Denny
“But it’s been twenty-five years, Denny,” his mother said, her voice filled with tears. “Are you sure you can’t come home for the weekend?”
They would never understand. “I’m sorry, mom. I have so many things up in the air right now, I just can’t leave.”
She inhaled loud enough for him to hear, her voice taking on a whole different tone, as she spat out, “It’s like you don’t even care! It’s like you’ve forgotten your brother!”
He didn’t have anything to say to that, so he listened to her fluctuate from grief to anger and back for another few minutes before finally saying goodbye.
“Everything okay, boss?” his assistant, Melody—he’d laughed when she’d introduced herself at the interview years ago—peered in. She’d knocked, he realized
“Not really, but thanks for asking.” He smiled at her tiredly, brushing his hand over his mouth. “What’s up?”
“I have the contracts here you wanted to look at before we call the artists?”
“Right, thank you.” He took the file from her and did his best not to ask for a favor.
She’d worked for him for five years she knew him better than that. “I’ll bring you a coffee. Just this once.” She grinned as she left the office.
When he’d hired Melody, it had been because she was strictly professional and knew her own value. Sure, they’d become friends, but she still wouldn’t demean herself with coffee runs. That was the intern’s job, she’d always said. It just happened to be that their intern was on another errand right then.
Denny had checked the contracts by the time Melody returned. She placed the mug of coffee on the desk and took the folder back.
“Thank you,” they said at the same time, then chuckled, and she shook her head as she walked out once more.
Denny sipped at his coffee and turned his chair so that he could stare at the view.
Chicago didn’t look like much, mostly because his view wasn’t extraordinary in any way. But it was still nice enough. Sighing, he grabbed his phone off the desk and texted his wife.
Will you be home for dinner?
He didn’t expect an answer. Either she would or wouldn’t. He didn’t need to make a private detective follow her to know she was cheating. Hell, she’d all but admitted it.
All Denny wanted from life was to know that this was it. That he could finally rest, not having to feel as if something was missing or always wonder if he was giving his spouse enough. He still thought he’d given his wives more than most men who worked the hours he did.
He just….
I’ll get something from the Grill. We need to talk.
And there it was. Another marriage down the drain while he tried his best to… he wasn’t sure. Soldier on?
Once, he’d had this picture in his head of growing old with a woman who loved him. There’d be a couple of kids and a handful of grandkids, and he could retire early and they’d be… happy.
He was in his early forties now, far from retirement, early or not, and in a few months, he’d be single once more.
His phone buzzed in his hand again. This time, it was his dad. They never spoke on the phone, his dad hated modern technology and didn’t want to dial a“long ass number for your mobile phone”from the house phone. This was a text. Because of course they’d made the old man get a cell for safety reasons.
I know yor mother dsnt get it. She never had siblngs. Ill take her to church. Itll be fin.
Dad had lost two of his brothers in Vietnam. Sometimes Denny forgot that. Feeling a little bit lighter, he finished his coffee and got everything done so he’d be home on time.
Denny parked his car at the curb in front of the two-story brick house he owned in the Old Town. He’d originally bought it after his second marriage had failed and had never thought of it being a family home. Then he’d met Kristin and she’d loved the house from the first time she’d visited.
The lights were on, so she was already home. He knew the fact that she’d gotten food from his favorite steak house wasn’t meant to be the peace offering it might’ve looked like.
He unlocked the door and left his coat and shoes next to it. He hated to wear shoes indoors and never liked to do it at home. He dropped his keys and wallet on the antique table Kristin so loved in the foyer.
He almost called out “honey,” but at the last moment changed it into “Kristin?”
