Chapter 2-2
518 Words
Max finished the specs for an advertisement he was doing for a client, then emailed them to the woman. With that done, he stretched, rolling his shoulders, then checked to make certain there wasn’t anything else that he needed to do before ending his work day. His calendar was clear, so he shut down his computers and left his office.
“You’re home,” he said when he saw Jack sitting in the living room. “I was about to make supper. Do you have any druthers about what it should be?”
“Something simple,” Jack replied, sounding distracted.
“Burgers?”
“I guess.”
Max frowned as he continued to the kitchen. It was apparent something was on Jack’s mind. Knowing his nephew, he was certain Jack would tell him what when he was ready. Max had learned long ago that pushing him to talk wouldn’t work.
While he was adding pepper, garlic powder, and a dash of hot sauce to the meat before forming it into patties, he heard Jack come into the room to set the table. “How was your day?” Max asked him.
“Fine.”
“Did you get that paper written?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s done and turned in.”
Max put the burgers in the frying pan, then took out the makings for a tossed salad.
“Here, I’ll do that,” Jack said—and did.
Soon everything was on the table and they sat down to eat. Jack was halfway through his second burger when he set it down, saying “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. What? Is something wrong? From the tone of your voice…”
“No. Well…”
Max c****d his head. “Spit it out.”
“Okay. I, umm, didn’t go to the library last night,” Jack replied, his words tumbling out. “Instead, I went to a gun shop and bought a gun and learned how to use it. Well, had my first lesson anyway and I’m going back tonight and I want you come with me because I want you safe from Tony if he shows up and the guy who runs the place says you need to learn, too, and get a gun because no security will stop Tony if he’s intent on hurting you, or when you’re out doing something and…” He stopped, looking at Max as if he was afraid of what Max’s response would be.
“No wonder that paper wasn’t a masterpiece,” Max said dryly, uncertain how he felt about what Jack has just told him.
“Yeah. About that. Sorry I lied but…” Jack stared down at his plate.
“You thought you had a good reason to.” Max clasped his hands, resting his chin on them. “I don’t like guns. You know that.”
“I do.”
Max smiled crookedly. “But I don’t like being dead, either. If this is that important to you, I guess it won’t hurt if I at least talk with the guy. I’m not promising I’ll get a gun, though.” Jack let out a deep breath which made Max chuckle. “You thought you’d have to argue for an hour to get me to agree?”
“Well, yeah.”
“If things were different, you would have had to, and I still wouldn’t have agreed.”
Jack nodded. “I know. Thanks for at least coming to talk with him.”
“You’re welcome. Now, shall we finish the magnificent supper I prepared?”
“We prepared. I did make the salad.” Jack winked as he picked up his half-eaten burger, making quick work of finishing it.
After clearing the table and putting the dishes in the washer, they took off, with Max driving.
- Writer
