But what did his father think of _him_? I didn't wimp out or fall in
and die, anyway, he told himself. Muni had seemed guardedly approving.
Hard to tell. Perhaps Muni had felt himself on trial, as well. He
hadn't shown it. An architect--that was interesting. Oliver had a
strong visual sense that had never found a satisfactory outlet. His
work had always been secondary in some way. Teaching math and
programming had kept him going, but he felt unused, wasted. Maybe he
should have been an architect. At least, now, he knew where his visual
ability came from.
Oliver mused over his drink and avoided opening the envelope in his
pocket. He ate a piece of salmon grilled over alder chips and drank a
glass of Oregon Sauvignon Blanc. The waiter brought a double espresso.
Oliver opened the envelope with misgivings.
There was a check and a note:
Oliver, if I give this to you, it is because you are my son. I can not
know until I meet you. I plan to be back home in Kamakura after the
first of the year. Maybe you will visit. Years after 50 are extra. Who
knows what will happen? My thoughts are with you. Muni
The check was for $72,000. Oliver stared at the numbers.
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