Page 73 of Must Love Flowers
“Am I catching you at a bad time?” She needed his full attention.
“Now’s fine. Is everything okay?”
“It’s great.”
“Glad to hear it. What’s up?”
“I…I’m clearing out some of your father’s things.”
“Good,” he said, sounding encouraged. “That’s a step in the right direction.”
“I gave his clothes to the Salvation Army; they were happy to get them. Your dad had a couple high-end suits.” Both boys were taller and more muscular than Jared. “You didn’t want anything out of his closet, did you?”
“No thanks.” His answer was quick and to the point.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Are you still playing golf?” she asked, thinking Steve might be interested in Jared’s irons.
“On occasion. I work a lot of hours, Mom.”
“You need time to relax.” Everyone needed to get away from the job now and again.
“If I want to get ahead in this company, that means putting in the sweat equity.”
Joan let his words sink in. “There’s more to life than work, son.”
Her words were met with stilted silence. “I know you mean well, but this is beginning to sound like a lecture, Mom.”
“Okay, I won’t mention it again.” Sooner or later her son would recognize what was most important in life, and it wasn’t his job title or how high he rose within the company.
“Good. So…what else is going on?” he pressed.
“Like I said, I’m cleaning out your dad’s things and wanted to know if there was anything you wanted.”
He hesitated and then admitted, “I can’t think of a single thing.”
“I thought for sure you’d want your dad’s golf clubs. You two spent so much time on the golf course. Heaven knows there’s a golf course every few blocks in Arizona.”
“We did,” Steve agreed with a sigh. “I appreciate the offer, Mom, but I don’t have time for golf any longer. I work most weekends now. Give the clubs to Nick.”
“He doesn’t play golf.” It was on the tip of her tongue to comment again on the long hours her son put in at the warehouse. She would if she didn’t want to continue their current conversation.
“Nick’s athletic; he might take it up in the future.”
“What about your father’s tools?”
“Nick will want those.” He sounded impatient now, as if he was eager to get off the phone.
“Isn’t there anything of your father’s that you’d like to have?” It hurt how easily Steve dismissed every effort she made to give him something of his father’s.
Steve paused as if mulling it over. “Not really.”
“Nothing? What about a tie clip or cuff links?”
“Mom,” he said and groaned, as if she was far behind the times. “No one wears that stuff any longer.”
His refusal to hold on to anything from Jared pained her. “I’d hoped you would have some desire to hold on to his memory.”
