The Waiting Game Read Free Page B

you," she said cautiously. "Some of my uncle’s old acquaintances aren’t the sort with whom you want to get involved on a first-name basis."
    "You’ve met a lot of them?" Adrian inquired politely.
    "Well, no. But Uncle Lowell has told me about a few of them." Sara shuddered delicately, remembering one particular tale. "He’s got a great collection of stories and personal recollections, although he always changes names and locations to protect the guilty. I suppose he’s mentioned a few of the more colorful characters to you if you used him as resource material for Phantom."
    "We’ve shared a few beers and talked on occasion," Adrian admitted.
    "You see a lot of my uncle?"
    Adrian moved his hand in a vague gesture. "He doesn’t live that far away. I get out to his place once in a while and sometimes he makes it over here. What about you? See a lot of him?"
    Sara grinned. "Not as much as I would have liked over the years. I’m afraid Uncle Lowell has always been considered the black sheep of the family. As you can imagine, though, I found him quite
    fascinating. He was the unconventional relative, the one who had the mysterious career, the one who showed up when you least expected him. He was unpredictable, and kids like that, I suppose. The rest of the family thought he was a bad influence on me and, of course, that made him all the more
    interesting."
    Adrian leaned back against the sofa, slanting her a glance. "Why did they think he was a bad influence?"
    "Because he always encouraged me to do what I wanted to do, not what my family wanted. And he had a way of understanding me, of knowing what I was thinking. He told me two years ago, for instance, that I wasn’t going to be happy for long as a mid-level manager in a large corporation. Said I didn’t have the proper corporate personality. He was right. I think I knew it at the time but everything seemed to be on track and running smoothly in my life. I was living the perfect yuppie life-style, and to be honest, it had its moments."
    "Yuppie? Oh, yes–" Adrian nodded. "–Young Urban Professional."
    Sara gave him another laughing smile. "I was into the whole scene down in California. I had a lifetime membership in the right athletic club, dressed for success, had my apartment done in the high-tech look and kept up with the trends in food. I ground my own coffee beans for my very own imported Italian espresso machine, and I can tell you the precise moment when pasta went out and Creole cooking came in, if you’re interested."
    "No, thanks. I eat a lot of macaroni and cheese. I don’t want to hear that it's ‘out.’ So Lowell advised you to dump the yuppie life?"
    "Macaroni and cheese does not count as real pasta," she told him forcefully. "Yuppie pasta is stuff such as linguini and calamari or fettuccini Alfredo. And, yes, Uncle Lowell did advise me to dump the yuppie life. Along with the yuppie males I was dating at the time," Sara confided cheerfully. "I think he thought they were all wimps. He said none of the ones I introduced him to would be of any use in a crunch. I explained I didn’t plan to get into any crunches but he just shook his head and told me to come visit him when I came to my senses."
    Adrian regarded her assessingly. "And that’s why you went to his place today? To tell Lowell you’d come to your senses?"
    Sara stirred a little restlessly on the couch, tucking one jeaned leg under her as she shifted her focus back to the fire. "Something like that. I quit my job last week. I think I'm going through a mid-life crisis."
    "You’re a little young for that, aren’t you?"
    Sara ignored the underlying trace of humor in his question. "Don’t patronize me. I just turned thirty. As it happens, I’ve been through several mid-life crises and I know them when I see them. I’m ready to make some changes in my life again."
    "You’re sure that change is what you want?" Adrian got to his feet to throw a bigger log on the fire.
    "Oh, yes," she