Barking wafted through the window as James reached the bottom of the stairs which was of the tone that suggested the dogs were calling an arrival to his attention, as they often sounded more aggressive when they were telling off the wildlife.
Mom emerged from the dining room and looked at him. “I get what you mean.”
“About what?” James asked, completely flummoxed.
“How that vehicle would fit in on a safari,” Mom replied.
“But it’s not Tuesday!” James exclaimed. “I told him Tuesday. That doesn’t sound like tomorrow, does it?”
“Not after the T, no,” Mom replied, before disappearing into the kitchen.
Sighing wearily, James ran his fingers through his hair and headed for the back door, where he slid on his boots and placed his hat atop his head before stepping out of the door that opened straight onto the veranda which formed something of a C shape around all of the house except the east side, where the side door that led to the garden was.
Mr. Baron was in a similar outfit to the day before, but the shirt was different, making him look less like some aging, but still wanting to be hip, rockstar, and more like someone who was still rather urbane, but wanted to live in the country, which was obviously what was sought by Mr. Baron.
He looked to be heading for the front door until he saw James step down from the rear stairs, then he altered his course and walked toward James.
“Good afternoon,” he said, once again with joviality.
“This isn’t Tuesday,” James replied simply, letting annoyance tighten his voice.
“No, no it isn’t,” Mr. Baron said, seeming like he’d been caught off-guard by James’ response to his greeting. “You see, Tuesday at one doesn’t work for me, as I need to get my kids from the airport around that time and I just wouldn’t be back, and it’d be too much rushing and stress.”
Irritation rankled James; he had a phone, and his number was in the book.
“Well, then I guess you’re going to have to arrange a suitable time with my secretary,” James snapped. “Good day Mr. Baron.”
“Your secre– Is he talking about you?” Mr. Baron asked.
James didn’t look back until he was inside the barn and could do so through one of the windows, which showed Nathaniel talking to Mr. Baron, as Nathaniel had come out the door while Mr. Baron had been talking, and James had decided that he didn’t want to talk to Mr. Baron anymore, so since a more socially inclined person was behind him, he’d delegated the task.
What was most irritating to James was the fact that in a world of phones, Mr. Baron hadn’t thought to get a phone book or maybe there was even a digital phone book somewhere that would allow him to find the number listed under James’ name and just call. Why did he have to drive over here even for something as little as ‘that time doesn’t work for me?’
No comments:
Post a Comment