Page 120 of Executive Decision

She furrowed her brow. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I have never loved anyone the way I love this woman, Jo. Daphne is fighting for her life and I’m here doing stupid shit I don’t care about. I should. You’ve done so much, and I appreciate it immensely. I do. But…”

“Your mind is elsewhere?”

I nodded.

She took a long, deep breath, as if defeated.

“I wish you would leave her—not that I think she’s a bad person. The timing isterrible—but I need you at the top of your game for this speech, Cal.”

“I know. I am telling you that I cannot be—not until I can see her. We have another week of this. I have a week to get my head in the game. Unfortunately, until I clear some things up with her, I won’t be able to do that.”

Jo patted my knee. “Fine. Get done here. Do the best you can and go see her. If that is what you need to calm down, do it. I can’t handle this right now—you, like this. Stop being a sad sack, Cal.”

41THE RETURN

Daphne

“Daphne, sweetheart, are you awake?”

I shifted, pushing myself to see my mother’s concerned face, “I wasn’t, no.”

“Well, we’ve had dinner. Would you like any leftovers?”

“No,” I answered. “I’m not hungry.”

“Sweetheart, you must eat.”

I remained too overwhelmed to eat—worried about Chandler’s mess and my board presentation on Monday. I wanted comfort and quiet, but Mother forced me to eat three times since I came home.

“Well, you should go to bed upstairs.”

“I know,” I said. “But I just want to spend a little more time here.”

“Alright,” Mum sighed.

She left me on my father’s office couch. I retreated here when I reached home. It was late. And yet, I couldn’t leave. If my father was alive, I would have run to him. He would have hugged me tight and said it would be fine soon. But right now, he couldn’t. So, I came to this place as it reminded me of him—down to the feel, smell, and look. This was where he did his best thinking. We climbed all over, crawled on the floor, and never bothered him. Because for Dad, there was nowaywe could. As Mum said, he had patience for us he lacked with others.

I rolled onto my side again, focused on Dad’s Tiffany desk lamp. He always kept it on, which annoyed Mum to no end. I stood, turned it on, and returned to my spot on the couch. Shortly after, there was a knock. Dora peeked her head in.

“Dora, I just want to rest,” I insisted.

“I brought you a brownie. I made them,” Dora said, sweetly. “If you gotta eat, why not a brownie?”

“I’m good, thanks,” I said.

She sat it on the side table. “Well, it’s here. And you should eat.”

I groaned. “You’re sweet, but I’m fine.”

Dora disappeared and I looked at the brownie longingly. Thatdidsound good. And she frosted it. It was sweet of her to make my favorite dessert.Fine, what the hell!

I dug in, enjoying its chocolate chunks and delicious, fudgy texture. Dahlia was the chef, but Dora was a close second when it came to cooking.

There was another knock.

Mouth full of brownie, I shouted, “Dora, leave me alone! I’m eating your fucking brownie. Just leave me be!”

---