Turning Point

by Flavio Olcese

Chapter 2

  It was early Saturday morning when I arrived at Anne’s house with a couple of bags of groceries. I let myself in with my key and made sure I closed the front door loud enough for anyone to know I had arrived.

  “Jake, is that you?” called out Anne from upstairs.

  “Yes, I’ll be in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Any requests?”

  “Oh, french toast,” said Christine as she came bounding down the stairs. I leaned down and she gave me a hug and a kiss. “Mornin’ Uncle Jake. Do you have a new girlfriend?”

  “What? No, I don’t have a girlfriend. What kind of question is that?”

  “Mom said that you get a new girlfriend every week,” she said as she sat on one of the kitchen stools at the breakfast nook.

  “Chrissy, let me tell you something about your mom. She’s just jealous that I can get a date and she can’t.”

  “I’m not jealous,” said Anne as she walked into the kitchen. She came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “How are you, Jake?”

  “I’m good. And speaking about girlfriends mine broke up with me because she thought I was cheating on her. She said that it was odd that I went away every other weekend and she finally figured out that there was no way I could have a ten year old niece if I had no brothers and sisters.”

  “That’s what you get for dating rocket scientists.”

  I spent the next half hour making breakfast while Anne caught me up on what was going on in her life. While we ate Christine had her shot at telling me about school and what she was up to. I just sat and took it all in. There was really not much to tell about me. There was work all week and partying on weekends.

  For the last three years since my brother had died I had spent every other weekend with Anne and Christine up in the suburbs. I usually arrived on Saturday morning but would occasionally come on Friday if I could escape from work before seven. I always left on Sunday to go back to my apartment in the city.

  Anne and I got along fabulously. Every once in a while we would talk finances but she never asked me for anything. Still every time I came I would fill her refrigerator and cupboard. I knew she could really use the extra money she saved on not having to buy groceries for a week or more.

  It was also customary for me to cook dinner on Saturday night. Every once in a while Anne invited one of her friends or neighbors to our Saturday dinners. Cooking for two or six was all the same to me. Anyway most of the people she invited were either single or divorced females so I didn’t mind one bit. This particular Saturday she had invited a couple of her coworkers and her boss, all single females.

  “Jake, what are you making tonight? I want to make sure I get the right wine.”

  “I have a new recipe I tried out last week and it’s really good. It’s a vegetarian main dish with a whole bunch of great side dishes. Don’t worry about the wine. I’ll get it when we go out to buy the groceries.”

  That afternoon Anne drove me and Christine to the supermarket. The trip was very routine. Everybody knew their place. It was one of the few things in my life that was the same way every time I did it. After we got our cart Anne and I would start at the fresh fruit and vegetable section and walk down every isle until we got to the other end of the store. Chrissy was sent on missions to get us specific items, even though we would pass those isles anyway. We usually sent her to the other side of the store. This gave me and Anne some time to talk alone.

  “Jake, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but do you know how much money you gave me and Chrissy last year?”

  “I don’t keep track of those things. I have no idea.”

  “Well, it was a lot. It really helps and I want to thank you but at the same time I don’t want you to not live your own life. I’m sure I can make it work with my salary and the investments.”

  “My life is simple, Anne. I get most of what I need at work. Five days a week I eat all my meals there and the company pays for it. On the weekends I go out and have a couple of drinks. I don’t have cable because I don’t have time to watch TV. My gas, water and electric bills are tiny because I’m never home, and my cell phone is paid by the company. Plus I get paid boatloads, certainly a lot more than I can use. Look, you know what Paul told me before he passed away, that I should take care of Christine like she was my own daughter. I have no idea how to do that, but you do. So I take care of you and you take care of Chrissy. Everyone’s happy.”

  She wrapped her arm around mine and leaned on me while I pushed the cart around. I loved when she did that. She was truly one of the finest women I knew, in every respect.

  That night Anne sent her daughter to sleep over at one of her friend’s houses. That would leave the adults alone to eat, laugh and stay up late. In the early evening I got changed into my black pants and black shirt, put on my apron and starting getting the food ready for cooking.

  At six our three guests had arrived. Anne entertained them in the living room as I brought out some appetizers. Eventually the four women moved into the kitchen and sat at the table as they watched me move through the kitchen. I had some Vivaldi playing on the stereo as I finished putting the main dish in the oven and quickly started on the side dishes.

  “So Jake, what is it that you do aside from cooking?” asked Marie, Anne’s boss.

  “You mean for work? I’m a senior VP at Waltman & Goode Worldwide.”

  “Being a vice president at such a large company at your age is impressive but they have over half a dozen senior VPs don’t they? You know if you ever want to try something a bit more intimate and more focused, give me a call,” said Marie.

  She was right. We had five senior vice presidents in our New York office alone, two in Chicago and two in Los Angeles. And then there were the international VPs. The competition was fierce to move ahead. We were all cordial to each other face to face but back stabbing was not uncommon.

  “Jake does everything. He cleans, cooks, babysits. You name it he can probably do it,” added Anne.

  “Where did you learn to cook?” asked Marie, one of the coworkers.

  “My mom taught me the basics. She said that everyone who cooks has a type of food and one or two dishes which they excel at. So she encouraged me to find and try out new dishes. One Wednesdays or Thursdays evenings, depending on my schedule, I try out some new dish. Tonight’s dish I just tried this past week and it turned out pretty good so I thought I would share it.”

  “What’s your specialty dish?” asked Marie.

  “It’s a secret. I hardly ever make it and only under very special occasions. A guy has to have his secrets.”

  The conversation continued through the rest of my cooking until I finally asked the women to go to the dining room table so we could eat. I brought the salad, side dishes and main course out together. I also opened a second bottle of wine and refilled everyone’s glass. It seemed that most of the conversation during dinner was about me. “So you’re the all around guy and you’re still single?” asked Carla.

  “I work fifteen hours a day, minimum. That kind of schedule is just not the kind that leads to lasting relationships. I just don’t have the time to offer a woman my whole attention.”

  I looked at the women before me, all pretty young women in their late twenties to mid thirties, who knew what they wanted and how to get it. All of them, except Anne, saw me as a conquest. Unfortunately for them none had a chance to get me. I was a career minded individual and I couldn’t really see anything changing that, ever.

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