another pass. Just as he was getting to the end of the line, he spotted an unshaven, tired looking man with a carry-on.
“Hey, big guy!” he greeted him. “So, you did well, young Skywalker. I can’t friggin’ believe it!”
“I nailed it, man, but it must have been what Dad said after I left the room that clinched the deal. Do you realize that we now have to put on the press conference of our lives?”
“I do, but I need to let you know that Bongero kind of went ballistic when he found out his main creative guy wasn’t at the so- called mandatory meeting yesterday. The meeting that was supposed to fire up the employees into a super working unit or some shit like that.”
“I figured,” Nick said. “So how was it?”
“I really don’t know,” Jerry said as he merged onto Interstate 85. “I slept through most of it.”
*****
They arrived at Nick’s house about five-thirty in the afternoon. Nick needed a shower and a nap. He needed to collect his thoughts. He had just stepped into the biggest campaign of his life and he felt a bit overwhelmed with logistics. How would they handle multiple claims of cures? What if they got laughed out of town at the press conference? What if a foreign entity had the magic potion—would they receive the reward in U.S. dollars? What about translators? What if some of the insurance companies reneged? What if this was just a lesson in futility? So many questions, so few answers.
He entered the house, quiet with Sal still in Las Vegas and lacking the smell of dinner being prepared in the kitchen. He threw his bag onto the chair in the living room, headed upstairs, and had just stripped down when he heard his cell phone ring.
“Hi, Shelly.” “You home?”
“Sure am. I’m about to jump in the shower.” “You’re alone?’
“I hope so,” he said. “Where are you?”
“At the hospital, sitting with Mary and going over some files.” “How is she?”
“Weak, but stable, and that’s a good thing.”