Highland Dew

by Barrett Magill

  ****

  Showered and dressed, Bryce opted for a small table by the window overlooking Michigan Avenue. It was unexpectedly thrilling to be in the heart of Chicago after weeks of country living. The traffic, the people exhilarated her.

  “Yes, thanks, I’ll have the full American breakfast.” Bryce smiled and felt her stomach growl.

  “Oh, are you visiting from elsewhere?” The waiter poured coffee in the china cup.

  “I guess I am. I’ve been working in Scotland for weeks, and I’m only back for a business meeting.” How odd to be visiting her hometown.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  She read his nametag. “Thank you, Scott.” Irony?

  The coffee tasted strong and rich. Many of the other diners looked like Chicago business types with dark suits or stunning haute couture. There were tourists as well. It felt so different than meals in Scotland, which seemed so much more laid back. There was a palpable energy in the room.

  The traffic outside was endless. Cars, buses, cabs, trucks, bicycles. Even though their main office was nearby, she had seldom spent much time there. It was so much more efficient to communicate via phone, text, computer, and teleconference. Still, it was nice that Leo still had some old-fashioned style, and visitors always noticed his gracious hospitality.

  The waiter reappeared with her entrée. “More coffee?”

  “Yes, please. This looks wonderful.” Fluffy scrambled eggs, hash brown potatoes, bacon, and toast. Same kind of ingredients, and a completely different taste. She groaned with pleasure, then looked around to see if she’d been heard.

  ****

  “Hi, Dad.” Fiona smiled at him, now dressed and up in his chair.

  “Hullo.” He waved her over. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m bored.”

  “I have just the news to entertain you.” She pulled a chair close and opened the manila folder. “Here are the two Powers of Attorney to look over. We’ll need to sign them with a notary present. And here’s a list of accounts that are now paid.”

  He took the papers. “I don’t suppose you’ve my glasses?”

  They both laughed. “Darn, I knew I’d forget something. How’s the therapy going?”

  “Good, I guess. They want me to use that damn walker. I don’t want to. I’m not a damn invalid.”

  Stubborn, as usual. “Just keep trying. Please?”

  He nodded. The blue-purple coloration below his eye had paled a bit.

  “Dad, I wanted to ask you another question. When you and Murray were talking a while back, he kept asking you about an envelope. Do you remember that?”

  “Hmm, I remember you asking me about that, but I’m not sure what he meant. I can ask him when he comes to see me.”

  Surprised, she said, “Has he come to see you?”

  “Sure, he’s been up a time or two.”

  “Odd, I haven’t seen him at all. What did he have to say?”

  He looked out the window and scratched below his chin, a habit when he wanted to avoid something. “Let me see, he mentioned a couple of the lads that meet up for horseshoes…”

  “Dad, why can’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  He looked at his lap. “It’s nothin’ for you to fret about.”

  “Fine. I have to get back. There’ll be two fellas coming to pick up the whisky barrels and I have to meet them.” She stood and put the chair back. “Please do what they ask so you can come home.” She kissed his cheek and he patted her hand.

  “I will.”

  At the reception desk, Fiona stopped to see if the doctor had visited yet. He hadn’t. “Will you ask him to phone me when he has a chance?”

  “Of course. Might be later this afternoon.”

  Dark clouds rolled in as she left the hospital. As she turned toward home and set the cruise control, she thought about the email from Ian Smith containing proofs for the new MacDougall labels. Since she had no idea where the previous work had been done, she told Bryce to use the information she had from the existing bottle.

  Bryce. It’d only been a day, but she realized that she’d gotten used to being able to call any time just to talk. It was a mistake to lose touch with old friends. When she had gotten involved with another teacher, they both cut off ties with friends to spend more time together. They ignored warnings from wiser women who encouraged them to socialize more. Even now, the scar from that breakup stung, and the growing attraction to Bryce set off red flags.

  ****

  The west coast regional sales office seemed so small after her visit to Chicago’s main office. Reggie booted up her computer and looked around her small office with a partial view of north 101—Van Ness Boulevard. From the roof, there was a distant view of Alcatraz. Inspiring.

  The morning had been devoted to reviewing records in HR. It’d taken hours to come up with three names from the department sales team that she considered able enough to replace her. Her standards were high, but certainly not unreasonable. When Leo called, she wanted to be able to give him a concise recommendation.

  When she heard the knock on the door, she said, “Come in.”

  “Ms. Ballard? HR said you wanted to see me.” The tall, thin, attractive young man stood in the doorway.

  “Yes, come in and have a seat. Eduardo Morales, right?”

  “Yes, but most people call me Ted.”

  “Great. Ted, it will be. I’m glad to finally meet you. It says you’ve been here for three years.” She scrolled through his personnel information. “You started in receivables and transferred to sales a year ago. It sounds like you were looking for advancement…or just a change?”

  “At first it was for more customer contact, but since we had a new baby…”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. It’s a little girl, three months.” Instantly Ted produced his phone with a picture.

  “She’s beautiful.” Reggie smiled at the proud father.

  He blushed. “Thanks. So, Maria—she’s my wife—and I talked about it, and since she won’t be working for a while, I need to pick up more hours.” He shifted in the chair.

  “You’ve done well so far. Your numbers are good, and evaluations are positive.” She turned to face him. “Since business is growing, we’re looking at changes. And since Ms. Andrews is still in Scotland, I was asked to review some names for Mr. Edelman. I’m not exactly sure what he has in mind, but I’ll keep you in the loop.” She pulled out her best debutante smile and swept her hair back.

  Ted blushed, and he blinked several times. “Yes…uh…thank you.” He stumbled standing up.

  “One more thing. Since I have to talk to a couple of other people, I’d like you to keep this to yourself.”

  He nodded and closed the door behind him.

  She tapped a nail on keyboard. Good possibility. Smart, overachiever, polite, and not cocky.

  She gazed out the window to the low clouds crawling across the bay. As anxious as she was to finally be promoted, she regretted her actions with Bryce. They had been good friends for a long time, and without her, she wouldn’t have this job.

  Was it too late to make amends?

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “Good to see you again, Bryce.” Leo pushed out of his chair to stand. He looked bright-eyed, but quite frail.

  “Not as glad as I am to see you.” She leaned across his tidy desk to shake his bony hand, which could still grip.

  “Would you like coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I’m coffee-ed out from a great breakfast. The Blackstone provides wonderful food and is still an elegant hotel. Thank you.” Bryce sat in the club chair in front of him. For a very successful CEO, Leo’s office had always felt comfortable to her.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I figured the long plane trip might drain you.” He winked. “And I wanted you well rested. First, tell me how things are going.”

  She wanted to ask for a leave of absence immediately, but that might have to wait a bit. “I think we accomplished what
we set out to do. The samples we collected and interest in our company seemed authentic. Plus, I must say, I learned a great deal about distilling whisky. It’s another world from sales.”

  “Was there anything in particular you liked?” He shifted in his chair and leaned forward.

  Fiona’s smile jumped into her head, and she quickly refocused. “I think spending some time in an actual distillery and experiencing the amount of work involved was the most educational—and fun. The roasting, the mash, and the slow distilling in the huge copper stills…it seemed so old-fashioned. Probably the same as it was a hundred years ago, but the lengthy process achieves the incredible tastes.”

  Leo smiled. “You’re sounding like a master distiller.”

  She laughed. “Far from it, but in spite of the variety in personalities and philosophies, the product has a wonderful uniformity.”

  “Good for you! That wasn’t my original intent, but I’m pleased that you learned so much.”

  Margaret knocked and stuck her head in the door. “Excuse me. You asked that I remind you of the meeting in thirty minutes.”

  “Thanks. Before we go down there, I wanted some ideas from you about the west coast office. I told Reggie that we were looking at a promotion, and I wanted her to suggest some replacements for her position.”

  This subject hung over their heads since she walked in. “Did you say ‘promotion’?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Yes. I didn’t mention to her it would be overseas—Thailand.”

  “I’m confused. Didn’t you tell me she had a discrimination case?” She bristled. Why in the world would he reward her?

  “She didn’t have a case, and she knew it. But I also didn’t want to fire her and give her cause. I think she was blowing off steam, but it still wasn’t appropriate. And wasted our time.”

  A trickle of perspiration slid down the back of her neck. Just tell him. “Before we talk to the board, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Of course, what is it?” Leo looked worried.

  “Remember when we talked about my last vacation?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Yes, sorry I was negligent, or rather…HR was.”

  “Well, I thought about it and how much I’ve enjoyed the slower pace in Scotland…I…I’d like to take a leave for a few months.” She exhaled.

  He cocked his head. “I see. What’s a few months?”

  “Three to six…”

  “You’ve certainly earned it. Let’s see what the team thinks, shall we?”

  Another knock, and Ari Gellman, the company’s general counsel, appeared with a wheelchair. “Your chariot, my lord. Hi, Bryce.”

  Leo groaned. “Did Margaret put you up to this?”

  “I volunteered. Come on, enjoy it while you can.” Ari locked the chair and deployed the footrests. Leo reluctantly lowered himself onto his wheelchair.

  Bryce could feel his sense of defeat.

  They walked the length of the hall to a large, airy conference room with a wall of windows overlooking the lake. Three men and a woman were seated at one end of the table. She recognized all of them as longtime employees and a generally cohesive group. Each nodded or waved as she went around the table and sat next to Kathleen Grayson, head of international marketing.

  “It’s so nice to see you in person, Bryce.” She patted her hand.

  “You, too,” she whispered as Ari moved Leo to the head of the table.

  “I’m glad you could all make it on such short notice.” Leo opened a folder. Margaret appeared with a notepad. “I want this to be brief, so unless there is urgent business, I want to focus on some changes to the west coast office.”

  “In addition, I wanted to let Ms. Andrews know how excited we are with the new contacts in Scotland. Ian Smith briefed us on a conference call. Thanks, Bryce.”

  “Thanks. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would and the people we contacted were wonderful to work with.”

  “That’s a perfect segue,” Leo said. “I think Ari briefed all of you on the personnel problem that precipitated this meeting. We negotiated a solution to avoid further problems by offering Ms. Ballard a promotion to another division. I asked her for some names of a replacement, which she provided.” He held up a list. “But I’d like to consider another shift. Ms. Andrews has asked for temporary leave to spend more time in Scotland. Selfishly, I think this might be advantageous because of her connections with the new partners.”

  Bryce swallowed hard. She knew Leo had his own reason for bringing this to the table, but she suddenly felt spotlighted. Her heart jackhammered in her chest, and she slid her sweaty hands into her lap and out of sight.

  The other members glanced at each other, but Leo continued.

  “We need to consider another experienced individual to fill in for her as West Coast Sales Manager, as well as choosing Ms. Ballard’s replacement. We don’t want this transition to cause an upheaval that creates anxiety.”

  One by one, they offered comments and suggestions, but Bryce withdrew into her own thoughts about how this would affect her team when they found both Bryce and Reggie gone. It never occurred to her that this might upset the balance she’d worked so hard to achieve. Maybe a leave right now was not a good idea. Should she wait until she could choose Reggie’s replacement?

  ****

  Reggie deleted the note she’d typed, and started over. Damn. This was harder than she thought. She swallowed more of her whisky and took a breath.

  Dear Bryce,

  I’m sure this is too little, too late, but I feel awful about stirring up such a shit-storm over nothing. I’ll be writing a note to Leo as well. I probably won’t send this until I get settled wherever they’re sending me. That’s selfish, I know. But I am a good employee and you’ve always said so.

  We had a good friendship and shouldn’t have pushed it. That was my fault, too…

  ****

  Fiona steered into their driveway and her dad put his hand on her arm.

  “Can you stop?”

  “Of course. What’s wrong?”

  He chuckled. “Nothing, I just wanted a quick look at the sign.”

  It looked the same, dangling on one hook, the paint chipped and fading. Even the weeds around the posts echoed the neglect and sadness.

  “Mary and I had the new sign made when she told me she was pregnant. It’s always said that same thing for five generations.” He cleared his throat. “Looks like it needs a facelift.”

  “We’ll get it fixed, and we don’t have to change it if you don’t want.” She drove on to the house. “Let’s get you settled and fed.” She saw the faraway look in his eyes. He seldom shared the soft side with her.

  Their truck sat next to the loading dock in the shade of a broad tree. She wondered if Murray would come over now that her dad was home.

  “I need the loo,” he said, leaving his walker by the kitchen door. She shook her head and pushed it into the living room, and set his duffel bag on the table.

  The room looked clean and tidy. It smelled like spring. She’d used his absence to do some cleaning and reorganizing. Hopefully, he’d not notice some things missing—like the stack of magazines, the soiled tea towels from the armrests of his chair, and the collection of pipe cleaners in an old cup. All of the windows sparkled, and the house smelled fresh.

  “I’m going to fix some lunch. Why don’t you, and your walker, join me in the kitchen?” She snickered.

  What was Bryce doing in the Windy City of Chicago? She looked at the clock and realized it was too early to be working. Again she was tempted to call her…but always felt silly and childish.

  As she sliced the ham, she recalled the night they spent drinking wine, sharing stories, and laughing. It was probably the most fun she’d had in a year. Probably more than a year since her painful breakup.

  From the window sill she picked up a bright red tomato, perfectly ripe and juicy. The perfect topper for their sandwiches.

  “Dad, are you ready to eat?”

/>   “Aye,” he called, and pushed the walker in front of him, grumbling. “I’m more apt to fall over this damn thing.”

  She turned to hide her smile. “Let’s try to avoid falls and hospitals for awhile.”

  “This looks good. They tried to starve me at that place. Gruel and weak tea. Bah.” He picked up the sandwich and took a large bite.

  “I thought you said you liked the food in the hospital.”

  “Aye, the hospital, not that rehab place.”

  They ate in companionable silence. It was a relief to have him safely home.

  When he popped the last bite in his mouth, Fiona tested the waters for a serious conversation. “Does Murray know you were coming home today?”

  “Sure. I told him last night when he called.”

  “Good. Can I ask you a favor?” She refilled his water glass.

  “Of course, darlin’. This is a good sandwich.”

  “Would you tell me more about how you and Murray got to be friends?”

  He cocked his head and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “That was an awful long time ago.” He squinted a bit.

  “Murray was from up near Elgin. We met in training for the Royal Navy. In eighty-two we were working maintenance on the HMS Hermes when it got shipped to the Falklands to fight the Argentines. Messy business. Never did understand why they wanted that island so far from home.” He leaned back and got out his pipe.

  “You never mentioned you went to the Falklands. Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I wanted to get away from here and see more of the world. Your granddad wasn’t an easy fella to get on with.” He puffed his pipe.

  “When did you come back?”

  “When my mother finally wrote and said Dad needed help, but didn’t want to ask. Stubborn old goat.”

  She patted his hand. “Guess that apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “Hmpf. Well…Murray had no place to go and I thought he might get a job helping out here. I’ll bet we weren’t back a month when I ran into little Mary MacCray, prettiest girl in our school.”