Page 83 of The Other Guy

“Booth, please,” Kyle says after looking at me to confirm I’m okay with his choice.

“It’s not very busy,” I comment, hoping it doesn’t come out as rude.

“It’s only eleven. Our lunch rush usually picks up around eleven-thirty so you got here at a good time.”

“Ahh. Makes sense. It smells way too good in here for it not to be popular.”

She sits us down at a booth and lets us know that our waitress will be right over.

The lunch menu is extensive but not overwhelming but I haven’t even come close to making a decision when our waitress joins us.

“Hi, I’m Harper. What sounds good to drink today?”

“Iced tea, please.”

“Coke,” Kyle requests.

“You got it. Our lunch special today is chicken pot pie which is served with hot apples and the Reuben sandwich. The Reuben is served with your choice of seasoned fries or potato salad.”

Both of us slam our menus closed, excited for the special options. Kyle asks for the pot pie, as I knew he would, and me the Reuben with potato salad.

“Great choices. And the chef wanted me to let you know that he’s comping the meal today.”

“Uh, why?”

I look to Kyle but he doesn’t seem shocked at all. “I didn’t ask,” she says, shrugging. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Thanks,” I ask, looking around. “What do you think that’s about?”

“Let’s just enjoy our good fortune, shall we?”

Harper returns with our drinks and I take a long sip of my tea. “Okay, the folder?”

“Right.” He places it in front of me and taps it twice. “Have an open mind, okay?”

“Okay…”

“You’re my girl, you know that, right?”

I feel my gaze soften when I nod. “I do.”

“Good. Good. Well, I’m getting a bit older and wanted to make sure I had everything settled up. Didn’t want to do it earlier because… well, I had my reasons. Now, though, it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“Open it.”

I look at him as I open the folder and gasp. “Uncle Kyle. What is this?”

“It’s yours. As soon as you sign in front of a notary, I think. I don’t know for sure. I was too excited to really listen to what the banker was telling me,” he admits with a bright smile.

I’m shaking my head and pushing the folder away. “No. I can’t accept this.”

“You can and you will. Who else am I gonna give this to?”

“Uh, yourself? Kyle, I can’t accept this gift. It’s too much.”

He takes the folder and puts it aside. “It isn’t. The day you were born, I started putting money away for you. Whenever I’d have a little extra or for your birthday and Christmas.”

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