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Chad did not skip a beat. “Well, traditionally, lamb shares the table with red Bordeaux, Burgundy, Cabernet Sauvignon, or Cotes-du-Rhône,” he began. “I happen to know that Mom and Dad have a few bottles of Abeja Cabernet Sauvignon 2019 that they purchased two years ago while in Washington state. I think you’d enjoy it very much.”
I decided to test him. “Wow,” I stated. “One would assume that Washington is too wet for vineyards.”
“Quite true of Western Washington,” he stated. “However, the eastern side of the state is drier, particularly the Walla Walla Valley region where these grapes are grown and bottled.”
Gorgeous and cultured? Kill me now. “Impressive,” I said. “I’ll try your suggestion as long as you’ll join me.”
“The kid knows his wine,” Dad chipped in. “His taste is so refined that we basically depend on him to keep our cellar well stocked.”
Chad headed downstairs, and I leaned back in my chair, studying his parents. “He’s amazing,” I stated, unafraid of how it might sound, since I barely knew Chad. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”
“And why do you say that, Cole?” Maggie asked, looking down and rearranging her cutlery. After a moment, she looked up and directly at me. “Of course, we believe the same about our son, but what about him causes you to provide such a compliment?”
I knew to be cautious with an answer. First off, I didn’t want to come off as creepy because my sexual urges were in a flutter over her son. He was fucking amazing to look at was the first thing I wanted to tell her, but that was obviously wrong as a starter. After just an hour or so with them, it was quite clear that Maggie and her son shared something special. They were bonded without a doubt. For a man to win Chad, it would take also winning his mother.
“He’s different,” I began, pursing my lips in thought. “But you both already know that.”
“How so?” Maggie asked.
“He’s so… very much alive. Does that sound odd to say it like that?” I asked. They both shook their heads and mumbled no. “It’s like every word he speaks is important to him. He is selective in the things he offers to a conversation and he really listens.” I shrugged my shoulders in confusion. “And after all that blabbering, I still can’t put a finger on what it is about him.”
“Chad is sensitive, Cole,” Maggie began, smiling gently at me. “Not necessarily in the sense that he feels emotion differently than the rest of us. No, that’s not it,” she added. “We believe it has more to do with the fact that he feels everyone’s emotions.”
Her description fit for sure, and after what he’d said about Jack last week, I now had a better handle on why Chad said the things he’d said to a stranger.
“He acts like the most alive person I believe I have ever met,” I said. “He actually reminds me so much of my best friend who passed away a couple of years ago. I’ve never gotten over the loss,” I admitted, suddenly welling up.
Maggie slid her hand into mine and held it gently. “Jack?”
Just hearing his name caused a tear to escape an eye before I could react. I was embarrassed by my reaction. “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching for the napkin on my lap.
Alex smiled at me and nodded. “We never met Jack,” he said. “But we feel like we know him because of the wonderful people we’ve met because of him.”
“Just think of your son when it comes to Jack. I’m as bewildered as anyone by this, but they are so alike,” I stated. “And I actually knew Jack for nearly twenty years. The similarities are uncanny.”
Maggie cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her chair. She wasn’t combative, but seemed to have something to say. She glanced toward Alex before speaking, and his face gave no objection, so she proceeded.
“Do you think that’s why you dismissed Chad last week?” she asked.
“Maggie!” Alex exclaimed. “Cole doesn’t need to explain his reasoning.”
I held my free hand up. “The question is a fair one,” I began, smiling toward Maggie while still holding her hand. “Like I said, he caught me off guard. I mean, what are the odds?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Alex asked.
“The odds that I’d move here. That I’d meet Chad. That he’d recognize my best friend in a picture after just ten minutes of meeting him,” I said, running down a list of odd coincidences. “Or better yet, that I’m sitting here talking to people I’d never personally met that also knew of Jack. Like, really? What are the odds?” I asked incredulously.
Maggie and Alex’s eyes connected before they turned back to me, amusement written all over their faces. “Yes. What are the odds?” they said in unison.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Chad
Three Months Ago
I swiped Spanish moss from David’s headstone, looking up at a huge southern live oak tree that famously sheds the stuff all over the south.
“He left me,” I spoke, outlining the letters of David’s name on the granite marker. “I sort of thought he was the one. I guess I was wrong, David.”
I noticed the gravesite next to my dead boyfriend’s eternal resting place had recently been disturbed. The dual headstone had one name left where the death date had not been chiseled yet, but the rectangular spot of freshly turned soil showed that the date was just a formality at this point.
