Angie, a live-in-the-now singer-songwriter on the cusp of fame, sweeps Mike, a proper Mama's boy and a structural engineer by day, off his feet the moment they shake hands.
They can't deny the chemistry between them, so they start with a boom. What'...
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▪️Friday, December 11th, 2017▪️
▪️Chicago, IL▪️
I could swear I blinked, and the week flew by between the extra classes at the dojang, nightly staring at my second-hand copy of Structural Analysis: Skills for Practice by James Hanson, and scheduling calls with Angie around her and my schedules, trying to find the moment when both of us are alone. The days with her were singular, exceptional. The days since she left on tour seem like one long gray blur. The last time we talked was two days ago, when she was leaving Kansas City for Denver. The note on my calendar marks 7 to 10 as her concert runtime today. What time zone is Denver? I've learned more about US geography and time zones since the start of Angie's tour than in eighteen years of school.
If it's five here, it's only four there. Maybe she can talk.
Me: I'm headed to the dojang. Call if you want to talk while I'm on my way.
Mom would be pissed if she knew I talked while driving, but if that's the only time I can talk to Angie, I can't help it.
No reply.
I collect my stuff and leave before my boss, who glances at me and at the clock. I know it's early, but it's Friday, and I'm teaching at the dojang again. I race through the traffic jams the cars are sitting in, grateful for my bike. I have ten minutes to change and get ready for the two classes I teach tonight. I spend three checking for messages and finding none.
At eight-thirty, I send the last student home.
"Mike? Mike Stavros?" A petite brunette I recognize instantly greets me when I enter Mr. Chang's office.
"Nancy?"
Master Chang's daughter nods. "I was wondering if you'd know who I was."
I point at the photos on the desk spanning the last fifty years of her mother, her, and her kids. "Is everything alright with Master Chang?"
"He got discharged today. I took him to his place, and he's with a nurse I hired to take care of him. I can't stay in Chicago much longer."
Instead of heading to Ben's place for our Friday Game Night, I lean on the door frame of the office and silence my phone. "What's going on?"
"This won't be an easy conversation." She picks up one of the photos of herself and gives it a sad smile. "I know you've become like a son Dad never had." Nancy fidgets with the straps of her handbag on her lap, not looking up.
"Dad is a stubborn old man, and you know it better than I do, but the doctors agree with me this time, and even though he's never listened to me, he is listening to them. This second heart attack scared him enough to listen." She pauses again, glances up at me, and can't hold my gaze for longer than a second. The sweat from the last class cools into a clammy mess on my skin, aggravating just like this conversation is turning out to be.
