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Within minutes, the dining room table is nearly sagging under the weight of several delicious dishes for us to sample. I’m once again amazed at Callum’s ability to rise to the occasion and feed us like royalty. The fare is varied and probably not originally meant to all go together, but with two extra mouths to feed, Callum needed to punt.
For the first few minutes of the meal, we all confine our comments to flattering Callum for his creative cooking. Jameson isn’t eating a whole lot, but he is definitely sampling everything and asking lots of questions. He acts like he’s giving a final exam the way he’s probing Callum about the sources of his ideas and his experience in culinary school. Callum loves to talk about his cooking, so he dives in, answering each question with zeal. He seems to have forgotten that halftime is over, and the football game is back on by now. I hope his family understands that he’s missing it for Petra’s sake.
But then, strangely, Jameson turns his eagle focus onto me and starts to ask questions about my psychology degrees. He seems quite happy to hear that I have a Ph.D. and that I not only have private clients whom I counsel, I also consult withbusinesses and work closely with corporate HR departments. He narrows his eyes at me and nods, looking especially pleased.
“I understand you’re both in love with my daughter,” Jameson announces, startling us with his blunt statement.
“I… ah… yes sir. That’s true,” I say with as much sincerity as I can muster.
Callum just blinks at him until Jameson also stares him down, and he answers, “Yes, we are.” He sits up straighter and continues, “and also with each other.”
I steel myself for a challenge, but Jameson’s reply catches me off guard. “Good. Then perhaps you will all consent to coming up to Chicago. You can all live in my house—permanently if you choose, and your dogs are welcome. You know there is plenty of room, and your privacy will be ensured. I’d like for you all to learn the ropes of my company because soon it will become Petra’s responsibility, and I’d love to know that she has your full support. There are jobs waiting for all of you to start as soon as possible. You, Callum, can exercise your culinary skills by creating menus for some of the top restaurants in the world and training chefs at the same time. Weston, you can be in charge of creating the right atmosphere and work climate for both employees and patrons of those restaurants, and Petra will use her writing skills in countless ways as she works with marketing and prepares technical documents and training manuals. All of these aspects of the business will come together to create restaurants that have the right feel to become a destinations worthy of diners who expect the finest. I see the three of you as the dream team with your creativity and brains. We need a shot in the arm from brilliant, creative young minds.”
My jaw probably drops a foot, and I’m speechless, but Callum is a little more together and asks, “Thank you for your faith in us, but may I ask what’s the rush? We have responsibilities and lives here in Indiana.” He looks at me and then Petra. “Or—atleast I have responsibilities here. The others are more portable, I guess.”
Petra quickly looks down at her lap and sniffles softly as her father studies Callum and then me and answers, “The cold, hard truth is that I don’t have much time left. I desperately want to see my company in the right hands, and I think that Petra and you young men have what it takes to do the job. I won’t be leaving you alone with this task; I have loyal employees in place who will serve to advise you. But the unfortunate truth is, I have an incurable cancer that won’t leave me alone, and I’m out of options.” He clears his throat. “I am not so selfish that I want to take Petra away from the two of you so that I can subject her to watching me die. I want to spend the time getting to know each other and building something positive for your futures. If you both love Petra as you claim, I hope you mean tohavea future with her, and this isn’t just some game you’re playing temporarily.”
“Wow,” I say. “Of course we expect to have a future with each other. But now I completely understand the mixed emotions we saw on your faces when we came upstairs. This is… ah… hard to take in. It’s exciting, and the possibilities for a what you are proposing are endless, but to realize that after all these years, you two are together again just to essentially say goodbye is rather… ah… heartbreaking. I’m flattered and so, so sorry, Jameson.”
“I couldn’t say it better myself,” Callum agrees. “Thank you for considering us for something so important.”
“I’ve learned the hard way,” Jameson answers, “that nothing is more important to me than my daughter and her happiness and well-being. My priorities have not always been set in the right order, but there is nothing like facing your mortality to give you the kick in the ass you need to get it all straightened out.” He looks exhausted suddenly and asks, “Do you think you couldshow me somewhere that I could lie down for a bit of a nap for a while? I think Callum has a football game to get back to, and I’m beat. We can resume this conversation later.”
“Thank you. I’ll take you up to my room,” Callum tells him. With Bing’s watchful help, they head for the stairs.
Petra stops them suddenly when she asks, “Oh hey, Dad, did you happen to give me a wonderful set of first edition Winnie the Pooh books in a beautiful box when I was little?”
Jameson turns with a happy smile on his face and says, “I did. You always loved stories, and they seemed just right for you. Aren’t they something?”
With her shoulders drooping, she answers, “Thank you so much for the thoughtful gift, Dad. They were my prized possessions until my mother stole them. I’m trying to find them now, but so far, I’m having no luck.”
All of the air seems to whoosh out of Jameson as he says, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’ll see what I can do too.” He turns back around shaking his head muttering what sounds like some rather creative obscenities.
What a day. My head is spinning.
Forty-Three
Callum
Well,that was a surprise. My head is suddenly filled with notions of producing magnificent dishes and overseeing menus for fancy restaurants. Could this be for real? It sounds like the best of everything. I would get to create and advise without the repetitious, stress-filled work and late-night hours.
Bing and I get Jameson settled—the poor guy could barely make it up the stairs. I briefly considered offering him the living room couch when I saw how labored his walking had become, but I sensed he wanted some privacy as well as a rest. He made it up just fine in the end. I have to hand it to him. He has a very strong will. Petra must get her backbone from him. Thank God she’s nothing like her thieving disgrace of a mother.
As we head back down to the football game, I ask Bing, “How long have you worked for Jameson?”
“Oh, gosh. About ten years now, I guess.”
“Wow. So you know him really well?”
“I do. I take care of his household and drive for him, plus I’m his personal assistant outside of the office. He has an assistantat his company who does that side of his life, but my duties are more home-based.”
“You live there with him?”
“Yes.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you score a job like that?”
Bing chuckles and says, “By becoming part of his collection.”
