Journey to Her Dreams

by Iris Blobel

  ****

  A few weeks later, Jared sat across the table from Mark, chugging down a bottle of water. As usual, he'd easily beat his friend at another game of squash.

  "After all these years ya still playin' like a girl," he said.

  Mark flipped him the finger and didn't bother to reply.

  "Trouble at home?"

  "Nope, but having a house full of women is exhausting. Hope wakes up before dawn every morning and is cranky in the afternoon. Mia doesn't want to come out of bed at all. Not to mention the extra person I've got to feed."

  "Josh?" Jared asked with a grin.

  "Teenage love. I've begged Sophie to have the talk with Mia, but she merely laughed and replied I'm way too late."

  Jared nearly spilled his drink. "Too late?"

  Mark shrugged. "I'm too scared to ask."

  "Didn't Soph drive ya insane because she wanted to wait till after the wedding?"

  Nodding, Mark grabbed his gear and stood. "Don't remind me. It's my hope that she's instilled that attitude into Mia as well."

  Jared stood as well and followed his friend into the male changing rooms. They took their showers and left the squash centre half an hour later.

  Once they got to their cars, Jared said, "I'm heading over to the USA in two weeks." And, as he threw his bag into his old Jeep, he added, "Booked the trip a few weeks back."

  Mark turned and stared at him. "You did what?"

  "Booked a holiday. Time for this ol' man to forget about work and live some. Isn't that what ya always tell me?"

  His friend's astonishment was obvious from his moment of speechlessness.

  Laughing, Jared clapped Mark on the shoulder. "Close ya mouth or the flies will call it a home."

  Mark did, but then said, "The USA?"

  Jared nodded.

  "How long?"

  "A bit over four weeks."

  Mark's eyebrows shot up. "Four weeks. Who's looking after the business?"

  If Jared had known he'd be bombarded with all these questions, he'd have dropped the news a bit earlier in the comfort of the Sport Centre's Café. "Graham, and you'll help him with the books."

  His buddy raked his hand through his hair.

  "Ya owe me, O.C."

  He'd called Mark O.C. as long as he could remember. It was the initials of Mark’s surname O'Connor. Jared wasn't sure why he'd taken to O.C., but it had stuck since their childhood.

  Mark's eyes narrowed. "Owe you what?"

  "To help out."

  Shaking his head as if he wanted to get rid of a fly, Mark finally said, "No worries about the books. I'll help. I just don't understand why all of a sudden."

  He shrugged. "Do I need a reason? I've got the money. I've worked hard enough." And, after a moment's pause, he continued, "Are ya trying to make me feel guilty?"

  Heaving a big sigh, Mark shook his head. "Nope. Not at all. It's just a bit of a surprise." Grabbing his own car keys, he said, "Come on over for dinner on Saturday and we'll go through details."

  "No worries mate. I look forward to it."