Never Again – 18

 

"Hot sausage? You sure you can stomach it, rich boy?"

"Yeah, can you?"

"You bet, but today I'm in the mood for a catfish po'boy, with a side of sweet potato fries."

"Uh huh." Joseph grinned knowingly when he watched the waitress walk away after taking their orders.

Cal scowled at him. "You calling me a liar?"

"Now why would I do that? I don't know you well enough to say one way or the other."

"Ain't going to, either," Cal muttered, taking a long pull on his beer before setting the bottle down again.

Joseph was very tempted to reply 'Thank God'. He resisted only because he didn't really want to make an enemy of the man sitting across from him. Last night he had read all the information in the thick folder Cal had given him and came away impressed with Rebuild NOLA and its aims. From what he could tell, Cal was the mainstay behind the organization, putting all his time and energy into it, taking only enough out to pay for his cheap apartment and the essentials he needed to live on.

There was almost nothing in the files about the man himself. Jennifer had been correct when she'd said he was very reclusive, as Joseph discovered when he did his own Internet search on Cal Gilbert. All he'd learned was he had been born up north, joined the Army when he was eighteen, and had served primarily in Iraq until two years ago. As far as he could tell, Cal had left with an honorable discharge when he was twenty-six, which would make him twenty-eight now. He looks older, but maybe being in the military did that. Although… Joseph shook his head sadly. The last time I was really aware of soldiers they were all so young.

"Something wrong," Cal asked, bringing Joseph back to the present.

"No. Just a fleeting thought."

Cal cocked an eyebrow but didn't pry, which was just as well. Joseph wasn't willing to elucidate on where his thoughts had gone.

Their food arrived then and they ate in silence. Afterward, they returned to the house.

By the time evening arrived, Joseph was more than willing to call it a day. On the other hand, when Cal hinted as they returned to Rebuild NOLA he didn't need to come back the next day, Joseph made it quite clear he intended to see the job through to completion. Cal seemed surprised, so Joseph added, "I may be a 'rich boy', as you insist on calling me, but I don't quit in the middle of something, no matter what."

Cal nodded. "Then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Definitely."

* * * *

"I feel like something the cat dragged in after I'd run a marathon," Joseph told the koi as he ate his supper by their pond in the backyard. "But damned if I'm going to walk away. Cal's doing a good thing and I want to be a part of it, not just financially but physically."

He had already written out a sizable check to help fund Rebuild NOLA, which he would give Cal tomorrow. And hope he doesn't sneer at it or me. 'Rich boy' might be true but I earned it fair and square, even if it did take a century and a half, more or less.

Leaning back on his hands, he stared up at the star-filled sky above him. I suppose I should count myself one of the lucky ones. I've been able to make a positive difference in the world, albeit a small one. I've had love, true love, which comes rarely to a person, I think. I live well. I'm content, as much as anyone can be. I have friends, a few of them, and family. Compared to what I've seen in the last few days, or perhaps more to the point, what I've finally become aware of because it's always been there, yeah, I'm damned lucky.

For a brief moment his emotions spiraled downward. If I only had someone to share it with. Then he shook his head sharply. I chose my life after Rawleigh died. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it. "Alone," he said aloud and chuckled softly. "That would be me, the Lonesome Cowboy, although I'm no cowboy and in truth I rarely feel lonesome any more. I guess after all this time I'm used to it. Besides which—" he grinned as he gathered up his dishes and headed back inside, "—being alone means I can leave these until morning and no one will carp at me."

He didn't actually. Being a creature of habit, he washed the dishes, set them in the rack to dry, and then, exhausted, went up to bed. As he fell asleep, he wondered what tortures in the way of work Cal would inflict on him in the morning.