Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Not a word!” she said. “I’ll keep things light. I promise.”
I took out my phone to text Avon, hoping I wouldn’t regret it later.
“So what do you do back in San Diego?” my father asked Avon over dinner an hour later.
“Pharmaceutical sales. It’s not very interesting.”
“I’ve heard it can be very lucrative, though.”
She nodded. “It can, but you have to work a lot of hours to get there.”
“Avon, this wine you brought is fantastic,” my mom said.
“Oh, I’m glad you like it. My mom always liked that one, too.”
I patted her knee under the table and she met my gaze with a reassuring smile. I’d told her she didn’t have to come, but she’d immediately responded to my text and said she wanted to. My parents were thrilled.
“Dinner is amazing,” Avon said to my mom. “This is the best meal I’ve had in a really long time.”
“Well, thank you. Did your parents like to cook when you were growing up?”
Avon smiled. “My dad loved to cook. And my mom didn’t dislike it or anything. They usually made dinner together.”
“That sounds nice.”
“I actually wanted to ask you about something,” Avon said. “When I used the bathroom right after I got here, I noticed a photo in the hallway of a little boy in a cape.”
Dad laughed heartily and I shook my head.
“When he was four years old, Ryan refused to wear anything but that red cape for months,” Dad said. “He wouldn’t even wear underwear. Just the cape.”
Avon smiled warmly at me. “Were you a naked Superman?”
“Something like that,” I mumbled.
“That’s how he broke his arm,” my mom said, laughing. “Jumping out of a tree, wearing nothing but that cape, convinced he could fly.”
“Ouch,” Avon said. “Did you try again after that?”
“Nope. And I ripped the cape on a branch on the way down.”
“You were more upset about that than your arm,” Mom said.
It was true. I’d been a hellion as a kid, bouncing back and forth between wanting to be a superhero and wanting to be a police officer like my dad.
“Those were the days,” Dad said fondly. “What I wouldn’t give for just one more day with my children as kids.”
“Hopefully, one day, we’ll have grandkids to help us remember those days,” Mom said.
I shot her a quick glare and she gave me a look of mock innocence.
“Avon, I didn’t know your parents well,” my dad said, “but I want to share something with you.”
Avon looked at him, her eyes bright with interest. “Please do.”
“I was a few years younger than Dave and Pete, but I knew who they were. Everyone did. They were both talented baseball players. I was walking home from school one day and I had to walk past the field they were practicing at. A few older kids were giving me trouble, and Dave and Pete left practice to come help me. They chased the older kids off and told me to come sit on their bench until practice was over, and then they walked me home. I never forgot it.”
Avon found my hand under the table and squeezed it, looking misty-eyed. “Thank you for telling me about that.”
Dad nodded. “Pete later became a good friend of mine. We had breakfast at Tipper’s together often and went fishing several times. He was a good man.”
“I wish I could’ve met him, even one time,” she said. “I feel like I’m getting to know him just through his photography and his work at the Chronicle.”
“That was his life’s work. He was so proud of that paper. There was a woman he liked to spend time with, but mostly he poured himself into the paper.”
“Really? I hadn’t heard there was anyone special in his life.”
“Her name is Christine. She grew up here, but now she lives in a town about an hour from here. I’d be glad to put you in touch with her if you ever want to meet her.”
“I may take you up on that, thank you.”
We finished dinner with no more talk of grandchildren from my mom, Avon raving about the pound cake she made for dessert. After about an hour of after-dinner coffee and conversation, I put an arm around Avon and said, “Better get going.”
“Oh, really?” Mom didn’t even try to hide her disappointment. “We could play some cards or something.”
“Another time,” I said.
I planned to go back to the station and work some more. Evenings were the best time to go into the secured room where old hard-copy budgets were stored. I still had a lot of digging to do for the state police.
“It was so nice to meet you, Avon,” my mom said, hugging her. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Me too.”
Dad shook her hand and said goodbye, and we headed out together.
“That was nice, thanks for inviting me,” she said.