I straighten my tie before knocking on my uncle’s office door, which is ajar, but I want to be polite regardless. “You wanted to see me?”
He smiles as he looks up from his paperwork. “Come on in, son. Have a seat.” Uncle Kellen calls me and my brothers “son” because we all grew up together. He and Orla moved in with my dad and us after Aunt Helen died. He certainly feels like a father figure to me, especially because we have so much in common. His office is what I would describe as perfect. Everything has a place. Every item in the room serves a purpose, and was chosen to be both functional and attractive. This is a calm room.
I sink into the chair opposite his desk, delighting in the comfortable way it hugs my lower back. “So tell me about Kentucky,” he says, folding his hands togethe
