Corner Office
From the Tales of Dan Coast
Corner Office
From the Tales of Dan Coast
By
Rodney Riesel
Published by Island Holiday Publishing
East Greenbush, NY
Copyright © 2019 Rodney Riesel
All rights reserved
First Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Special thanks to:
Pamela Guerriere
Kevin Cook
Cover Image by:
muevich at 123rf.com
Cover Design by:
Connie Fitsik
To learn about my other books friend me at
https://www.facebook.com/rodneyriesel
For Brenda,
Kayleigh, Ethan
& Peyton
Chapter One
Maxine Myers pulled her brand-new Mustang convertible into the driveway of the bungalow at 632 Beach View Street and shut off her engine. It was seven o'clock in the morning and already seventy-eight degrees. She had ridden home with the top down, like she did most days. Parked to her left, mostly in the front yard to accommodate her car, was a black 2012 Porsche 911 S Cabriolet. The red Mustang Dan Coast had recently purchased for his fiance wasn't as expensive or as fancy as his own car, but it was much newer, and it was the one Maxine just had to have.
As Maxine walked up the front steps she glanced back over at her new car, the way most people do, and smiled. She opened the screen door, walked onto the front porch, and stepped over the Key West Citizen and the door mat that read The Coasts. Buddy, Dan's border collie/black lab mix, was already waiting for Maxine at the door, his tail wagging vigorously.
Maxine bent down and scratched the mutt between the ears. “Did you miss me today?” she asked. “Yes, you did,” she added in the snappy, dog-directed speech some people think is cute. Dan hated it.
She rose back up to see Dan walking from the kitchen into the dining room. He carried a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Is that for me?” Maxine asked.
Dan was just moving the cup toward his lips. He paused. “Of course it is,” he lied. “Heard you pull in the driveway, and I ran for the coffee pot.”
“You're so full of shit.”
“Never said I wasn't.” Dan took a sip of the hot coffee. “Ahh, nothin' like a fresh microwaved cup of yesterday's coffee.”
“You didn't make a fresh pot this morning?”
“Why would I do that? There was still half a pot from yesterday. It would be a waste to dump it out.”
“You're a waste,” Maxine grumbled. “I should dump you out.”
“Ouch.” Dan placed his cup on the dining room table. “You complain when I'm boozin', ya complain when I'm drinking day-old coffee, and you complain when I'm drinking booze in my day-old coffee. There's just no pleasing you. As soon as you walk in the door from work it's complain, complain, complain.”
Dan turned and faced the giant classroom-sized dry-erase case board that had stood in the way for almost two years. He rubbed his chin in thought as he stared at notes he had made with various colors of erasable marker.
Maxine cocked her head and stared at the back of her idiot boyfriend's head. “Um … the reason I complain about your boozin' when I get home from work, is because I get home from work at seven in the morning. No one is supposed to be boozin' at seven in the morning.”
“Oh, really?” Dan mocked. “Is that something you learned in nursing school?”
“Yeah, ya moron,” Maxine shot back. “It kinda is.”
“Moron? Wow, someone had a bad day. Did one of the crazies escape from the nut house?”
Maxine shook her head as she walked toward the kitchen. “You are one of the most offensive men I know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Crazies? They're called mental health consumers, and it's a psychiatric ward, not a nuthouse.” Maxine dumped the pot of coffee and began preparing a fresh one. “Crazies,” she whispered to herself.
“For your information,” Dan called out as he studied the case board, “I was in that loony bin for awhile, and I was one of those crazies.”
“Your point being?” Maxine asked.
“That gives me the right to make jokes like that. I was one of them, so I can say things like loony bin, nuthouse, crazies, wackadoos, etcetera, etcetera. It's like how Jewish people can make Jewish jokes, and black people can make black jokes.” Dan nodded his head as though he was giving himself a well-deserved attaboy.
“I don't even know how to respond to that.”
“I didn't think you would.” Won that argument. Let's see, Dan thought, as he studied his notes on the board. Why would anyone steal my full tank of propane, and replace it with an empty one?
Maxine walked back into the dining room and kicked off her Crocs. “What are you working on there, Rockford?”
“Well, believe it or not, Red and I were gonna cook a couple steaks on the gas grill last night. When it wouldn't light, I discovered that someone had snuck into the backyard and taken my propane tank, that I'd just recently filled, and replaced it with an empty one.”
“You need a hobby, sweetheart.”
“This is my hobby,” Dan responded. “I'm thinking it may have been Old Man Stein across the street.”
“Why would he steal your propane?”
“He was the only one on the street who was cooking out on his grill last night. Maybe he ran out of propane and decided rather than drive over to Home Depot and exchange it, he would steal mine.”
“He's seventy-five years old.”
“And?”
“How heavy is a tank of propane?”
“I don't know, but he's pretty spry for an old geezer.”
Maxine stared at the board. “Is Bullwinkle also a prime suspect?”
Dan spun around. “What? Bullwinkle? What's that supposed to mean?”
Maxine pointed at the upper left corner of the board. “You wrote Moose Tracks in red marker right there.”
Dan turned back and looked where Maxine was pointing. “Oh, that. Red and I got on the topic of favorite ice creams. He said he'd never had Moose Tracks ice cream before. I couldn't believe it. I told him it was the best. I wrote it up there so I wouldn't forget. Next time you're at the grocery store could you—”
“I'm going to bed.”
“You just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
“I'll have a cup when I get up.”
“But then it won't be fresh.”
“I'm only sleeping for a couple hours. I have to be back to work at two.”
“You sure work a lot.”
“Yeah, I didn't win the lottery.”
“Sucks to be you.” Dan flashed his pearly whites.
Maxine walked toward him. Dan half expected a slap, but she just wanted a kiss. She leaned in and pecked him on the lips. “You smell like booze,” she said.
“No I don't.”
“Is there booze in that coffee?”
“No.”
“Is there booze in that coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Don't forget your AA meeting Wednesday.”
“Don't forget your AA meeting Wednesday,” Dan parroted.
“Real mature. I'm going to bed.”
“We'll try to keep it down.”
Maxine spun on her heels. “We?”
“Red's coming over
to discuss the case.”
“What case?”
“The propane thing.”
“Good God, Dan!”
“What?”
“You left the damn grill on!”
“Waddaya talkin' about?”
“You forgot to turn the grill off Saturday night after you cooked the hamburgers. It was on all night. When I got up the next morning and went outside with Buddy, I noticed the knobs were on high. I shut it off.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Well, ya could have said something.”
“I didn't think about it until I came in here and saw your bullshit written on the white board.”
“Case board. Why didn't you say anything at that point?”
“I thought it would keep you busy wondering who stole it.”
“That's not very nice.”
“It's not very nice having your little friends over to play private detective all the time when I'm trying to sleep.”
“Sorry.”
“You should be.” Maxine turned and stormed down the hall to the bathroom. Once inside, she slammed the door.
Dan looked over at Buddy, who was lying on his flannel bed next to the three-legged, wooden table that held the photograph of Dan's deceased wife, Alex. Buddy stared at his master.
“What the Christ are you lookin' at?” Dan asked.
Buddy lowered his head and closed his eyes.
“That's what I thought.”
A few minutes later Maxine exited the bathroom, walked to the bedroom, and slammed that door as well. At that point Dan decided to add a little more tequila to his coffee. He then returned to the case board and began erasing his notes about the great propane caper. “Bullwinkle,” he mumbled quietly. He decided not to erase the Moose Tracks reminder.
The front door swung open and Red Baxter shouted, “What's up, pal?” He was holding the morning edition of the Key West Citizen in his hand.
“Shhh!” Dan said as he swung around with his finger to his lips.
Red froze in his tracks. “What's the matter?”
“Maxine is sleeping.”
“I'm trying!” Maxine shouted from the bedroom.
“Sorry,” Red whispered.
“Don't worry about it,” Dan said quietly. “She came in here this morning complaining about everything from boozin' to day-old coffee, and everything in between.”
“Is there tequila in that coffee?” Red asked.
“Shut up,” said Dan.
“Well, I mean she works all night and then comes home in the morning to you—”
“What part of shut up don't you get?”
“Just throwin' it out there.”
“Instead of throwin' it out there, why don't you just shove it up there. By up there I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” Red assured him. “Why are you erasing the case board? Did someone admit to stealing your propane tank?”
“Yeah.”
“Who? Was it Old Man Stein?”
“Let's go outside and talk about it.” Dan walked toward the kitchen. “You want a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“You made a fresh pot of coffee?”
“Maxine made a fresh pot.”
“Sure, I'll have a cup.”
“Help yourself,” Dan said, and walked out the back door.
Red went to the cupboard, grabbed a mug, and poured himself a cup. On his way out the back door, he turned and slapped his thigh. Buddy jumped up and raced to the door.
Dan hollered, “Don't let the door—”
Red let the screen door slam shut behind him.
“—slam shut,” Dan finished.
“Sorry,” said Red. He and Buddy strolled together down the gravel pathway that lead from the back door to the two Adirondack chairs that sat by the fire pit.
Dan sat in one chair, and Red took a seat in the other. Buddy walked around in a circle three times, sniffed the grass, and laid down between the two men.
“Where's the newspaper?” Dan asked.
“I left it on the table,” Red replied.
Dan shook his head.
“What?” Red asked. “If you wanted the newspaper out here you should have told me to bring it out with me.”
“Never mind.”
“Hey, look,” Red said, nodding his head toward Dan's neighbor's back deck.
Dan turned to see his neighbor, Bev, standing on one foot. She was holding her other foot in one hand, as she reached toward the beach with the other.
“Yeah,” Dan said, “she's been doing that yoga stuff every morning for the last few weeks.”
Red stared. “Damn, she looks good.”
“I guess.”
“You think she ever does any of that naked yoga?”
“Is that a thing?”
“I think so.”
“She's sixty years old, ya know.”
“And your point?”
“She's old enough to be your mother.”
Red's fingers twitched as he did the math. “Not hardly … unless she had me when she was like thirteen, or something.”
“You figure that up in your head, did ya?”
“I used my fingers,” Red admitted. “Still, she looks better than most women in their late forties.”
“Well, she's single.”
“Yeah, I miss old Frank.”
“Me too. He was a great guy. Always had a joke to tell, and it was usually the same one.”
Dan and Red continued to watch Bev perform her many yoga positions, one after the other. Finally the two men caught her eye. She stopped her workout and turned toward them.
“You two perverts are welcome to join me,” Bev called out.
“No thanks,” Dan hollered back. “Looks like a lot of work.”
“Morning, Bev,” Red hollered.
“Morning, Red.”
“Bev, Red was wondering if you ever do any of that naked yoga.”
“You asshole!” Red whispered.
“Not for free,” Bev hollered back.
“I didn't say that, Bev,” Red said. “He's lying.”
“No I'm not.”
Red smiled nervously. “Yes he is.”
“Nope. He said it.”
“You're a dick.”
Bev chuckled. “I'm going to change, and then I'll be over for a cup of coffee,” she said.
“You got it,” said Dan. He turned to Red. “Go in and get Bev a cup of coffee … and bring the newspaper on your way back out.”
“You do it,” Red shot back.
“If you don't go get the coffee, I'll keep talking about naked yoga when she gets here.”
“Such a dick head.” Red placed his coffee on the ground, stood, and lumbered up the gravel path to the back door.
“And be quiet in there. Maxine is trying to sleep.”
Red flashed Dan the bird over his shoulder as he walked.
“Real mature,” Dan said.
By the time Red returned with the newspaper and Bev's coffee, she was already on her way over. Buddy jumped up to greet her.
Bev scratched the mutt behind his ears. “Good boy,” she said. “If it wasn't for the rest of us, you wouldn't get any attention, would you?”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Dan asked.
“When was the last time you pet this dog?” Bev asked.
“Pet him?” Dan asked. “Why would I pet him? I don't pet any of my friends.”
Red handed Bev her coffee. “It's true, Bev,” he said. “He's never petted me once.”
Bev reached over and scratched Red's belly. “Good boy,” she said.
“Thank you,” Red responded. “That was nice.”
Bev took a seat on Red's Adirondack chair and Red fetched himself a lawn chair that was leaning up against the shed. He unfolded the chair and took a seat.
“Were ya quiet in there?” Dan asked.
“As a church mouse,” Red replied.
“Maxine sleeping?” Bev as
ked.
“Yut,” said Dan. “She came in from work in a pretty bad mood.”
“She didn't seem too happy when I was here the other night either,” Bev recalled. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything like what?” Dan asked.
“Have you asked her if everything is okay?”
“Why would I ask her that?”
“Gee, I don't know,” Bev said. “Maybe to see if there's anything you could do.”
“Do about what?” Dan asked.
“Wow, maybe I should just ask her. You don't have much going on between those ears, do you?”
“Ouch.”
Red snickered. “He probably has wet brain.”
“At least I have a brain,” Dan shot back.
“At least I have a brain,” Red parroted.
“Holy shit!” Bev said. “It's like having a conversation with children.”
“Dan did say you were old enough to be my mother, Bev.” Red remarked.
Bev glared at Dan. “Oh, did he?”
“That's not what—let's talk about something else.”
“Good idea,” Bev said.
“How's Richard doing?” Red asked. “Have you heard from him lately?”
Richard Bong was the half-brother Dan never knew he had, until recently, when Richard tracked him down. Richard's mother had passed away recently, but before she did, she told Richard that Gene Coast, Dan's father, was also his father. Gene had gotten Tran, Richard's mom, pregnant while he was stationed in Vietnam. He returned to the States weeks later, never knowing that Tran was carrying his baby.
“I spoke with him last night,” Dan said. “Maxine and I are supposed to go to Texas and see him next month.”
“That'll be nice,” said Bev.
“Yeah,” Dan agreed, “it will.”
“Has he met any of your sisters yet?” Bev asked. “His sisters too, I guess.”
“Not yet. They're all trying to correlate their vacations so we can all go to Texas at the same time. We thought that would be easier than Richard traveling all over the country to meet them.”
“That'll be fun,” Red said. “Let me know what dates that'll be.”
“You mean so you can watch my dog while I'm gone?”
“Um, no. I was planning on going with you.”
Corner Office (From the Tales of Dan Coast Book 12) Page 1