CHAPTER ONE-4
627 Words
GRANT SMILED AS HE drilled down into the ‘Christmas at Fort Concho’ website and found what he was looking for.
“Edward Baker,” he murmured, making a note. “That’s who I need to interview, from the sounds of it.”
He typed out an email of introduction, including his desire to speak with the man about Fort Concho’s history, and hit ‘send’.
“Okay,” Grant murmured, “now I just need to line out a place to stay while I’m there. But first, dinner.”
His phone rang just as he finished placing his delivery order from his favorite Chinese restaurant’s website.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, a warm smile creasing his face. “I’ve been meaning to call you and Dad. Guess what happened at work yesterday?”
“You got the promotion, didn’t you?” Bernice Forrester asked.
He chuckled. “How did you know?”
“Because you sound like a little kid at Christmas,” she told him, and made him laugh out loud.
“I probably do,” he conceded. “I’m just so jazzed to finally get a chance to prove myself as a columnist instead of making sure other people’s articles are error-free.”
“I know you’ve had this dream for a while, honey, and I’m so proud of you! Now, tell me all about it. What’s your first piece going to focus on?”
“The Texas Forts Trail,” he said. “Starting with Fort Concho, in San Angelo.”
“I’ve never heard of that, and I’ve lived in Texas all my life,” his mother remarked. “Sounds intriguing – and fun for you, too. You’ve always been a history buff.”
He walked her through his concept for the series.
“The cool part is, each location has at least one event going on yearly to commemorate the history,” he concluded. “So, my thought is to almost make this a guide of sorts – experience the places and events firsthand and share it all with my readers.”
“And I think you’ll do brilliantly,” Bernice said. “You’re not traveling this week, are you?”
“And miss your amazing cooking? No way. I’ll come home on Thursday for Thanksgiving like we planned, Mom,” Grant confirmed.
She laughed, and as always, the sound warmed him.
“So, what’s Dad up to?”
“He’s still not home from work yet,” Bernice revealed, the laughter leaving her voice. “They’ve got him working all sorts of extra hours. That boss of his is too cheap to hire enough people to cover all the routes.”
“They’re treating him like that after thirty-one years of service. Seriously?”
“I’m afraid so, honey,” she said, “and I’m worried about him. They’re running him into the ground.”
Grant shook his head in frustration as he listened to his mother vocalize her concerns about her husband’s health.
“That’s not right,” he grumbled.
“I know. But your dad’s been determined to try and stick it out until he can retire.”
“But that’s two more years!”
A sigh from her end. “I know, honey. I know.”
***
* * * *
JANDY AND TONY PULLED into Nathan and Bella’s driveway just before seven-fifty p.m. and walked up to the front door with four large bags.
Before they could knock, Nathan opened it.
“Sorry we’re late,” Tony said. “Had to buy some clothes and stuff to get us through the next few days.”
“You guys okay?”
Jandy tilted her head, pondering his question for a brief moment before she replied, “No,” and burst into tears.
The last time I saw her cry was the day Dad died, Nathan thought, and he stepped forward to envelop her in a hug.
“It’s all gone,” she managed between sobs. “All our pictures of the kids growing up, everything.”
Another pair of headlights in the drive caught Nathan’s attention as he attempted to console his big sister.
“Hey g**g,” Faith called out as she and Rick exited his truck. “Thought we’d come over and see what we can do to help.”
“Let’s start by having some dinner,” Bella replied from the doorway with Charlie on her hip. “I made a lasagna. Come on in, guys.”
***
- Writer
