had started after breakfast and was still in progress at three in the afternoon. Properties had been bought and skylines built. The pair fought for domination.
Abby held her property cards fanned close to her face like a seasoned poker player, but her face told Josh she was pleased with herself. Occasionally she confided conspiratorially with her adviser, Wiener. He was meant to be representing the bank, but Josh was sure the dog knew something he didn’t. He was losing to his daughter.
“Is that dog helping you, Abby?” he said, and raised an eyebrow.
“No, that would be cheating,” she said, and hid her face behind her cards and giggled. “Your go.”
Josh smiled at Abby. He picked up the dice and
rolled them. A five and a two.
“Damn! Not again.” This was the third time he’d
been sent to the Traffic Jam square. He moved his riverboat piece to the square.
Abby erupted into laughter and Wiener barked in
support.
“No two hundred dollars, no passing Go, Daddy,”
she squealed in delight and hugged the dachshund.
“Josh, I can’t believe you’re getting upset over losing to your daughter and the dog,” Kate said, hoping to inject some sanity into the situation.
“That’s the third time I’ve been on that damn Traffic Jam square in the last five circuits. That must be against the odds, and I bet that’s gonna cost me another hundred bucks to get out,” he said in dismay.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll be around for consolation hugs for the loser, okay?” Kate said to the industrialists at play.
Josh wasn’t really upset. It was all for Abby’s entertainment.
He was actually enjoying himself. His talk
with Bob had lightened his mood and so had his two weeks leave. He wasn’t sure whether the combination of these events contributed to his high spirits, but he hoped so. He was getting back to a normal life, at last.
Abby rolled the dice. A double six. She giggled again.
“What games do you play at school?” Josh asked.
The doorbell rang.
“Can someone answer that please?” Kate called out.
“If you wouldn’t mind, honey. I’m on the verge of scalping this little upstart,” Josh called back.
“No, he’s not, Mom,” Abby shouted.
“Okay, I’ll answer it, shall I?”
“Mommy’s never understood business, not like us
chickens,” Josh said.
Wiener yawned and licked his nose.
Kate opened the door and spoke to the visitor on the porch. Her tone was one of confusion and alarm. “Are you sure you have the right address?”
Josh looked up from the game. Abby, oblivious to
her mother’s remarks, counted off her move around the perimeter of the board.
“Josh, would you come here a minute?” Kate called.
Getting up, he asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Don’t go Daddy, it’s your turn,” Abby said.
“I’ll be back in a minute, honey,” he said over his shoulder.
Kate turned toward him. Her expression was one of shock. A delivery boy in his early twenties stood on the porch with a confused look on his face.
“What’s up?” Josh slipped an arm around his wife’s waist in a statement of solidarity.
“I have a delivery for the Michaels’s household. I’m very sorry for your loss, please accept my condolences,”
the young man said in a solemn tone, but bewilderment furrowed his brow.
He proffered the delivery, a funeral wreath, for Josh to accept. Josh couldn’t believe what the guy held in his hands and took an involuntary step backward.
“Is this a joke?” Josh demanded, his grip on his temper slipping.
“No, sir,” the delivery boy said.
Josh looked at the boy dressed in a yellow and green windbreaker and peered over his shoulder at the van parked in the street. The van was from Forget-Me-Not Florists and displayed a free phone number and a local address. Appearances seemed to be honest enough; the delivery boy wasn’t bogus. Josh looked back at the boy.
“It’s for the recently departed Josh Michaels,” the driver continued. He made another attempt to give the wreath to Josh.
“I’m Josh Michaels and I’m not fucking dead.” Josh exploded at the expense of the messenger. The delivery boy took two steps back from the force of the blast.
“Josh, for Christ’s sake, he didn’t send it,” Kate said.
“Who sent it?” Josh demanded.
The shaken Forget-Me-Not boy removed the card
from the wreath to read it.
“Pinnacle Investments, sir,” he said, offering the card to Josh.
Josh snatched the card from the delivery boy, almost removing a couple of fingers in the process. The boy snapped his arm back in reflex. Josh read the handwritten card:
To the Michaels family,
Please accept our heartfelt sympathies in your
time of loss.
Pinnacle Investments
“Why did they order this?” Josh shouted.
“I don’t know, sir.” The delivery boy took another step backward, the wreath still outstretched.
“Josh, leave him alone. He doesn’t know anything.”
Kate snatched up her purse and moved between her
husband and the scared driver.
“My husband has had a very traumatic time over the last few days. I’m very sorry.”
She took the wreath and got a ten-dollar bill from her purse. She gave it to the boy and apologized to him again.
The driver took the money and thanked her, but
his gaze was on Josh. He was wary just in case Josh launched into another attack. He marched back to
his van, muttering obscenities as he went.
Kate closed the door.
“What’s your problem?” she demanded. “What was
all that about? That poor bastard didn’t know anything.”
“I wanted to know what was going on. What do Pinnacle Investments think they are playing at sending me a wreath? Why did they think I was dead?” Josh shouted.
“And bawling out some kid helps, does it?” Kate
said, shouting almost as loud as Josh.
He hesitated and bit down his rage. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Who is Pinnacle Investments anyway?” she demanded.
Josh
caught himself before he said something damaging.
He couldn’t afford to tell Kate the truth. In the moment he took to compose the lie, rationality took over and the rage subsided. “I have my life insurance with them,” he said, his anger receding with every word.
“Well, I suggest you take it up with Bob, he’s your insurance agent,” she said.
