I opened my shop because of a grant. I didn’t think I was going to get it, but I did. I’ve been successful, but I want to meet the grant's stipulations first. They aren’t difficult or even uncalled for, but I want to show the company that awarded me the money first that I’m a success. I have two more years under the grant; once I am the sole owner of the building, I plan to expand. I already have my eye on the next area, well, a general idea of where I want to be. It’s closer to the house, the school Judah will be going to.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “So, you have a two-year plan?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “You have longer?” Uri nodded. “How far out is yours?” I didn’t know anything about his company, but if they were half as successful as Nine’s, then Uri was way further into his bag than I was.

“A lifetime,” he answered with a smirk.

***

I dropped onto the couch, making Judah laugh as I playfully landed on him. “Mommy!” he yelled from beside me. I laid back, covering him but being mindful of him being under me. “Mommy!”

“I hear someone, but I don’t see them,” I playfully said, looking around the room. “It sounds like Judah, but the voice is a little too deep.”

“It’s meeeee!” he squealed and moved. “Mommy, it’s me.”

“How do I know it's really you?”

“Who else would it be?” he laughed. “It’s me, Judah DeCorte, your son.”

“Prove it,” I said, looking over my shoulder to see him looking up at me. His eyes were bright and big with happiness. “What’s a secret only you would know?”

“I know everything,” he laughed. “I’m the smartest person you know.”

“Prove it.”

“Your favorite color is gold; you like flowers that Auntie Bug plants. Your favorite one is right outside your window, so when you wake up it’s the first thing you see.”

“Those are easy, name something hard.”

“You fart in your sleep!” he laughed. I jumped up, put my hands on my hips, and narrowed my eyes at him.

“I do not.”

“You do,” he insisted as he nodded. “And it sounds like this!” He made a farting noise with his mouth, then fell over laughing. “Every time.”