Chapter Eleven: Thinking about Things (I Think too Much)

“Well, what else could it be? You’re young, storming about. I know what it’s like when a young lady turns a man’s blood to boiling. I was your age once.” Hank smiled.

“It’s not that. I mean, it is. But it’s not.”

“Young love,” Hank chortled, making a move on the chessboard.

“I’m not in love!” I almost yelled. “Sorry. Well, I’m not. I just met her two days ago. I hardly know her. That’s what I’m upset about.”

“I don’t follow.” Hank sipped his tea.

“Well, I don’t know her. There’s no reason for me to be thinking about her all day long. Absolutely none. I want her out of my head!”

Hank laughed again, shaking his head. “Ah, young man, to be in your shoes. When you’re old like me, you’ll appreciate this day a little more. You’ve got passion, and the chance at adventure. You should follow it, see where it leads you.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I have plans of my own, work to do. She has her own life, and it seems pretty busy. I don’t think…”

“You do think. You think too much. Why not just enjoy it? Gather ye rosebuds, while ye may!”

“Pardon?”

“I forgot, you don’t read.” Hank rested his chin on his hand, thinking. His white eyebrows furrowed with his wrinkled brow, as he sat deep in contemplation. “I’m trying to say, seize the day! You have the rest of your life to grow old, make money, work hard… You’re young. Follow your heart, while you can. When you’re an old fart like me, you’ll have grand memories, instead of regrets.”

I stared at the chessboard. “Do you have many regrets?”

“Not a one.” Hank smiled. Then, he winked. “But then, I chased the love of my life until I caught her.”

I sighed. “I can’t believe I’m telling a stranger all this.”

“Me either,” Hank grinned. “Your friends must be unreliable.”

“Have you met Matt?” I laughed. “He’d tell me to go get drunk.”

“That’s the last thing you should do. Highly melodramatic, and unworthy of a hero.”

“Hero?”

“Every man is the hero of his own life story. When you sit back as an old man, with a cup of tea, you need to be proud of your stories. No regrets, remember?”

I smiled. “Thanks, Hank. Maybe I should come to you instead of Matt when I have problems.”

“Well, I’m here most Saturdays. That chair should usually be open.” Hank smiled. “Now, shut up and finish the game. I want to see how this one turns out.”


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Hank kicked my butt. However, I had a lot of fun. I grabbed dinner from a hotdog vendor on a corner and walked home. I intentionally ignored my telephone and went into the living room, sitting on the couch and watching the news.

The television was mostly just for background. I thought about what Hank said, but I wasn’t really willing to trust the word of some old coot. I mean, I got what he was saying about following your heart. Every movie ever made seems to have that theme. I just didn’t know if it applied to the situation with Calla.

It would be really nice to just be adventurous, like Hank said. Fall in love, take some risks, make life something amazing… Everyone wants that, right? Too bad that real life wasn’t like the movies. My own parents proved that. Rich, successful, and miserable. I didn’t want to end up like that.

I spread my arms over the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling with a groan. I also didn’t want to get involved with something crazy. Calla was so complicated. Aloof and stern one day, sweet and flirtatious the next. Kissing me and threatening me, sort of. Warning me away from herself, certainly. And then calling me. This was so messed up.

But, that kiss…

I had called her already today. The ball was in her court, as the old saying goes. Either she called me back (or had already, and it was waiting on the machine) or she didn’t. If she did, I’d just make my next play accordingly. Yeah, that was it. I’d just go with the flow. If she was interested, I’d try again. If she didn’t put forth the effort, I’d move on. I’d only bring up the craziness if she did. Otherwise, it was no big deal. Casual and calm, that was the plan.

I felt better already, having come up with even that much of a course of action. I hated uncertainty. Like I said, I enjoyed my routines.

I went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. I reached for the phone to order pizza. I was going to veg out on the couch and watch sports or a movie. Clear my mind of all thought.

On an impulse, I decided to check my messages.

“Diggory, it’s your father. My secretary has informed me that you missed work on Friday. That’s unfortunate, because I put a very important file on your desk that morning. I just got back from an overnight trip to Denver, and learned of your absence. I expect you to bring that file to Sunday’s luncheon, whether you’re still sick or not. Bring flowers for your mother.”

He hung up. I slammed the phone down on the receiver.

So much for my lazy Saturday. I hurried down to the street and hailed a cab.

The lobby of the building was locked, of course, but I had my own keys and security pass. I rode the elevator up to my office floor, and got off. I marched to my corner office and unlocked the door, hurrying inside. I saw a thick manila file on my desk. I picked up the phone.

“Security desk.”

“Hey, Joe. It’s Diggory Franklin, I just wanted to let you know I’m in the law department, picking up some files. In case you saw some creep wandering through your camera screens.”

“No problem, Mr. Franklin. Thanks for letting us know. Have a good night.”

“You too, Joe.”

I hung up. The display showed there were four missed calls. Which meant calls after hours, as Lorraine would have taken anything while she was here.

Who would have called? I punched the code for messages.

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