by Lincoln Cole
“Okay, I’ll call him back.”
“A baseball game?” Meghan asked. “Really? Do they still have those?”
“It’s the American pastime.”
“Yeah, in the fifties. We’ve moved on.”
“It sounded more fun than what we usually do, which is visit his clinic,” Richard said.
Meghan laughed. “That’s for sure. But, next time you want to have an outing, do me a favor and let me get the tickets. I’ll get you concert tickets, or a soccer game. You know, something fun.”
“Baseball is fun,” Richard replied.
“Yeah,” she said. “But it’s old person fun.”
“Old person fun?”
“You know, like golf,” she said. Then she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “But, you know boss, you are getting on in years…”
“That’s enough for now,” Richard interrupted, heading to his office. “If you need me for work related issues, give me a call.”
“Sure thing,” Meghan said.
Richard dropped his suitcase on the couch and sat at his desk. It was going to be a rough day, having to meet with one client and then prep for another, but it meant he would be busy. He liked to keep busy, since it made the day go faster.
After a few minutes, he heard a knock on his door. “Come in,” he said.
The door opened and Nichole peeked inside. “This a bad time?”
“No,” he said, waving her in. “Come on in.”
She strode in, confident, and set a stack of papers on his desk. “This is everything I could find so far, and I highlighted all of the important details.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to look over their books today and make sure everything is solid in accounting before we commit. I don’t want to get our firm into a bad situation.”
Nichole nodded. “Let me know if you need me to look anything else up.”
“I will,” he said. “Have you seen the intern?”
“Cody is out today,” Nichole said.
“Ah,” Richard said. Cody was Nichole’s replacement, and more like a real intern in that he was always cancelling and rarely working.
When they needed a new intern, they all got together to look through the resumes and pick the best candidate. It was actually a tremendous relief for Richard, bringing more people into the conversation. It was nice not trying to do it by himself.
“Did you need him for something in particular?” she asked.
“Nah,” Richard said. “Just busy work. Nothing important, so I’ll just wait until he’s back.”
“Okay,” she replied. She started walking to the door and reached a hand out to touch the handle, then hesitated.
“Did you need something else?” Richard asked.
She turned to face him. “Tomorrow is…” she said, biting her lip. “Tomorrow is my Mom’s birthday.”
“Oh,” Richard said, “I’m sorry.”
“I just wanted to say…a year ago I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life. I had vague ideas, but nothing concrete. And now, it’s been a year and…I think my Mom would have been proud.”
“I know she is,” Richard said.
“And I said some pretty mean things about you—”
“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Richard said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Nichole smiled. “Good because I wasn’t planning to,” she said. “Thanks.”
Richard nodded. “When do you start back up?”
“I’m enrolling this coming semester.”
“Good,” he said.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work now. I just wanted to say thanks.”
“No problem,”
Nichole nodded to him and then slipped out of his office, leaving Richard alone. He leaned back in his chair and let out a deep breath of air.
“No problem at all.”
***
Ben
Jason’s thunderous yellow car pulled to a stop in front of the quiet suburban home where Desiree lived with her parents, sister, and young child. Ben sat in the passenger seat, sweating and nervous with two dozen roses resting on his lap.
“We’re here,” Jason said, turning the car off. Ben thought to make a joke about how obvious it was they had arrived, and then changed his mind. He felt nauseous.
“We should just go,” he said “and come back later. You have to get back to the clinic to set up for tonight’s meeting anyway.”
“I’ve got plenty of time,” Jason said. “And Richard is coming tonight to help, so it won’t take a lot of time.”
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“Ben…”
“I mean, what am I supposed to say? What if she doesn’t answer the door? What if…?”
“Ben,” Jason said, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Take a deep breath, and relax.”
Ben let out a shuddering breath and nodded. “Okay. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Ben said. “I’m sure.”
“You look fine, Ben.”
“Do I?” Ben asked, shifting and looking down at the suit he was wearing. It was navy blue, almost black. “You don’t think this is too much?”
“Richard picked it out, didn’t he?”
Ben nodded. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”
“A little,” Jason said, laughing, “but it’ll be fine.”
“And the flowers,” he said, holding them up. “I feel like an asshole with flowers. Like ‘hey, I screwed everything up and abandoned you when you needed me most but I got these for you.’”
“Then don’t take the flowers.”
“But I should bring something, right? I mean, I need to have something to give her…like a positive gesture.”
“Then take the flowers.”
“But what if she thinks the flowers mean I’m trying to get back with her and that I think this is enough of an apology? I mean I know she will probably never take me back and if—”
“Ben,” Jason interrupted gently. “Just take the flowers.”
Ben blew out a deep breath. “Okay.”
He looked over at the house they were parked in front of, feeling lightheaded. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You’ve come this far,” Jason said. “Seven months sober, you’ve got a job, and you’re getting your life together.”
“What if she slams the door in my face?”
“Then you tried,” Jason said. “All you can do is try.”
Ben rubbed his sweaty palms against the expensive suit. Richard had purchased it a few months ago for Ben to use at a job interview to become a line cook. He’d been the best dressed person interviewing, and it made him feel good. It made him stick out and feel important, something he wasn’t used to.
Right now, though, it made him feel out of place. It was either too much for what he was about to do, or not enough. He wasn’t sure.
“Do you think it’s too soon?” he asked. “The baby will only be a few months old. Maybe I should give her some more time.”
“Do you think it’s too soon?” Jason asked.
Ben hesitated. “I want to know the baby’s name. I want to know what she looks like, whether she got my nose or her mother’s eyes. I want to know that she’s okay and safe and that…that I’m her father.”
“You think it’ll be a girl?”
Ben shrugged. “I hope so. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
“Then go meet your daughter,” Jason said. “Or your son. We can sit here all day, or we can go home and think about when the right time is. But the truth of the matter, Ben, is that the right time is when you make it.”
Ben was silent for a moment longer, and then he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I can do this.”
“I’ll be here if you need me.”
Ben opened the door and got out of the ugly yellow car, smoothing out his suit and walking toward the house.
“Just say ‘hi’,” he mumbled under his breath. “Ask how s
he’s been doing and tell her you’re sorry and you want to make things right and be there for your child in any way she wants you to and you’ve been getting your life together and…”
He trailed off, standing in front of the door, the thick sheet of beige wood separating the life he had from the one he wanted.
“…and tell her you love her.”
Gently, Ben reached up and knocked on the door.
Thank you for reading!
Lincoln Cole
About the Author
Lincoln Cole is a Columbus based author who enjoys traveling and has visited many different parts of the world, including Australia and Cambodia, but always returns home to his pugamonster puppy, Luther, and family. His love for writing was kindled at an early age through the works of Isaac Asimov and Stephen King and he enjoys telling stories to anyone who will listen.
One Last Thing
Thanks for reading! If you would like to reach out to me about anything, you can contact me directly at:
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Thanks so much!
-Lincoln Cole
