Chapter 4

"You can't spend another week in Knoxville, Will. You have a speaking engagement at Brandywine in Burlington on Monday morning, remember?"

"Brandywine College." Will closed his eyes momentarily, suppressing the urge to slap his forehead. "Shit, I completely forgot about those people. I'm sorry, Megan."

"I could cancel for you on short notice, but they'd want their speaking fee back."

Megan had been his publicist for the last seven years, and Will had developed the ability to gauge her level of annoyance by the subtle nuances in her phone voice. Right now, the pauses before her statements were short, so her mood was still neutral. He had almost run her off two or three times in the last few years, and the last time he'd had to resort to naked bribery in the form of a hefty raise to keep her from quitting.

He thought about Megan's proposal for a moment.

"No, that wouldn't be good. They'd blacklist me, and that won't sit well with the other schools up there. You know how networked those Ivy League places are."

On the other end of the line, Megan chuckled softly.

"Will Liebkind, concerned about his reputation on the academic circuit? What happened to you all of a sudden? Did you crash your car on the way south and suffer a head injury?"

"Give me some credit, Megan. Those speaking gigs are easy meal tickets. No point crapping into one's own pantry."

"Crassly put, but I can't dispute the point. Will you be able to make it up there in time?"

Will checked his mental calendar. The trip to Burlington would take two full days from Tennessee, slightly less if he went around D.C. and took a few liberties with the speed limit.

"Yeah, but I'll have to leave tomorrow morning at the latest. Don't worry—I'll be there, unless I wreck the BMW on the way."

"Please don't," Megan said. "You're my meal ticket, and there won't be any unemployment insurance for me if you check out."

Will laughed.

"I love when you get sentimental on me."

It was Friday morning, and Bob was still in his bathrobe, watching TV in the living room. Kate, Christa and Erica had set off on a breakfast at the IHOP with subsequent mall expedition, and Will had turned down the invitation to join them with unmitigated horror in his eyes. The day after Thanksgiving was the worst possible day to go anywhere near a shopping mall, as far as he was concerned, but the prospect of legions of fellow shoppers had excited rather than repelled the Liebkind women. That left Will alone in the house with Bob.

"Well, it looks like you'll get rid of me pretty soon after all," Will said as he walked back into the living room.

"Oh?" Bob sat up on the couch and hit the mute switch on the remote control. "How so? I thought you were going to hang out here for a bit."

"Speaking engagement in Vermont. You know, one of those college pep talk thingies?"

"I wouldn't know," Bob grinned. "They only invite respectable writers to those. Does that stuff pay well?"

"Ten grand for an hour or two of yakkedy-yak and elbow-rubbing."

Bob whistled through his teeth.

"Yeah, that's a decent hourly rate, I'd say. So when are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning is early enough. Don't count me in for dinner, though. I may have something else lined up tonight."

"Oh?" Bob raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you knew anyone else in Knoxville."

"I don't. Well, I guess I do now, sort of." He hesitated for a moment. They did not voluntarily share private matters often, but for some reason he did not feel particularly combative today.

"There's this woman who runs the bookstore near the Chinese restaurant. I think I am going to ask her to go to dinner with me tonight."

Bob flashed a surprised grin.

"So that's where you were yesterday afternoon," he said. "I figured you weren't digging through some dusty paperbacks for an hour." He tossed the remote onto the coffee table.

"Does she know who you are?"

"She does now," Will smiled. "One of her customers recognized me, and she was pretty embarrassed. We took pictures and all."

"I bet she was. Half a dozen living Americans running around with that medal, and she doesn't recognize one when he walks into her store. I bet she'll let you take her out just to get back into your good graces."

"Hey, I didn't hold it against her. How many authors do you know by sight? Besides, I'm kind of hoping that my good looks and winning personality will be enough to make her go out with me."

Bob laughed as he raised himself from the couch.

"Will, in this town you're a desirable date if you have a Bachelor's degree and all your teeth in place. For a Nobel prize winner, most women here would practically disrobe right at the bar down at Applebee's."

"She's not a local. Says she's from New Hampshire."

"Even better," Bob grinned as he gathered his robe around himself. "You know how New Englanders are about edumacation." He pronounced the last word with a deliberately thick country twang.

"You're a New Englander, too," Will said.

"Oh, yeah. They never let me forget that down here, either. They don't even consider Erica a true Southerner, despite the fact that she was born right down the road at St. Mary's Medical Center. You know what they say around here? 'If the cat had kittens in the oven, we wouldn't call them biscuits.'"

"Charming. I guess you haven't reached the right level of inbreeding yet."

"Hey, the South has its own advantages," Bob said. "I haven't shoveled snow in over a decade."

"Whatever," Will smirked. "You live in a place where the public libraries are smaller than the average Burger King. The lack of snow hardly makes up for that. Now go and take a shower before you start exposing yourself. Buy a bigger robe, will ya?"

When the sound of the running shower told Will that his brother was occupied, he pulled out his notebook and looked up the number of Claire's bookstore. Whatever she was doing, she must have been right by the phone, because she answered after the first ring.

"The Lost Savant, this is Claire."

"Hi, Claire. This is Will from yesterday, remember?"

"Oh, hi, Will. Of course I remember you." She laughed. "It's not like I have a famous writer in my store every other day. What can I do for you?"

Will closed his eyes briefly. His stomach felt like it was doing a little flip, and he chided himself almost immediately.

This is not high school, and I'm not a teenager, he thought. God, it's not like I'm asking someone out to the prom.

"Uh, I was wondering if you had any plans tonight. I'd absolutely love to have dinner with you."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and he held his breath. Then Claire let out a surprised laugh that sounded every bit as tense as he felt.

"Well... yeah. Sure. Why not? I suppose I can call it a day early today. What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know." The tense feeling in his stomach had been replaced by a sort of buoyancy. "I don't know the restaurants in this town, except the Peking Garden, and I'd really rather not do a Chinese buffet tonight."

"Oh, I'm with you on that one," Claire chuckled. "How about seafood? Do you like seafood?"

"I'm from Maine," he replied. "Of course I do. Are there any decent seafood restaurants in this town?"

"Let's see. I'm assuming you're talking fresh seafood, which rules out Red Lobster and Captain D's." She paused for a moment.

"There's Chesapeake's downtown. There's also Cajun Bay down by the road to the airport, but that's more a casual-type place. Their food is awesome, though. If you've ever wanted to try fried gator, that's the place."

"Fried gator?" Will echoed. "I've never really thought of alligator as seafood. I didn't know those were legal to hunt."

"They raise them on farms, just like chicken."

"Interesting. Well, where would you go if you came down to visit from New Hampshire, and you only had one shot at seafood in Knoxville?"

"Cajun Bay," Claire replied instantly. "Chesapeake's is very nice, but you can get stuff that's just as good at Legal Seafood or something like it up in Boston all day long. If you want something you can't get up north, you have to try Cajun Bay."

"Well, that's settled," Will said. "Cajun Bay it is. If that's okay with you, that is."

"Oh, that's fine with me."

"May I pick you up, or do you not trust me enough just yet to accept a ride in my car?"

"Oh, please," Claire laughed. "If you abduct me or something, I'm sure that Libby will be able to point the cops into your direction. I'll be closing at six today."

"I'll be there," Will said. "Looking forward to it."

"The girls want to meet us for lunch over at the mall," Bob said when he walked back into the living room, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "Are you up for it? The place is a madhouse today, but they put in for a table at Ruby Tuesday's. Forty-five minute wait."

"Sure," Will replied absent-mindedly.

"Hello? Earth to Will? We're talking the mall on the worst shopping day of the year. I thought you hated the place."

"I do," Will said. "But I have a dinner date lined up, and I have to drive back north tomorrow morning. Last chance for a family meal."

Bob gave him a quizzical look.

"I barely had to twist your arm on that one. You getting sick on me?"

"Just shut up and put some shoes on those feet," Will smiled. "Are you going in that outfit?"

Bob was wearing faded jeans and an oversized black t-shirt with a silhouette of a pole dancer on it. Underneath, it said "I SUPPORT SINGLE MOMS" in gold lettering. He looked down at his belly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure. It's just Ruby Tuesday's, you know. It's not like they have any sort of dress code."

"Whatever," Will sighed. "Just walk a few steps behind me, or in front of me, so people won't think we're associated."

When they arrived at the restaurant, the Liebkind women were already seated, nursing sodas and water. The restaurant was inside the mall, near one of the exits, and every table in the house was packed. Will and Bob squeezed through the seated crowd, took off their coats, and joined the women at the table.

"Don't even bother with the salad bar," Christa said as the men picked up their menus. "It's awesome, but it'll take you twenty minutes to get through the line."

"Well, I'm sure Bob is just shattered to hear that," Will said with a grin, and Erica chuckled into her soda cup. He winked at her and dodged the menu Bob was slow-swinging at his head.

"Salad is what food eats," Bob announced. "I did not acquire this outstanding physique by nibbling on carrots." He tossed his menu back onto the table. "Ribeye and baked potato for me, I think."

"Just so you keep in shape," Will replied, before leaning over to Erica.

"Well, he is in shape. Round is a shape," he murmured, and Erica giggled. Bob folded his arms over his chest with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah, joke all you want. In the end, one of you will be back on the road tomorrow, and the other will come and ask me for cash before the weekend is over." He looked at Kate, who observed the exchange between her sons with a smile.

"She keeps asking for something called an allowance. I told her that I am not familiar with the term. Never heard it once when we were growing up."

"Right," Kate said, and shifted her attention to Erica. "Don't you believe a word of that baloney. This one wouldn't pick up the lawnmower or bring out the trash without some payout." She rubbed her thumb and forefinger in the classical gesture for baksheesh.

"Really?" Erica said. "I never get paid for taking out the trash."

"That's because you're not a profiteering little weasel like your father here," Christa said amiably.

"You don't seem to mind my 'profiteering' too much when I hand you the checks from the publishers to deposit," Bob said with a smug expression on his face.

The waiter arrived, and they ordered their meals. Will wasn't particularly hungry, so he ordered the soup-and-sandwich deal. Bob ordered an appetizer sampler for his lunch, and Will checked the menu and flinched when he saw that the sampler contained nothing but deep-fried foods. The women ordered various salads from the menu to avoid having to battle the crowds at the salad bar.

"Will is not going to be with us for dinner, so you need to enjoy his company while it lasts," Bob announced after the waiter had refreshed everyone's drinks. "He has a date tonight."

Will was acutely aware of everyone's attention suddenly shifting towards him, and he squirmed a little in his chair.

"It's not a date, and I don't see why you need to mention it like it's a big deal."

"Well, I'd say it bloody well is," Kate said. "When's the last time you brought a girlfriend home for dinner?"

"For inspection, you mean," Will replied. "And it's not like I never date or anything. Forgive me if I don't take every woman I ask out to face the family jury."

"Well, spill the beans, Will. Who is it?" Christa prodded him with a good-natured smile. He sighed and rolled his eyes in resignation.

"Her name is Claire. She runs the little bookstore in that little strip mall with the Chinese place."

"You're going out with Claire?" Erica stared at Will with open-mouthed amazement. "From The Lost Savant?"

"Yeah, that one. I didn't know there were more bookstores in that strip mall that are run by women named Claire."

Erica turned to her mother and Kate.

"Claire is pretty. She's really nice, too, not stuck up at all. And smart," she proclaimed with finality.

"Well," Bob said, patting Will on the back. "They do say that opposites attract."

Back at the house, Will had the distinct feeling that everyone was watching his preparations for the evening with various degrees of badly concealed interest. He tried to ignore the spectators, but when he checked himself in the mirror after donning his jeans-and-sport coat setup only to spot Erica and Kate peering around the corner of the living room doorway, he threw up his hands in exasperation.

"You people are terrible. Don't you have stuff to do? Something that's more important than watching me pluck the fuzz off my sport coat?"

Erica's head disappeared in a blink, but Kate merely returned her son's irritated glare with a smile.

"Come on now. I haven't seen you get ready for a date since high school. I think it's cute."

"For the tenth time, mom—it's not a flippin' date. I'm just going out with someone to grab a bite to eat, that's all. Don't make it sound like it's such a big deal."

"You wouldn't be so defensive if it wasn't," Kate said. "Don't even try to deny it."

"Oh, whatever." Will patted himself down to make sure he had both car keys and wallet, and then turned towards the door.

"Try and be discreet if you have to come along and tail me, okay?"

When he pulled up to The Lost Savant, Claire was already locking the doors to the store. He waved at her, and she returned the wave with a smile as she pulled on the door to make sure it was locked. Then she stowed her keys in her purse and walked towards his car, Oliver on his leash trotting along with her. Will reached over to open the passenger door for her as she approached. Her outfit was right in line with his own—she wore blue jeans, loafers, and an eggshell-colored blouse underneath a knee-length navy blue wool coat. Her long dark hair was gathered into a loose braid that reached down well past her shoulder blades.

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A Bettered Life

Michael Lindgren

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