Matchmaker 11: November

Milli looked at me. "Water," I responded since I couldn't get a decent glass of sweetened iced tea anywhere north of the Mason-Dixon line.

"I'll bring it right out."

I picked up the menu and glanced over it. It was the typical diner fair of burgers, open faced sandwiches, breakfast items, and other comfort food. I smiled to myself as Sage wrinkled her nose. I'd noticed she unconsciously did that when something didn't meet her approval, though she rarely said anything.

She was an interesting mix of easy going and opinionated. She never complained and readily went along with anything I wanted to do, but I'd learned that if I asked her opinion on something, I'd better want it because she didn't mind telling me. What I found most amusing was how out of touch she was with anything outside of big city life.

"You have any suggestions?" she asked without looking up from her menu.

"I bet their meatloaf is good," I suggested, knowing the response I'd get.

"Forget it."

I snickered. Being that I was a novice cook, I was learning on simple recipes, like meatloaf. When I suggested that as a dinner entrée one night, I'd discovered that she had an unmitigated hatred of meatloaf dating back to childhood. According to her, her mother prepared meatloaf at least once a week and she'd firmly stated she'd rather go hungry than ever eat meatloaf again. I smiled in memory. We'd had a Mexican casserole instead.

"I think I'll have the open face sandwich."

I saw her eyes flick around the menu. "That?" she asked, dropping her menu flat on the table and pointing at the picture. I nodded. "That looks disgusting!"

"Don't knock it until you try it."

She looked at me before a smile danced on her lips and she slowly shook her head. "Is there anything you won't eat?"

"Nothing," I rumbled, holding her gaze until she smiled and picked her menu up again.

"Thank God for that."

"Ready to order?" Milli asked when she returned with our drinks.

"I'll have the Rueben with a side salad, Ranch dressing," Sage said as she folded her menu.

"Want that hot?"

"Sure."

"You, sir?"

"The open face roast beef sandwich with fries."

"Gravy on the fries?"

"Absolutely!"

"I'll have that right out."

"How do you not get fat eating like that?" Sage asked when Milli was out of hearing range.

I grinned at her. "I just have to get plenty of exercise," I said, pitching my voice down slightly so my tone said as much as my words.

She smiled back at me. "Thank God for that, too," she said as she gave my leg a single caress under the table with her foot.

Our food arrived with almost fast-food swiftness, Milli placing two heavy sounding white plates in front of us before returning to top off our barely touch drinks.

I watched as Sage bit into her sandwich. "How is it?"

She nodded as she chewed and wiped the dressing from her lips. "Better than I expected."

"See? Want to try this?"

"Not really."

"Come one," I teased. "Live dangerously."

My sandwich had arrived with the fries piled over the top of the sandwich and the whole thing drenched in brown gravy. I'd never seen a sandwich served that way before, and I thought it was an interesting presentation. I cut off a corner, making sure the bite had bread, meat, fries, and gravy so she'd have the complete experience, and pushed the plate in her direction. With a heartfelt sigh, she stabbed the morsel with her fork and popped it into her mouth. She smiled as she swallowed.

"It tastes a lot better than it looks, that's for sure."

I cut off a bite for myself and tried it. The beef was thick and tender, the gravy likewise thick and perfectly seasoned, and the fries added an interesting texture and twist on the classic sandwich.

"Oh, that's good," I purred.

"You staying in that big place out on the lake?" an older man seated at a table across from us asked, pulling my attention from Sage. His tone was pleasant enough, but his eyes weren't friendly.

"Maybe," I replied. "I'm not sure which place you're talking about."

"I think I've seen you walking there. Big log cabin on the other side of the lake."

"Maybe," I shrugged.

"That your place?"

"No. We're renting it for the month."

The man grunted. "I remember when Hank Griddly owned that piece of land."

I glanced at Sage, wondering where this conversation was going. She was clearly as confused as I was. "Sorry. I don't know Mr. Griddly."

"All you rich city folk coming out here, buying up all the lake property and then closing it off. It's getting so a man can't get to the lake he's been fishing on for forty years."

"Sorry, Mr...?"

"Randolph. John Randolph."

"As I said, Mr. Randolph, I'm just renting the cabin. You'll have to take your concerns up with the owner."

"Well, I would if I knew who it was. That's the other problem. You people think you're better than us, people who've been living here their whole lives. You come here, offer people a big pile of money so you can build these big fancy houses, houses that drive up the property values so regular folks don't have a chance, but then you think you're too good to mix with the people in town. I don't think that's right."

People were starting to look at us. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Mr. Randolph, but as is said, I'm only renting the place."

"Mind telling me who owns it?"

"I don't know. The rental was handled through an agency."

John grunted. "Naturally. Nobody does anything for themselves anymore. You have money, you just pay someone to do everything for you, isn't that right? Want to drive the little guy out? Pay someone to do it so you don't get your hands dirty. Then you come in here—"

"Let it go, John," another man at the table said. "He hasn't done anything."

"Hasn't done anything?" John sneered. "It's people like him that are changing everything! They're buying up all the land and closing off the lake. Pretty soon they'll own that too. I used to go ice fishing on that lake with my grandfather. Hell, Hank and I used to go ice fishing right off that piece of property not five years ago, but not now. After he sold the property, I never see him anymore. Pretty soon no one will be able to use the lake except for all these rich people, and they're probably too good to touch a live fish."

I didn't know what to say to the man other than what I'd said to him previously. "As I said, Mr. Randolph, I suggest you take it up with the owners."

"The same owners that nobody sees? The same owners whose names you won't give us?"

I didn't know what John wanted me to do. I didn't own the cabin and I didn't know who did. I forced a smile. "Mr. Randolph, I'd tell you if I knew. Why don't I buy you a cup of coffee and—"

"I don't want your damn coffee!" John snarled, rising to his feet. "You think you can come in here and buy me too, you better think again."

"John! Sit down!" another man at the table said, his voice hard. "You're embarrassing yourself!"

John glared at his two companions. "You two are as bad as he is," he growled before he turned and stomped out.

The man who'd ordered John to sit down looked at me with sympathetic eyes. "Sorry about that. John... we suspect he has Alzheimer's. It seems like it's getting worse, and that's making him... cranky. Hank died a few years back. That's why John hasn't seen him, but he keeps forgetting that." The man sighed a little sadly. "John has it in his mind whoever owns the cabin bought the land from Hank, and Hank moved out of town because he suddenly had money and was too good to live here anymore, when in fact, Hank died and the lot was sold as part of his estate."

"No harm. To show there's no hard feelings, why don't I pick up your lunches?"

"You don't have to do that."

"I insist."

The two men looked at each other and smiled. "Okay, thanks," the first man who spoke to John said as his smile widened. "Suddenly I'll think I'll have a piece of pie."

"Yes, thank you...?" the second man added, his voice trailing off in questioning.

"Bill-Ray. Billy-Ray Ogden," I said with a chuckle of my own.

"Billy-Ray..." the man said slowly. "I knew you weren't from around here as soon as you started talking, but where have I heard that name before?"

"Don't know," I said.

"He owns ECA," Sage said the instant I finished speaking.

The first man snapped his fingers and pointed a finger pistol at me. "That's it. I've seen your commercials on television."

"Maybe you could offer John a free flight somewhere to soothe his feelings," first guy said with a snicker.

"Oh sure. It's like pulling teeth to get him to Duluth," second guy said, causing them both to chuckle.

I knew they were kidding, but I leaned over, pulled out a business card, and handed it across the aisle to the other table. "Have him call me. I'll fly him, and his wife or girlfriend if he has one, round trip anywhere ECA goes."

The two men glanced at each other and shrugged as one of them took the card from my hand. "He's too damned stubborn and prideful to take it, but thanks all the same."

I nodded. "Call it a conciliatory gesture for not being able to help him identify the owners."

After John had stormed out, people ignored us again and we finished our meal in peace. After I paid for everyone's meals, I escorted Sage out.

"Wow! What a jerk! It's not our fault people are buying up lakefront property," she said as we walked across the parking lot to the market.

"I know, but as they said, he isn't well."

"Then he needs to get some help and keep his mouth shut."

"You okay?" I asked.

"It made me mad, him blaming everything on people with money. Maybe if he got off his lazy ass and worked, he'd have money too. Nobody gave you your money, right?"

"I didn't exactly start from scratch either. Not everyone is as lucky as I've been."

"Lucky? Your mother dying from head trauma when you were only, what did you say, six? Your dad dying of a heart attack ten years later? I'd hardly call that lucky."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, but my grandparents are still alive, and they took me in and gave me an education. It could have been worse."

"Yeah, it could have been, but he acted like just because you have money you've never worked. That's bullshit. You were a baggage handler, for Christ's sake! It was all I could do not to tell him to take his preconceived notions and prejudices and shove them up his ass!"

I stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop. "I don't understand why you're so upset over this. Apparently the guy is losing his mind, but even if he's not, he's just a crotchety old fart. Ignore him."

She glared at me a moment and then relaxed, blew out a long, cleansing stream of air, and smiled. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry. I just didn't like how he was talking to you, that's all."

I grinned down at her and kissed her quickly. "It's okay. I was just surprised that you were so upset."

"Yeah. You have a lot more patience and tolerance than I have. A lot more."

I started her walking again. "I just try to remember what's important."

"What's that?"

"People. Not things."

She didn't say anything, and I glanced at her. She was looking up at me with an expression I couldn't identify. "Yeah, you're right."

I stared out of the side window of the Tahoe as the lake played peek-a-boo through the trees. I was still in turmoil from our little encounter in the Ely Eatery. I'd almost slipped up as we stood in the parking lot, nearly telling Will exactly what I thought of Mr. John fucking Randolph's attitude. At the last moment I realized raging about people blaming others for their problems when they weren't willing to do what it took to be successful wasn't something Sage would do. Not the Sage I was presenting to Will, anyway.

I simply couldn't wrap my head around Will. Rather than getting upset for being wrongly accused, he was sympathetic. Granted, he'd taken over an airline from his grandfather, but that didn't mean he'd been handed everything on a silver platter. He'd started out slinging baggage when he was seventeen and had worked his way up from there. Then, once he was sitting in the big chair, he'd taken an operation that was slowly dying and not only turned it around, but he'd made it into a powerhouse. According to him, ECA was now worth six times what it was when he took over.

It pissed me off that just because he was successful people automatically assumed he'd cheated. It was the same attitudes I'd had to deal with in school. I didn't have rich parents to foot my college tuition, and because I didn't want to graduate with a shit load of student debt, I'd done what I had to. I'd worked my ass off, graduated fifth in my class debt free, and I'd done it without any help from anyone. I couldn't care less if Biff and Buffy didn't approve of me or how I'd financed my education.

"Sage? You okay?"

"What?" I asked, looking at him as I extracted myself from my own thoughts.

"I asked if you're okay. You're not still upset about that John guy, are you?"

"No, not really."

"But a little?"

A small smile teased my lips. He was very good at reading people. "Maybe a little. I just don't get people like that."

"Like what?"

"People who blame all their problems on someone else. If he wants access to the lake, why doesn't he buy a piece of property on the lake?"

"Maybe he can't afford it."

"How's that your problem?"

"It's not, but I guess I can understand where he's coming from. Imagine if you'd been doing something for years and then suddenly you weren't able to anymore. Don't you think you'd be a little annoyed or upset?"

"Maybe, but then I'd figure out a way to get what I wanted. If that meant buying property on the lake, then so be it."

"But if you couldn't afford it?"

"Then I'd do what I had to so I could. Failing that, maybe I'd strike up a friendship with someone who already had access to the lake, or I could offer to maintain someone's lawn in exchange. There's always a way."

He smiled. "I agree, and I like your attitude, but sometimes things just don't work out. For example, what if you hadn't been able to get those scholarships? Then what?"

A chill passed over me. I'd told Will I'd paid my way through school with a part-time job and scholarships. I had, but it hadn't been enough to cover my costs, so I'd engaged in other activities to supplement my income.

"I guess I would have had to find another job or something."

"But there's only so much you can do, right? At some point, there's no more hours in the day."

"Then I'd have to find another way. I don't understand why you're defending the guy," I said, trying to steer the conversation away from me.

"I'm not. I'm just saying I can understand his point of view. A lot of people never have enough money to do what they'd like to do. For example, everyone would like to take a vacation, but not everyone can afford to fly. I understand that, and that's what I've used to make ECA so successful." He paused, but I could tell he had more to say, so I waited. "We don't try to be everything to everyone. We cater to one specific customer, the little guy on a budget. We don't fly as many routes or have as many stops as the big carriers, and we cluster most of our flights around the weekends. We have small planes so we can fill them easier and they don't cost as much to operate. We fly out of secondary airports because our fees are much lower there, we fly mostly to where people want to go for vacations, and we don't have a bunch of stops in between. In turn, we pass all those savings on to our customers, but at the same time, we treat them like they're the most important people in the world, because they are. They're the ones who make ECA a success."

"I get that."

"Do you?"

"You think I don't?"

"I sometimes wonder. Not everyone has the abilities you do, Sage. Because you're both smart and mentally tough, you were able to claw your way out of your less than perfect situation. Not everyone is as tough, smart, or gifted."

"That's a cop-out. I think most people don't get what they want because they aren't willing to make the sacrifices required to obtain it."

"I'm not so sure. Sometimes things just don't work out through no fault of your own."

I shook my head. "I don't believe that."

He glanced at me. "Then why am I having to pay Brooklyn Lancaster all this money? It's my fault I haven't found the right person? What do I need to change about myself that's preventing me from finding someone I want to spend the rest of my life with?"

His question stopped me dead in my tracks because I suddenly felt like I was standing in the middle of a minefield. The honest answer was nothing. From what he'd shown me over the past two weeks, he was as near perfect as any man would likely be. But if that was the case, I undermined my own argument.

"I don't know," I said softly.

"If there is something, don't be afraid to tell me. I'd really like to know."

I shook my head. "Nothing I've seen," I murmured.

"But it's still my fault?"

"What do you want me to say, Will?"

"Nothing. I'm just asking questions and challenging you to think about your attitude. I've made it, but that doesn't make me any different than anyone else. I could just as easily be working some job I hate, trying to make ends meet, if Grandpa's airline had failed before I could take it over. Hell, our stock could crash tomorrow, put us into a death spiral I can't save us from, and I'd be there anyway. What then? Would that be my fault? Maybe, but maybe not. You remember the joke I told you?"

"Which one?"

"The quickest way to become a millionaire—"

"Is to be a billionaire and own an airline," I finished for him with a smile. "Yeah, I remember. Do you really think that's going to happen, though?"

"No, but I think about it all the time. There are so many moving parts, and so many ways that things can go wrong, I can't hope to control every aspect. If I thought I could, I'd drive myself crazy, so I do the best I can and try to roll with the punches."

"That's all I'm saying too. If something goes wrong, you react and try to find something else that works. But that wasn't what John was doing, was it?"

"No, but remember, his friends said they thought he was suffering from Alzheimer's. I can cut him a little slack for that."

I sighed. "Maybe you're just a better person than me."

"I don't think so. I think the only problem you have is you've never been out of Chicago."

"Why's that a problem?"

"Because you haven't seen how other people live. For example, how was lunch?"

"Good."

"Were you surprised?"

"A little."

"Why?"

I thought about it and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Is it because you assumed only places like Chicago, New York, and Los Angeles have good restaurants?"

I flushed. It was exactly what I thought. "No."

He smiled at me. "Are you sure?"

"What do you want from me?" I growled, my anger flaring.

"Nothing. I'm just asking questions."

"What about you? Didn't you grow up in Charlotte? That's not exactly a small town, you know."

"Less than a third the size of Chicago, and not even in the top ten, but you're right, it's still a big city. My point isn't where you live, but how you view the world. There's a lot more to this country than a few big cities, and not everyone sees the world the same way."

"Why are you lecturing me?"

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"It's what it feels like."

He took my hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I just want you to understand that sometimes everything isn't so cut and dried. This isn't the first time you've seemed to get hung up on this money thing. Money isn't everything."

I tried. I really did try, but I simply couldn't hold my tongue. "Says the billionaire."