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Atleast she’d had a good hour without thinking too much about the shopping mall.
Ofcourse now that shewasthinking about it, she made a mental note, resigning herself to textChelsea, even with a short update.Asshe’d been repeatedly reminded, the coveted promotion was on the line.Whileit might be a holiday for millions ofAmericans,Chelseawas not among those celebrating.Shewould be glued to her desk, like every other day.
AfterLilyandWyattsaid their goodbyes,Wyattled her to his truck, holding the door for her.Hewas in many ways an old-fashioned gentleman.Shewas glad she wore the new cowboy boots she’d bought onMainStreet.Afterall, where better to show them off than a truly authentic hootenanny?
ChapterThirty-One
Loupulled theEscaladeup to the rental cabin.Granted,cabinwas a modest name for a luxury four-thousand-square-foot house, a stone’s throw from the one he was having theSomersboys build.Buthe’d learned everything in life was relative.
Heunlocked the front door, flicking on the lights, illuminating the entry hall and sitting room.Hewas greeted by silence.
Hesat on the settee by the door, slipped off his loafers, placing them neatly in the corner.Instockinged feet he walked through to the kitchen, a state-of-the-art affair that now seemed cavernous, and pulled a bottle ofMerlotfrom the wine fridge.
Waitingfor it to breathe,Louconsidered the last few hours.Theevening with theSomersfamily was more fun and informative than he’d expected.Theywere an amusing bunch.Andspeaking withLilyhad brought back some dormant feelings.Hehoped she took his advice to heart.
WhenWyattinvited him to join his family for aJulyFourthbarbecue, he felt pathetic.Seemedeveryone in the world had someone to share the special day with.Everyoneexcept for him.
Ofcourse, it was his own fault that he was alone in his seventies.Hehad been lacking as a husband.Otherthan his brother, his daughterFrancinewas his only remaining family.Andthe relationship with his brother had its own pitfalls.Afar cry from the one he witnessed in theSomershome.
Aftera failed marriage of her own,Francinehad sworn off the institution for herself, content to live in unwedded bliss.Thatwas assuming she ever met the right guy.Sadly, she had adopted the ‘does he love me or my money’ predicament that followed the uber wealthy around for life.Loususpected grandchildren were a far off advent, if ever.
Loupoured himself a healthy amount of wine and took a sip.Perfectbouquet.Complex, with hints of blackberry and oak.He'dcome a long way since his days growing up in middle-class, suburbanDenver.
Duringthe dwindling days of his marriage, a parade of well-meaning but ill-equipped counselors had labored to unearth what was keeping him from investing in the thirty-year union.Truthwas he wasn't sure himself.Thatwas until that fateful day.Whenhe knew his marriage was over.
He’dbeen working in his office on the fiftieth floor ofRepublicPlaza, a huge space, offering expansive views of theFrontRange.Hisassistant had left behind a pile of papers for him to review.Atthe top was a portfolio of investments to consider.Aprospectus fromCartwrightProperties.Hisfinance guy had been pushing him to diversify and highly recommended theNewYork-based company.Louopened the file finding a list of their top-performing investments along with other information about the firm.Hewas skimming through the material when something caught his eye.
OurEmployeesStickAround
Itwas an article, part of the company's promotional material, relating how their business retained top talent when their competitors had sky-high turnover rates.Athirty-two year employee was being highlighted.She'dstarted her career as a secretary, scaling the corporate ladder.Nowshe worked on the team of the firm's highest performing property manager.Therewere no photos.Buthe knew.
Itwas her.
Thewoman he dreamt of during those lonely nights.
Thewoman he had loved since high school.
Noway could she be mistaken for someone else.Hername was unusually spelled.Theage added up.
Anative of theMileHighCity.
Likea tsunami, the memories flooded back.
Theymet in their junior year inJeffersonHigh.Mr.Jones, the science teacher, teamed them up as lab partners.
Transportinghimself,Lousaw her as clear as that day, decades ago.Hewas instantly taken with her and the feeling soon turned mutual.
Shewas looking at him over her microscope, her black bob bouncing as she laughed at one of his inane jokes.Herdeep red lips forming into a brilliant smile, the same one she gifted him with each time they were together.
Atleast for a while.Untilthe summer after graduation.Wheneverything went wrong.
Somany memories.
Loupulled himself from the reverie and chugged down the remnants of the pricey vintage.Hefelt a momentary pang of guilt, knowing to oenophiles it was blasphemy not to savor the wine in slow consideration.Buthe couldn't bring himself to linger in his ruminations any longer.
Leavingall the lights on,Loutrudged upstairs and put himself to bed.
ChapterThirty-Two
