Wednesday Read Free

feet in the tech world, working with VCs on ideas
for my next start-up. I basically work around the clock and hardly have a
moment to myself.
    After I have Dad’s meds taken care
of, we go through his exercises. Then I turn on his TV program and go to work.
    The next two hours fly by as I
calculate commissions for the sales people, sign off on payroll, and order
supplies. Most entrepreneurs that I know hate day-to-day business – they can’t
focus. They are big picture people. For me, I don’t mind it. I can do both,
which is an asset when trying to get companies to invest in my ideas. I speak
their language. One reason why I had already created and sold three companies
before I hit twenty-one. Too bad, I continue to sink my profits into the next
best thing. It’s an addiction that doesn’t provide stability, something that drives
my father insane, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop. Or that I want
to.
    After finishing with all the
tactical work, I work on our exit strategy – without Dad’s permission – listing
potential buyers to take over the business as well as the option of selling it
off in parts. I’m open to all and have to make sure Dad is too. He does well
for himself, but it’s time to let the business go. Time for payback and, I’m
not going to lie, I’m so ready to cash in. The money will help fund my new
project – a social media idea I’ve been working on since high school, actually.
A niggling idea that was always in the back of my mind, even when I was
neck-deep in other ventures.
    “Tristan,” Heddy says, jarring me
from my daydream. “How’s the old buzzard doing today?” she asks.
    Heddy is always a wonderful sight – plump, warm, and cheerful. Not to mention she smells like cookies.
After Mom left, she was so good to us, bringing over dinner, baking my birthday
cakes, dropping off presents at Christmas. I don’t know why she stood by my
dad, but I’m so thankful she did.
    These days, she’ll check in on him
several times a week. We also have nurses who stop by, but only for a short
time. That’s the thing. Dad doesn’t want to be in the care of strangers. That’s
the whole purpose of our deal.
    But on Wednesday, thank all that’s
holy for Wednesday, Heddy gives me the night off. The entire night. She insists
on it. She’ll arrive before dinner and stay until breakfast the next day. If I
didn’t know better, I might have thought Pops was getting a little on the side,
but who was I kidding?  He needs help making it to the bathroom. 
    The first thing I do after Heddy
takes over every Wednesday is go to the grocery store. I pick up the biggest
steak I can find, grab a growler of craft beer from the local brewery, and head
to the beach house. I tried to talk Dad into moving out there for the summer,
but the place wasn’t really set up for someone with medical needs.
    Sometimes I work, but mostly I
enjoy the entire evening off. Free from any obligations, I run on the beach,
watch movies, and read.
    This particular Wednesday, however,
the air is sucked from my lungs and I spend the rest of the night wound tighter
than Heddy’s girdle.
    When I first spot her, I can’t help
but appreciate the view. I make my way past the produce to the butcher when a
petite brunette with long, silky hair in a pair of low-slung yoga pants, that
hug all her curves to perfection, catches my attention.
    She is spectacular.
    I actually stop right then and
there and pretend to select apples, so I can enjoy the view a little longer.
Jesus, I’m pathetic. It might actually be time to consider a local hook-up,
just so I can get my head on right.
    She turns around and my eyes go
straight to her two ripe melons. Seriously. She’s holding two cantaloupes,
judging which one is better. Cheesy jokes and lame pick-up lines run through my
head. It’s so ridiculous, I laugh. A booming chuckle that has her looking up,
curious about the racket I’m making. Once her eyes meet mine, the laughter