The Warmest Winter, Day 07

"Eureka!" he shouted after some time, startling the women. They got up from their positions around the den, and gathered at the office door when he came out. His face was lit, and his grin was wide.

"Come on, let's sit in the dining room!" They complied, having never seen him so excited, not even about thatFireflyTV show, which said a lot. They also wondered about his change in attitude since not two hours before.

Once they sat, Mike pointed at Jenny. "You have a therapy theory. A sound one, a damn sound one. But what you need to implement it, to get patients helped by it, is a business. Academia is not your friend until you have proven the validity of your techniques, and even then it'll be a fight."

"How can I get a business around it? I'm just the therapist!" Jenny objected.

"You need a specialized space, probably even a location with specific characteristics."

"Okay, so?"

"Know any good real estate developers?"

Cassie gasped. That was her major.

"She can take over basic operations once the real estate side is down," Mike said, "And she can easily handle expansion of the real estate, which I am confident will occur."

"But I don't know how to run a business!" Jenny continued.

"I do," said Veronica. "Don't you see what he's getting at?"

Jenny's eyes narrowed at Mike, "Are you serious?"

Mike rolled his eyes, "No, Jenny, I think the best bet for your future is to rent an ice cream truck and work the Yukon neighborhoods."

"Ha. Ha. Sarcasm noted, jackass." She stuck her tongue out at him to show she didn't mean the insult.

"Veronica is perfect," Mike continued, "She handles the business angles, basically the CEO, the chief executive officer. Cassie would be chief operations officer. You would be the owner. In day-to-day terms, Veronica would be front-of-house, utilizing her hostess skills, and Cassie would be behind the scenes. You, Jenny, would be the main attraction."

Cassie snickered, "InNext Genterms, I'm the yellowshirt, Veronica's the redshirt, and Jenny's the blueshirt!"

"Come on, Cass," said Jenny, "Do you realize how crazy this sounds?"

"Actually it doesn't," said Veronica, and Cassie nodded in agreement. "I only wish I had thought of it myself, sooner."

"But that wouldn't have brought you here," Mike said, "Because there's one thing no business can do without, especially aventurelike this one." He said the word "venture" pointedly at Veronica.

"Capital," she said, making the connection. Venture capitalists were those who funded new businesses. Being the business administration major, she would be intimately familiar with the phrase.

"Wait," Veronica continued, "Are you offering to give us money?"

"Hell, no," said Mike, with mock offense, "I'm buying myself a seat on the board. If I'm supplying the money, I'm seeing that it's well-spent. As chief financial officer, it's my own company my money will be going towards, not the individuals."

"Why?" Jenny whispered. There were tears in her eyes.

"I believe in what you're doing. I believe you can do it, and if you're given a chance, you'll change the way people think about recovery, and do a Hell of a lot of good. Besides, we're all looking for a better future, and this one's a damn sight better than a lot of others we could have. So what do you say, Jenny? Would you be glad for the chance for us to work together?"

Recognizing her own words, Jenny smiled. "Yes. Let's give it a shot."

Veronica and Cassie cheered. They were obviously on board.

"Look, it'll take years of planning, and further education for at least two of you, but trust me, it'll be worth it. And we'll be together every step of the way."

"Stop selling it, man, we've already bought the product!" Veronica laughed. In celebration, Mike brought up a bottle from the basement, some expensive vintage. He only had two finer- one he was saving for his wedding, the other for the birth of his first child, should he have either someday.

They toasted and chatted and dreamed crazy dreams until the bottle ran out, and then they all staggered upstairs to their bedrooms.

As Mike flopped into bed, having nearly fallen over while he undressed, he thought about calling his lawyer to see about legal consultations for the venture.

Lawyer. Rick! Nice guy. Party guy. Ooh, party. Parties were good. Rick was good. That wine was really good. Was it wine? It tasted kinda strong. Maybe he forgot to look at the label. But it wasfun. Hey, Rick was fun. No, Rick was a moodkiller. So serious. That last phone call. What was Rick so serious about? Nothing. It was probably nothing.

Mike drifted off to sleep, and dreamed of Cassie, Veronica, and Jenny, all wearing zebra-print bathing suits, giving his Hummer a wet, soapy carwash. Outside the windows, the snow continued to melt.