“Your grandfather didn’t tell you?”
“My grandfather doesn’t tell me anything.”
“I called and spoke with him yesterday for a while. On your phone.”
“I leave it inside so if he needs to use it, he can.”
“Well, he did. We were talking about the virus, the delay in the flu shot program, and we got to discussing other stuff. He wanted to know what I was planning on doing next, and I told him I didn’t know — that I didn’t have any immediate ideas.”
“What about your job?”
“I quit. It wasn’t working. I don’t want to be a corporate cog, no matter how well paid.”
“So the question still stands. What are you doing here?” she asked again.
“Why is it that every time we meet, you’re pointing a gun at me?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” she said, waiting for an answer.
Sam’s voice boomed from the entryway. “Jeffrey! You’re here. Come up to the house. Kaycee. You know Jeffrey. You don’t need the shotgun.”
“We were just discussing that,” Jeffrey said with a small smile.
Kaycee sheepishly realized that she was still pointing the gun at Jeffrey. She lowered the weapon and held it easily at her side. “What’s this all about, Grandpa?”
“Jeffrey here is going to be staying for a little bit. That’s all. Nothing to worry about,” Sam explained, and then turned to go back inside before calling over his shoulder. “Kaycee, go unlock the gate so he can pull his car in. It’ll be dusk soon, and I’m sure he’s tired after being on the road.”
She studied Jeffrey’s face for any clues, then shook her head. “I’ve got to get the gate key. I’ll meet you down there. I’m sure there’s a story behind this.”
“It’s pretty simple. You have to go back to New York soon. Your grandfather isn’t really in any condition to be here alone, at least not until he’s fully recovered. And I’m going through a mid-life crisis before I hit thirty. It just seemed like I could use some time out in the woods to figure things out, you know? Pull a Walden. Get away from it all while I decide what I want to be when I grow up. Your grandfather mentioned that he had a spare bedroom that wasn’t being used, and that he could use someone to play chess with that he can beat — apparently he’s bitter that you’re better than him. So anyway, he offered, I accepted, and here I am.”
“Just like that.”
“Yup.”
“I’ll get the key, then,” she said, then spun and returned to the house, Jeffrey’s admiring gaze following her she made her way up the stairs. He grinned as he exhaled, then moved back down the drive to the waiting car, a new page turned in the adventure that had become his life; no firm plans, only a heavy fatigue that felt older than his tender years, like he’d been endlessly pushing a boulder up a hill.
A blue jay fluttered overhead with a squawk, and Jeffrey looked up, his eyes shielded from the fading glare, watching as the bird soared and then rode a gust of wind to the far side of the field, intent on some fleeting objective. The car sat like a lonely vagrant, dejected at the side of the road, and he decided that it was the perfect vehicle for him, accurately capturing his mood and sense of… apathy.
Then he heard footsteps trotting down the drive behind him, and felt a lightness in his chest at the thought of Kaycee coming to open the gate, admitting him into her home and her family’s life. For the first time in years he had no sense of direction, no real purpose, and he decided that while it would take some getting used to, it felt positive, if alien.
For now, he’d take it one day at a time.
Which was, in the end, the only way he could.
FORTY-SEVEN
Happily Ever After
The sun was baking the work area, summer now rapidly approaching, the trees in full leaf, not a cloud in the sky. Jeffrey had settled into a familiar routine after three months, running errands in the morning, sitting with the professor in the afternoons, playing chess and discussing the wicked ways of the world. Sam had mended and was as strong as could be expected, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about Jeffrey moving on, and neither had Jeffrey. Sam seemed to enjoy the younger man’s company, and Jeffrey found him a fascinating and erudite companion — a treasure trove of encyclopedic arcania.
True to her word, Jodie had sold the condo in no time, and after paying her commission Jeffrey had wound up with two hundred fifty thousand dollars in his pocket. The estate had settled and he’d liquidated his brother’s portfolio, so he now had a tidy half million dollar war chest to tide him over until he figured out what he wanted to do. That part of his sabbatical from the real world had been tougher than he’d thought it would be, and it had only been lately that an idea had begun to gel for his life moving forward.
Living at the house had been an adjustment at first, with no internet or television. Jeffrey had finally convinced Sam to get a phone, and had only shamed him into it by offering to pay for it himself. His offers of rent had been rebuked by the old man, who merely grunted and waved him away when discussions of anything resembling finances came up.
“I never paid much attention to money when I was younger, and I’m not about to start worrying about it now,” was Sam’s usual response, and Jeffrey had eventually learned not to bother him with it, choosing instead to buy the week’s groceries and consistently forget to take the money that rested, like a green stain, on the dining room table. Sam had given up insisting, and they’d reached an uneasy truce, preferring to spend their time in more productive pursuits than bickering over a few dollars.
Besides chess, both men enjoyed a glass of good Scotch in the evenings, and without distractions like computers or TV, they whiled away the hours after dark arguing or trading stories. Sam had learned the hard way about Jeffrey’s remarkable memory, and they spent long nights discussing the ramifications of a society that was out of control, where special interests and powerful elites could bring the world as close to the brink as it had so recently been. The fatalistic conclusion they arrived at, time after time, was that they as a species were largely powerless to do anything about it, and that they were on as disastrous a course as if a huge meteor was hurtling toward the Earth — that the inevitable was a matter of timing, not of outcome.
In spite of the depressing talk, Sam was upbeat since he’d learned the truth about his conspiracy suspicions, and the vindication of having been right breathed new life into him, if not new purpose. Jeffrey had even coaxed him into moderate exercise, which he’d eschewed for years before the accident.
Jeffrey was outside, swinging an axe, splitting wood for the fireplace, sweat rolling down his tanned, bare chest, the muscles in his arms now more defined than ever before, the outdoor life agreeing with him. He heard gravel crunching beneath tires down around the bend, and he paused, ears straining for any further signs of visitors. A muffled car door closed, and he moved over to the side of the garage and retrieved the shotgun. Sam insisted that he take it with him whenever he was outside, and Jeffrey had seen enough of the world to take his warning seriously. There probably was no danger any longer, but it was better to be safe…
Kaycee moved into view, her long legs making short work of the track, her thicket of blond locks shimmering like a halo. Jeffrey drew a sharp intake of breath at the sight of her — she’d visited on a few weekends, but it had been a month since her last trip and her sudden appearance took him by surprise. He was constantly unbalanced by the powerful reaction she caused in him, and he always felt self-conscious around her, even though he did his best not to show it. Suddenly aware of his bare chest, he untied the flannel shirt from around his waist and pulled it on as she drew near.