Tales for The Telling... by Walker Kincade

Author:Walker Kincade
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Walker Kincade
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Once home, I applied for a job at the architectural firm I had mentioned to Ari. I had been told by Bill Collins, the architect who owned the firm, that I would have a job there upon graduation. I liked working for him. He had an athletic build with a salt-and-pepper ring of hair encircling his balding head. Taller than me by several inches, he exuded authority and confidence. His jovial manner belied his no-nonsense approach to the management of his firm.

Shortly before graduation, I had called and told him about the Peace Corps, and he had encouraged me to apply at his office when I got back; he would hire me if there was enough work to justify it.

I had just started to sit down in the waiting area when Mr. Collins called me into his office.

“Jon, it’s good to see you. Have a seat,” he said as he motioned toward a chair in front of his desk. “Back from the Peace Corps?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you do there?”

I briefly told him about the clinic and school, but I left out the part about Kirani.

“Very good,” he said with emphasis. “Well, Jon, we are busy and could use your help—but I need to know your intentions.”

“My intentions?” I hadn’t told anyone other than family about Kirani just yet.

“Yes. Your intentions. You remember Matt?”

Matt was a classmate one year behind me in school, and he had interned at the firm with me the summer before my final year at college. I nodded.

“Well,” he continued, “Matt came with us when he graduated and stayed only two months, while he was looking for a job in Atlanta. He used us as a bridge until he found the job he really wanted. I was very disappointed in him. A good firm is loyal to its staff, and expects loyalty returned. Perhaps you now understand why I am interested in your intentions.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that about Matt,” I said. I told him I wasn’t going anywhere, that I liked working at his office, and in fact needed the job because I was getting married. I told him about Kirani and our planned wedding date in about six months. He acknowledged the news with a smile and a word of congratulations. He said married staff were steadier.

“Very good, Jon. Thanks for letting me know.” He stood and offered his hand with a smile. “You start tomorrow morning, eight o’clock sharp.”

I shook his hand as I thanked him and left, relieved to have that settled.

I rented a small house a little way out of town with some land around it, and generally prepared my folks for future events. Dad had not been impressed with my decision. Surely there were plenty of nice girls from the States—someone from so far away was likely to not do well “out of home waters.” The fact that he had married my mother, who was raised in Brazil where her folks were missionaries, was “beside the point.” At least he accepted the decision as mine to make and would not withhold his blessing.

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