Shadows flittered across floral-etched glass. Click. Click. The door swept open. “Vilhelm, come in my friend.” He took Jurek’s outstretched hand and exchanged a firm handshake.
“Aye my friend,” said Wilhelm. “Yer hospitality is much appreciated.”
They stepped inside and Jurek pushed the door shut behind them. He reached up and snapped two deadbolt locks.
“Is she here?” asked Wilhelm. He hadn’t seen Maiya, Jurek’s twenty-year-old daughter, since she left for college. She had come home for the first time during spring break, but Jurek failed to adjust to her newly acquired look and values. It took several weeks for him to calm back to his normally jovial self.
“In the kitchen,” said Jurek. He shot a can-you-believe-that grin. “Shall we head into my study? I got a great Macallan Scotch on the rocks for you—straight from Scotland.”
“Aye, a great brand indeed. But, I’m afraid those days are behind me.”
“Your loss my friend.” Jurek shook his head. “The vorld is changing around me and I don’t know how to adapt.”
“Says one of the two men responsible for changing the creation of mankind.” The sassy Maiya Mirinova sauntered into the room. “Hi, Uncle Mac.”
“Maiya, how is my favorite Ivy Leaguer?” He opened his arms wide. Memories of Maiya jumping into his arms as a tween spiked his pulse.
Maiya stepped up to him, put her hands on his shoulder, and kissed him on both cheeks. She turned and walked back to the kitchen.
Ice snaked down Wilhelm’s spine when he saw the white swath of hair cascading down the back of her raven black hair. The visual reminder of the tension between her and Jurek last spring.
“Can you believe she claims that just appeared one day,” said Jurek. “A gift from her spirit guide.” He snorted held out his hand toward the dining room. “Shall we devour some turkey?”
Get to know Wilhelm better . . .
This Thanksgiving story takes place in 2014, six years before In The Image of Man.