“Where to begin?” the lawman responds, a wry grin on his face. “Well, I suppose it all starts with a shortcut. Hard to pass up a good shortcut, ain’t it? Damn near impossible…”
FORTY-ONE
Phil’s concerns had been justified. Despite their sudden celebrity, his office had moved on without him, and there was nothing left to return to in Roseburg.
Wendy had been fortunate to keep her job, but the promotion went to one of her colleagues.
“Cindy deserved it,” she said, clearly frustrated. “She’ll do a great job.”
Phil sent out resumes. He posted his materials online.
He waited for the phone to ring.
And when it finally did, it wasn’t exactly what he had expected.
“Is Phillip Benson available?” the woman said.
“Speaking.”
“Mr. Benson, my name is Genevieve Nicholls. I am the regional production manager for Levi Strauss and Company. Do you have a moment to discuss an exciting career opportunity that has become available in our Southern California territory?”
Phil had to bite his lip to keep from bursting into laughter. “Sure, I can talk…”
~0~
The move went smoothly. The girls made a healthy transition into their new school in Newport Beach. Wendy was enjoying her work as an executive with the network that produced Bo’s show, and Phil found that he had a knack for working in textiles.
On another cloudless California afternoon in the early fall, Wendy got a text message and excused herself from her meeting.
“It’s happening!” she squealed from the parking lot. “Pick up the girls, Phil. I’ll meet you all at the hospital.”
“Sounds good. See you there.”
Kelli had been in labor for almost twenty-four hours. It was all they could do to wait on the newest addition to the Benson family.
Bo finally retrieved the little box from the back of his underwear drawer, and Kelli had agreed to marry him.
Now, there would be a son.
By the time Phil and the girls arrived at Hoag Presbyterian, Kelli had given birth to a healthy baby boy—Ryan James Benson.
She was flushed and euphoric, simultaneously exhausted and invigorated by the act of childbirth. The baby, wrapped in blankets, stared at his mother peacefully from his perch on her chest.
Quiet and contemplative, his tiny fingers stretched toward the air, closing and grasping at his mother.
“May I?” Bo said, his heart hammering in his chest. He recognized something in the boy, an uncanny familiarity in his face.
“Of course,” Kelli said, extending the child. Phil held him to his chest, a grin slowly spreading as he studied his new nephew.
“Get a look at those eyes,” Bo said, the pride in his tone unmistakable. “Have you ever seen such a deep shade of blue?”
“Blue?” Kelli said, “I could swear that when the light catches them, they’re as green as emeralds.”
“You’re both right,” Phil said, planting a kiss on the boy’s temple. “You know, I actually think you’re both right.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Daniel teaches a variety of writing courses at Florida State College at Jacksonville. His short stories and critical essays have appeared in World Literature Today, Redstone Science Fiction, Leading Edge, Something Wicked Magazine, and Weber: The Contemporary West. He is pursuing a doctoral degree in digital media studies at the University of Central Florida.
He lives with his wife and daughter near the Timucuan Preserve, where he enjoys running the preserve’s haunted wilderness trails and angling for redfish and flounder in the Round Marsh.
Other works include the post-apocalyptic novel The Reset and the collection of novellas Maximum Dark: Four Tales of Suspense. His third collection of speculative short stories, In the Walls and Other Stories, will be released in the summer of 2015.
To contact Daniel, or stay up to date on future releases, visit his Web journal, The Byproduct.
Cold on the Mountain Page 26