Chapter 13: The Waiting Game

"Dad, you may get a visit or a call from a fellow named Mike Wilson. He's an old friend of mine from Coddington. His mother inherited some property out on Old Farm Road and he's here to have a look at it. In the meantime, he's also looking for a small business that he might buy. He wanted to talk to someone who knew the area so he asked permission to talk to you."

Tom Reichart gave his daughter a curious look before answering. "Sure ... I guess so. If I can't help him, maybe I can steer him in the right direction."

"Mike was working for a big company in Boston but quit when he found it wasn't for him. He likes the smaller town environment so he thought he'd look around here."

"And you know him from college?"

"Yes."

"Boyfriend?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Brenda nodded. "My first ... at Coddington. He went on to Harvard for his MBA after my first year."

Her father nodded with a faint smile. "I'll see what I can do to help."

"Thanks, Dad."

Brenda thought it strange that she wasn't embarrassed admitting that Mike was her boyfriend and that he was her first.

"Hi, Brenda, it's Mike," came the once again familiar voice.

"Hi, Mike. Back in town?"

"Yeah. Just unpacking my clothes. I flew into Louisville this time. A non-stop and much less hassle at the airport. I rented a car and drove up here. It took less than an hour. It used to take me that long to get from the airport in Boston to my apartment. I like this better already."

She could hear the smile in his voice. It was contagious. She found herself smiling as well.

"Why don't you come over for dinner?" Brenda suggested, surprising herself at her impulsiveness. "It will save you from another restaurant meal."

"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

"Not at all. It's always nice to have an adult to talk to in the evening. Please come. Five o'clock if that's not too early."

"No ... no ... five is fine. I'll look forward to it. Thanks, Brenda."

He was right on time. He had a thing about time, she remembered. He attached promptness to courtesy. Part of it was his upbringing and part was his military training.

"Come in," she welcomed him.

She saw him more clearly this time. She took in his body, not looking an ounce more than she recalled from her college days. Once shed of his winter jacket, he looked trim in his cotton pullover and khaki slacks. He wasn't just fit, he was almost sculpted. Not in a body-builder way. More like someone in a men's clothing commercial. Not plastic-perfect but undeniably handsome and attractive. If anything, even more so than ten years ago.

"Thanks," he said, offering a bottle of wine and some flowers.

"Oh, Mike. You didn't have to do this. But thank you. The flowers are lovely and I'm sure the wine will be too."

"Thank you for inviting me. It's a nice break from eating by myself. And, it's home cooking as well."

He followed her to the kitchen while she prepared the flowers for a vase and then put them on the dining room table.

It was awkward for both of them. Not really knowing how to start a conversation. At length, Brenda asked about his trip to his home town.

"Well, like I said, I come from a small town too. It's called Potters Mill. It's in New Jersey. Nice little town. These days it's mostly rich people who live there and commute to New York. My father is the rector at the Episcopal Church. I haven't seen my parents in some time so I wanted to visit them when I was in the area.

"My main reason for going was to attend a hearing on one of the relatives who were contesting the will that left us the property here in Fairmount. I needn't have bothered. It took less than an hour and the action was dismissed. So, once again I'm back and hoping to get some idea of what the property is like and what we might do with it. Luckily, the snow is gone so I should be able to have a good look tomorrow."

"Dad said you called but you put off talking to him until you returned. I think he's curious about what you have in mind."

"I am too, to be honest. I'm not sure about what I might do except I'd like to find a business that interests me and has some potential."

"You must have some idea of what you'd like to do," she said, challenging him.

"I'm kind of leaning toward building supplies ... construction or something along those lines. I got some experience with construction on summer jobs and I liked it."

Brenda thought for a moment before continuing.

"There's a lumber yard that closed a couple of years ago on the other side of town. They couldn't compete with the big stores and their business just sort of petered out."

She could see the immediate interest in Mike's expression.

"That might be interesting. I'll go have a look and talk to your father about it."

"Where are you going to stay if you're going to be in town for a while?"

"I'm okay with the B & B for now. I can get a week-to-week rate or even a monthly rate if I'm going to be around that long."

"I hope you are," Brenda said, wondering what prompted her spontaneous comment.

Mike smiled and nodded.

"I'd like to find a reason to be here, so let's hope I can find one."

It was a remark that wasn't lost on her. She scrambled to get back on comfortable terms.

"You haven't met the children yet. I'll go get them."

Mike stood when Brenda beat a hasty retreat to the back of the house. He liked children, even though he had none of his own. His nieces and nephews and various cousins had exposed him to all sorts of youngsters and he enjoyed their company whenever they were around.

Brenda returned with her two in tow. Mike could see immediately that Marietta took after her mother in coloring and he guessed she was going to be another lovely version of her in a few years. Young Pete was a sturdily built four-year-old with a mop of brown hair and an open, trusting face. He was carrying a truck in his hand as they walked toward him.

"Marietta, Petey, say hello to Mr. Wilson," Brenda said in a quiet voice.

"Hello, Mr. Wilson," they said in somewhat ragged harmony.

"Hello, Marietta. Hello, Petey. Nice to meet you. I see you have a truck, Petey."

"It's my best truck. It fixes the broken ones," he said earnestly.

"Yes ... it's a tow truck. That's really nice. And what do you like to do, Marietta?" he asked.

"I'm coloring in my coloring book. I can stay inside the lines now."

"Good for you," Mike smiled.

"Do you have a little boy?" Petey asked.

"No. I don't have any children. But I have lots of little nieces and nephews and cousins."

"What are nieces and those other things?" he asked.

"Well, my two sisters have children so the boy children are called nephews and the girl children are called nieces," he explained.

"Oh," the youngster said, deciding he'd heard enough. "Can I go play now, Mom?"

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes so don't forget to wash your hands. You too, Marietta."

"Okay. Bye Mr. Wilson," she said, running back to the room she had been in.

"They're great kids, Brenda. You must be very proud of them."

"I am. They've helped keep me sane but they can be a handful. With both of them in school I get a few hours to myself now."

The children didn't realize Mike would be staying for dinner and were surprised to see him sitting at the table when their mother called them. Only their grandparents or if Uncle Chuck or Aunt Teresa showed up would anyone other than the three of them have dinner together.

After dinner and when the dishes were loaded in the dishwasher, the children went back to their rooms and Mike and Brenda returned to the great room to sit and enjoy a coffee.

"This house is really something, Brenda. It's so inviting and comfortable and yet very modern. You would never know looking at the outside. It looks so traditional from there."

"That was all part of the plan. We didn't want a house with a lot of rooms that were more like compartments. But ... we wanted the outside to fit in with the community and the surroundings. This was the perfect combination."

"I envy you. It is perfect. I've had my fill of apartment life, especially in the city. I just wasn't cut out for it. I guess the country never leaves the country boy."

"It's funny. I never thought of you as a country boy."

"I suppose the Army had something to do with that. I didn't tell you but they came calling again when I was in Boston. I'd forgotten that after I'd served my hitch that when I used the GI Bill to further my education they had me on reserve status and they called me up. I got a commission as a second lieutenant and sent to the 'big sand box, ' something I really wasn't ready for."

"Where were you?"

"Afghanistan. Some place you'd never heard of I'm sure. I was in a reconnaissance group. They used to call us cannon fodder because we were the forward troops trying to find the enemy. I was green as grass in combat, yet they thought I should lead some of those kids. Crazy!"

"You survived it," she said, a worried look still evident.

"Yes, thank God. I had an experienced sergeant who kept me from making mistakes and we didn't lose anyone during my time. They must have been desperate for men if they put me in that position. I was never so happy the day my tour ended."

"Will they call you back again?"

"No ... I don't think so. The President is winding down our involvement. Supposedly the Iraqis and Afghans are going to look after themselves. What a joke!"

Mike was suddenly aware that Brenda had reached out and taken his hand, holding it tightly as he told her about his experience. He looked down at her grasp then up to her eyes. He saw concern but something else as well. He felt his chest tighten and his face flush from the contact. His mind was racing but to where?

They both tried to speak at the same time, then stopped, each waiting for the other. It was Mike that resumed.

"Brenda ... I've never forgotten those months we were together in Providence. I've carried the memories of them with me ever since. I ... I never found anyone I thought compared to you."

"I have fond memories of that time too, Mike. You were my first. No woman ever forgets her first. You made it right for a naïve teenager trying to be a woman."

"If ... if I asked you out ... for a date I mean, would you?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes," she said almost immediately, and again surprising herself with her definite response.

Mike had a big smile, looking down and realizing they were still holding hands. He squeezed gently as a thank you.

"Perhaps this weekend?"

"Saturday?"

"Perfect. Do you know where the best restaurant is?"

"Yes. It's called Mother McCrea's and it's in Walnut Grove."

"I'll make a reservation first thing tomorrow," he enthused.

"Don't bother, I'll look after it," she grinned, picking up the phone.

"Corrine, it's Brenda Polson. Could I get a reservation for two for Saturday evening at seven, please?"

The answer must have been positive because the only remaining conversation was "Thank you, I'll see you then."

"That was quick," Mike chuckled. "I take it you know this place well?"

"Yes. You won't be disappointed. The food is excellent and the service is equally good."

"I'll look forward to it," he said. "I'll pick you up here and you can guide me to this place."

"Come around six or so and you can meet my mother. She'll be babysitting for me."

"I'll be here. Thanks for the great meal, Brenda ... and thank you for letting me take you out. I'm really looking forward to it."

As he headed for the door, Brenda once again stopped him and kissed him. It wasn't a passionate kiss but it lingered on the lips a bit longer than the first one a few days earlier.

"Good night, Mike. I'll see you Saturday."

"Yes, you will. You definitely will," he smiled.

It was Friday morning before Mike was able to find some time to meet with Tom Reichart.

"Thanks for taking some time to talk to me, Mr. Reichart," Mike began.

"You're welcome, and please call me Tom. Everyone in town does," he smiled.

"Thank you again. I'm looking for a business opportunity in the area and I wanted to talk to you to see what your opinion was. Is this a good area to locate a business suitable for this town and the surrounding area? Will the local people support it? Is there something missing that the town needs and doesn't have?" Those are the kinds of things I'm thinking of."

Tom was nodding as he listened to the young man, sizing him up as he spoke.

"Brenda tells me that you have some experience in building and construction. Is that correct?"