Zach furrowed his brow. Had there been a theme to his recent adages?
He scrolled through the last few in his mind.
Yeah, there had—and he knew who to blame for his rare thematic tangent.
The mystery woman.
She hadn’t come back to the coffee shop again, but since her visit six days ago she’d been on his mind. As had Charley’s comments about her mental state.
Apparently his subconscious had been selecting sayings that would boost her spirits if she happened to drop in—or pass by.
He plucked a marker from the box behind the counter. “I didn’t realize I’d fallen into a rut.”
“I wouldn’t call it a rut. Feels more like you’re trying to cheer yourself—or someone else—up. Everything okay?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“Glad to hear it.” Frank picked up the mop. “Personally, I think funny sayings catch people’s eye too. Like the one you used last week about coffee helping you stay grounded. Clever.”
“Message received. I’ll go with humor tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan. It’s never a bad idea to mix things up—but there’s nothing wrong with the sayings you’ve been using either. Maybe they lifted someone’s spirits.”
Frank disappeared into the back room, and Zach considered the blank board, tapping the marker against his palm.
Seconds later, inspiration struck and he penned tomorrow’s message.
If pro is the opposite of con, what’s the opposite of progress?
As he finished, Frank rejoined him and inspected his handiwork. Chuckled. “Clever. Political sarcasm always gets a laugh.”
“I’m half serious.” Zach set the board on the floor.
“I hear you.”
“Sometimes I wonder if those folks in Washington live in the same—” His cell began to vibrate, and he pulled it out. Skimmed the name on the screen.
Uh-oh.
There was only one reason he could think of for Aunt Stephanie to contact him—and it wasn’t good.
“I have to take this, Frank.”
“Go ahead. I want to get an order of Charley’s tacos for lunch—unless his muse called and he went off to paint. See you Thursday.”
As Frank let himself out, Zach braced for bad news and answered the call.
“Take a deep breath, Zach. No one died and there’s no medical emergency.”
At his aunt’s wry greeting, he exhaled. “You about gave me a heart attack, you know.”
“That’s why I ditched the social niceties and got straight to the point. I knew you’d panic when my name popped up—and I take full blame for that. If I called more often, as any proper aunt would do, you’d be less inclined to jump to wrong conclusions when you hear from me.”
“How long has it been?” Pulse moderating, he dropped into a chair at the closest table. Near as he could remember, other than birthday and Christmas cards, he hadn’t heard from his paternal aunt in three or four years.
“Too long. I called you a few years back during a brief stopover in Chicago, but you were away on a business trip.”
“I was always away on business trips in those days.”
“I can relate.”
“I bet.” Thanks to her executive-level position with one of the world’s largest accounting firms—and a client roster that spanned the globe—her greeting cards often came with exotic postmarks. Why she kept the small but pricey New York apartment she rarely occupied was a puzzle. “So how are you?”
“Fine—and I have news. My firm is offering an early retirement package to anyone sixty or older with more than twenty years’ service. I qualify on both counts—barely on the first one, since I turned the big six-o a mere two months ago, but I hit the tenure minimum long ago. The deal was too lucrative to pass up.”
“You’re retiring?” He stared at the empty pastry case, trying to process her bombshell. Like his father, Aunt Stephanie had devoted her life to her job. She had no husband, no children, and no hobbies he was aware of. What would she do without work to fill her days?
“Wrong tense. It’s a done deal. And that brings me to the other purpose of my call. You and your father are all the family I have, and I’ve neglected you both shamefully. Not that your father minded, of course. He’s more of a workaholic than I was.”
No kidding. The fast track was the only track as far as Richard Garrett was concerned—which was no doubt why he’d been the youngest man ever to reach partner status in the law firm he now headed.
“That description fits Dad.” A sardonic note slipped into his voice.
If his aunt noticed it, she didn’t comment. “I know he’s busy, but I’d like to launch my new life by reconnecting with you both. I spoke with him earlier. He’s in the middle of a big case, but he invited me to visit for a long weekend. I’m flying down to Atlanta Friday.”
“I’m sure Dad will be happy to see you.”
“I’m sure he will be too—once he gets over the shock about my news and reassures himself I haven’t lost my mind. I think he assumed I’d work till I dropped.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me. I imagine that’s what he plans to do.” Zach smashed a stray crumb against the tabletop with his finger.
“I do too—and I intend to have a heart-to-heart with him about that very subject.”
“Don’t expect him to be receptive.” Unless pigs had started to fly.
“You never know. Coming from me, it may have more impact. We’ve always been like-minded on the subject of work.”
“There’s more to life than work.”
“I agree. I always have. But after a while, you get caught up in the climb-the-ladder game, and everything but work falls by the wayside.”
“I thought you loved your job.”
“I did—and I don’t have a single regret. However . . . given the opportunity to bail without putting my future security at risk, I grabbed it. It’s time for the next chapter in my life to begin. I want to see what I’ve been missing and put more energy into bolstering family connections.”
He stood, crossed to the fireplace, and extinguished the logs. “I assume that means Hope Harbor is on your travel agenda in the near future.”
“It is. I want to hear all about the new direction your life has taken. Unless a visit from me would be too much of an inconvenience.”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
“Wonderful. Can you recommend a local inn or B&B?”
“I have a spare room at my place that’s yours if you want it. I can’t offer the luxurious five-star accommodations you’re accustomed to from your business travels, but my modest digs do have a world-class view.”
“Trust me, after working fourteen-hour days during those trips, a high-end hotel room was nothing more than a place to fall into bed at night. The luxury was lost on me.”
“I hear you.”
“I do recall a beautiful hotel in Paris, though, where I stayed on my last birthday. I spent the whole day in a windowless meeting room and ordered a late room service dinner. The view of the Eiffel Tower from my window while I ate was my sole chance to enjoy the City of Lights.” A beat passed. “Eating alone had never bothered me, but that night . . . I felt lonely. So staying with you, sharing a few meals, will be a treat.”