Page 183 of Sing with Me

“Before I go, let’s get a photo.” Anastasia whipped out her hot pink phone and snapped a photo of Skye and Watt. Then she wandered off.

“Let’s go over there a minute.” He pointed to a clearing where there were some makeshift picnic tables and benches, all occupied.

“I’m still judging.”

“You’re taking a break.”

When Skye saw Watt limp, Skye didn’t have the heart to say no. “A few minutes.”

“That’s all I need.” Watt lead the way. “I turned eighty-eight in December.”

“Eight-eight. Wow. Did you get the birthday card I sent?”

Watt nodded. “You’re the only one who wishes me a ‘Happy Seventieth Birthday!’ for the last sixteen years.”

“That was because I forgot your age and didn’t want to get it wrong.”

“You made my day and I never forget a good deed—even after years.” He turned solemn. “I also never forget regrets and mistakes. This elephant memory I have is a curse.”

Quietly, Skye prayed for God to comfort her uncle’s old friend.

“You probably don’t know this, but after cooking school last century, I made some poor decisions and ended up a pauper.” Watt stopped in the middle of the clearing in between the booths and picnic tables. Foot traffic flowed around them. He grabbed his hip. “Your uncle gave me a job for a while in his kitchen. Do you recall?”

Skye had to dig back into her memories a long way for that. “I remember Uncle Miller saying that you were his best friend from cooking school.”

“Was that all he told you?” Watt smiled. “He was the best friend anyone could ever have. He gave me a hundred thousand dollars in operating funds to start my own personal chef business in Savannah. That was how Watt’s for Dinner was born. And he never asked for a dime back.”

“I had no idea.”

“Now you know. I didn’t say anything to anyone, but Jessica knew—I told her after we married. Years later, when I turned a profit, I didn’t give any money back to Miller. In fact, when I opened my new branch in Atlanta, I lost touch with Miller. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when he died. I figured Irma had enough money from the restaurant to take care of herself.”

“She sold the restaurant, fell ill shortly thereafter, and passed away in her sleep.” Skye felt she had to say it, even though Watt probably remembered.

“The glory days were no more. You and your brother were in college.”

“They did leave Seb and me something to start our career after college and chef school.” Sky was grateful for the inheritance. “Seb went into the restaurant business and I became a personal chef. We both also ran a catering business for some years.”

“You became a personal chef because of my influence.” Watt drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I named you in my will, you know?”

“What?”

“Stop saying that, Skye.”

“You’re unloading a lot of information on me, Watt,” Skye said. “Are you sure it’s not heatstroke or something?”

“I’m not babbling. I called Sebastian and found out where you were going to be this week.”

“No wonder. See, I knew we didn’t just run into each other.”

“Anastasia thought we’d make a vacation out of this, so after tomorrow, we’re going to drive down to Key West and rent a yacht. Practice run.”

“Sounds like an expensive vacation.”

Watt shrugged. “Do I look like I care? I want to cash out and spend every dime.”

“Isn’t that reckless?”

There was a twinkle in Watt’s eye. “That’s what Miller would’ve said if he were right here. You take after your uncle so much.”

---