“Honey, did you get the clothes? Where are you now?”
The voice from the car speaker was familiar, yet tinged with an unfamiliar warmth and brightness.
“Got them. I ran into Mac just now, so I'm giving him a ride.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.
"Is Mac back? It's been a long time. Why didn't you say earlier that you're having a reunion? Why didn't you invite me?"
I had known Leo Jobb for over ten years and I had never heard him speak like that.
Back then, he was a reserved and quiet man who was pouring himself entirely into painting. When someone stole his spot in a competition, he would just hide away and cry.
It was I who publicly smashed that person's entry with a baseball bat, wrote a letter exposing the competition's corruption and served three days in juvenile detention to get him justice.
Indeed, absolute favoritism breeds deep affection.
“It was just a chance encounter. He has things to do. I'll be back after dropping him off.”
“A chance encounter means we're meant to meet. What's wrong with treating an old friend to a meal?”
"Leo, stop it!"
Silence fell on the other end of the line.