Was he actually blushing? “Let me guess.”
He chuckled. “Two months and I asked her to marry me. And she did.”
Fiona cleared the table and wiped it with a damp cloth. “Do you feel like sitting out on the front porch? It’s so lovely out.”
He eventually settled in his favorite rocker by the window. “I’da been out here five minutes sooner without that contraption.” He shoved the walker aside.
“Or I might have been picking you up off the floor,” she mumbled, and pulled a chair close. “Do you remember the night you fell and needed to go to the hospital?”
“I’m not likely to forget that for a while. I still have this lovely shiner.”
“True.” She softened her voice and began slowly. “Well, when Bryce brought me home from the hospital that night…there’d been an accident in the office.”
Chapter Thirty-three
They were sitting in Leo’s office around a stained-glass table near the windows. Outside, angry clouds roiled over the choppy, gunmetal-grey waves on the lake. A spring storm in the making.
Leo asked her and Ari to come back to talk after the board meeting. The others had left for lunch. Leo wanted to order gyros from his favorite Greek shop on the corner. At one time, Stavros—the owner—worked in delivery for the Global warehouse, but his long-range dream was to buy his own restaurant. Leo made it happen.
“I know it’s a bit early, but I’d like a dram of that Old Pulteney. Ari, would you do the honors?”
“Sure thing.” He unfolded the doors on a mirrored wall unit that displayed at least twenty bottles of whisky. Tasting glasses lined the bottom shelf.
Bryce watched the ritual as it had been performed many times before, and remembered all the little tips Leo had given her over the years. He’d been so patient and kind. How could she take time off when he was just recovering?
Ari handed each of them a glass, and sat down. “L’chaim.”
Maybe for the first time, Bryce felt like an integral member of the company and not just Leo’s pet. She relished the smooth, warm taste as it filled her mouth.
“I feel like this might be the wrong time for my leave—”
Leo put his hand up. “No. It’s the perfect time. You need a break, and I want you in Scotland. Remember, it’s a paid leave, and I’d appreciate your wise counsel as we move forward with some of these new accounts. Not full-time, you understand.”
“I’m not sure I do. Take a leave but be on-call?” It suddenly felt weird.
“Do you trust me, Bryce?”
“Of course.”
Leo smiled. “Go on back and decide where you want to live and what you’ll be doing. It will take some time to get these new people on board. I want you to take a real break and relax. I mean it.”
She took another sip as Ari asked Leo about another matter.
The wind had picked up and the clouds were buffeted wildly across the sky. She felt the same way. Remember he has invested a lot of time and money in you.
“Hey Leo!” A booming voice introduced a large dark-haired man with a prodigious black moustache carrying a box. “How’s my old friend. I miss you too much lately.”
“Stavros! It’s wonderful to see you, too.” He stood and hugged the man. “I had to take a little sick time, but I’m back.”
“Wonderful. Here, I brought your favorite with some extra tzatziki sauce. I know how much you like it.”
Leo slipped a large bill into his apron.
Stavros pushed his hand back. “No, no, my friend. This is for you.” He hurried out the door.
The sandwiches were huge and hot, and smelled wonderful. Warm pita with spicy sliced gyro meat was stacked with a generous portion of the white sauce, tomato, and onion.
“Good choice,” said Ari, mouth half-full.
She groaned with the deliciousness. “I can’t remember the last time I had one of these. Do you think Stavros could ship to Scotland?”
Leo smiled. “With overnight delivery, my dear, anything is possible.”
She listened as the two talked about business, but her mind was already in Scotland and hoping to settle someplace where she could wander the countryside at leisure and still help the MacDougalls make whisky…if they’d have her.
Just thinking about physical work and not doing “deals” made her smile. After all her years of sedentary work, she wondered about her physical stamina. Better start some reconditioning soon. That meant running, and probably some free weights if she thought she’d be able to move those barrels. And that storeroom would need to be organized…maybe some new shelving, better lighting…
She looked up, and both men were smiling.
“Was…I talking out loud?”
“Muttering is more like it, but clearly you weren’t here. Why don’t you go back to the hotel and start planning your new adventure? I’ll call you later with some replacement names.”
“I will, thank you. I’d like to take the rest of this with me, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course! I would, too, but I’m going to finish mine. Thanks, Bryce.”
The cold, damp wind hit her when she exited the building. She wished Fiona could be right here, experiencing the dramatic changes in the city on the big lake. It was pretty majestic. She loved the smell before a storm, but decided to run to beat the rain.
She needed to make some phone calls—soon.
****
“What do you mean, ‘a fire’?” Gavin shouted.
“Everything is all right. But we think Murray fell asleep at the desk and must’ve dropped a cigarette in the trash bin. Bryce and I were able to pull him to safety and put out the fire.”
“What the hell got into him?” His face flushed with anger.
“I don’t know. But it’s why I wanted to ask you.” She took a breath. “There was a half-empty bottle on the desk, but no label. I have no idea what he was drinking.”
“Well, what did he tell you?”
“Nothing. I steered him back to his cottage and he stumbled into bed. I haven’t seen hide nor hair since.”
He rubbed his chin and looked up in the tree.
“Dad, I don’t know if we can trust him to help run the business. And I don’t think we can do it alone.”
“Maybe it was a foolish dream,” he whispered.
“What’s happening here that I’m not being told?”
“These apple trees were the first things your great-great-grandmother planted when they had to rebuild the house. There was a terrible fire. It nearly took all the buildings, the story goes. An awful lot of work and dreams are part of this place.” He tapped out his pipe on the railing and dug his tobacco pouch from his vest.
The ritual was always the same, and soon Fiona could smell the same familiar tobacco smoke she had as a toddler. She remembered the old brown-and-white tin of the St. Bruno’s Flake tobacco on the mantel shelf as one of her earliest memories. When he kissed her good night, she smelled it.
“All these years…I thought sometime we’d have a chance to talk to you.” He crossed his ankle over his knee. “The short of it is this: while we were at sea, Murray lost his family—mother, father and two sisters—in a horrible fire. A lorry filled with fuel oil went over the rail and ran into the house. Neighbors described it as a great fireball. He didn’t get word for days.”
“Oh, my God.” Fiona felt her stomach drop. It was unimaginable to lose everyone like that and not be able to get there. It explained so much of Murray’s odd behavior. And then he almost…
Silence enveloped both of them.
“I was the only one he had, so I took him in. The lad was a mess. Started drinking and betting. I covered for him as best I could, but he piled up some serious debt.”
“That’s what the little receipts were on the desk. Offsite betting.” It made sense now. “He must’ve been worried about his debt…”
He nodded. “I would hold those for him till payday and give him a money order to cover the debt. The less c
ash he had, the better. Your mother never understood why I did it.” He looked up with teary eyes. “What else could I do? He was my mate for all those years.”
“I guess we’ll have to keep a better eye on him.” Her quick trip home to check on her dad had become something much more complicated.
The thought of submitting a resignation from her teaching career felt heavy, like a mantle of chainmail that seemed to increase daily. There were no options. This was her home and her family.
“I’m going to get some water. I’ll be right back.” The tears wouldn’t wait as she dashed to her room and closed the door. With her face in her pillow, she let the sobs come from her deepest soul. She’d never felt more alone. She cried for her lost dreams and her hopes.
****
Reggie held her head in both hands and stared at the flashing cursor on the laptop.
We had a special friendship, and I shouldn’t have pushed it. That was my fault, too…
And I do understand what you were trying to do with the MacDougalls. They have a great whisky and it was wrong to butt in. It’s exactly what Leo was looking for and you found it. I don’t know why I got so pissed. Embarrassed, I guess. And jealous of you—again.
Leo reacted so calmly and was kind. More so than I would have been. He was vague about the promotion, but I don’t feel I deserve it.
This is so fucked up and I don’t know how to fix it.
I’m sorry.
Reggie stared at the message she’d typed to Bryce. For several hours, she’d agonized about sending it, hoping to mend fences, but unsure about the timing. It didn’t much matter: she had a conference call with Leo and Ari in an hour.
She took a deep breath and hit Send. There was no way back now.
She pushed back from her desk and walked to the window. The hazy sun sank a bit lower over the ocean and reflected a warm glow on the windows of the tall buildings around her office. Now that the energy from all that anger and antagonism leaked out, she had little left. Might as well go back to her apartment.
Chapter Thirty-four
By the end of the day, Bryce had talked with her California landlord about subletting her condo, sent her wonderful neighbor a list of items she’d need from her closet, and promised a shipping address in a few days.
The list looked less daunting. There were still some casual clothes she’d need. In the past ten years she’d rarely needed anything more casual than slacks and a polo shirt. The shorts and three T-shirts she’d taken to Scotland were essentially for sleeping or travel. Maybe heavy-duty shoes or boots? No sense in getting those in the U.S. It made more sense to stop in Glasgow and shop when she knew for sure what she’d be doing.
She flopped on the bed and picked up her cell phone. One message:
From Brian Townsend:
Ms. Andrews, wondered if we could meet up sometime. I have a few questions.
Thanks, Brian
She replied that she’d call Wednesday when she returned from the States, then checked the time. Nearly two—that meant nine at Fiona’s. Might be a good time.
It rang three times before Fiona picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Fiona. It’s Bryce. Can you hear me okay?”
“Yes. What a wonderful surprise. I’m delighted you’ve called.”
Her lilting voice and soft burr sent a shiver through Bryce. “I wasn’t sure if it was too late. I didn’t want to disturb you, but I was curious about your dad.” More curious about you.
“How nice. He’s been released and is home. It’s strange, but he seems to be a bit better since the conk on his head.”
Bryce grinned just hearing any news. Fiona sounded pleased. Hopefully, it was the call. “That’s great news. I have some, too. I finished my business in Chicago and my boss very happily granted my leave.”
“He did? You mean you are coming back here?”
She really sounded incredulous.
“Well…yes. Didn’t I say that I wanted to return to help you?”
Fiona paused and then took a loud breath. “You did, but…I guess I’ve heard that before and I wasn’t sure. It’s been so difficult…well…I’m glad. Really.”
It surprised her that Fiona wasn’t happier to have the support. Had she really been that vague? “I want this new venture to succeed for you and your dad. I want to be there for you, as I promised.” Her heart pounded when she thought she’d read the signal wrong. “But, if you don’t want to restart the business, that’s okay, too. I want to spend some downtime in Scotland anyway, and I—”
“I do want you to come back. It’s just…things are confused right now. Nothing bad. We can talk about it when you get here. When will you leave?”
“I’ll leave tomorrow, so I’ll probably be back in Craigellachie sometime Tuesday.”
“Wonderful. Are you going to stay at the inn?”
“For now. I looked at a couple of cottages in the area. I’ll see what’s available. No rush—I have time to decide.” Bryce smiled, thinking about having that much time off no matter what she chose to do. Travel, sleep late, hang out in the pub, walk the hills…
Fiona laughed. “It really is good news. I’ve missed talking to you.”
“I have, too.” That was it—the connection she hoped would be there. They both had danced around that special night they spent talking. Something had happened, but she couldn’t quite name it. “Listen, is there anything you’d like from the States?”
“Really? Wow, I never thought about it.”
“No hurry. Text me if you think of something.”
“I will. Have a safe trip, and will you let me know when you land?” She sounded worried.
“I will. I’ll see you very soon.”
“Good night.”
Bryce kept the phone on her chest and closed her eyes. It was true. There was indeed a spark, and she could feel it. All this time they were focused on the distillery and her dad. Underneath, an electric current ran between them, and it wasn’t until she left for the States that Bryce had felt the disconnection.
For so many months, she’d kept a singular focus on work and nothing else. The pain of Gretchen’s betrayal still burned, and she couldn’t risk a distraction. She sat up.
Was her laser focus damaging her other relationships? Did Reggie rebel because her feelings were hurt? She may very well have permanently burnt an important bridge, one that could adversely affect the company. She could call Reggie…but, probably not until Leo completed the changes in the San Francisco office.
Right now, there was one more task to complete. A call home. Since it was still early, she decided to call her dad at work. Yes, she was chicken. Her mother would pitch a fit about her going back to Scotland for months without coming home. Her dad would be more understanding and supportive.
“Make the damn call, and you can go down to the gift shop and buy the beautiful coffee table book about Chicago for Fiona. Maybe even some of those Marshall Fields’ Frango Mints.”
****
Fiona heard the birds before she opened her eyes. A spring breeze brought earthy scents overlaid with flowers. She stretched and enjoyed the totally relaxed sensation from a solid night’s sleep. Letting go of her grief and anxiety, along with the wonderful news about Bryce’s return, turned everything around. The whole tangled web of loose strings surrounding Murray and her dad were pulled together. The weight of her responsibility lightened—especially since Bryce was willing to share the burden. In the morning light, clarity reigned, and she felt more confident. Plus, the damn bills were paid.
A hot shower, lighter clothes, and the smell of coffee and eggs got her singing and smiling. She set the table and poured some juice.
“Dad, it’s ready.”
“Coming.” She heard the clump of the aluminum walker on the wood floor. He’d finally quit complaining about it, and had only forgotten to use it once or twice. The bruising under his eye faded and the laceration healed. Best of all, his mental state continued to improve. Th
e doctor correctly guessed the “sleep tonic” had caused a cumulative toxicity. Since she dumped the bottle from the office, she’d seen no more of it.
Her dad appeared at the same time as a knock at the back door. “Murray. Come in and eat with us.”
“Morning. I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to ask a question.” He came barely to the end of the table.
“Have a seat. I’ll get you a plate.” Fiona set down two cups of coffee. This might be the perfect time to sort things out.
“Thank you. It’s good to have you home, Gavin.”
Conversation focused on the weather, a leak in the office roof, and the recent passing of one-hundred-year-old WWII veteran from Dufftown. Fiona listened and watched the two men interact, something she’d never bothered to do before. They certainly had a camaraderie that seemed a little guarded on Murray’s part. His comments were measured, and he was watchful.
She gathered the plates and then poured more coffee. “Dad, have you talked to Murray about restarting the business?”
Gavin brightened. “I haven’t. You’ve not been about much, so I guess I forgot.”
He winked at Fiona and started with his pipe. The look suggested that she busy herself with something.
“I’ll leave you to it while I wash up.” She picked up the remaining dishes and condiments, and ran some hot water in the sink.
“Some good news. All that whisky I forgot about is still good and will soon be sold and sent out. Fiona worked out an arrangement, and even got enough to pay off the creditors.”
“That is good news,” Murray said.
“I guess I need to know what you think about getting everything back up to working again.”
The question sounded harmless, but Murray’s hesitation suggested some concern. Fiona shut off the water and started the slow process of washing each item very carefully.
“Well, you know, I’d always want to help you anyway I can…but, we’re both getting on in years, and none of the lads are around to help.”
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