Luckiest Guy
I’m The Luckiest Guy
An excerpt from a novel with the working title “Children of the Con”
Smoke rose from a single chimney of the large, old chateau that sat nestled among the hills in eastern France. Ninety-five percent of the old chateau had been modernized, but the owner wanted this one room to remain mostly as it had been for centuries. It was used mainly for reading or just relaxing. It was sparsely furnished with a comfortable sofa which sat on a large oval rug a few feet from the large fireplace. Two messy stacks of books sat on a long coffee table in front of the sofa. When the owner moved into the chateau it was the only furniture in the room. Now a comfortable old fashioned rocking chair sat on the opposite side of the rug and a small end table sat to the left of the chair. A small tote filled with toys was on the other side of the chair. One toy car had missed the tote and lay between the chair and the tote.
The man known as Neal Devereaux lounged on the side of the sofa farthest from the fireplace. He had on a short sleeve white undershirt and a pair of dark gray sweat pants. His bare feet were propped on the coffee table. A pair of sock-shod feet rested in his lap as he read his book which was titled “How to Parent a Genius”. The feet belonged to his wife, Sara, who lay on the opposite end of the sofa in her favorite silk gown. There were ear buds in her ears as she listened to an audio book of “The Way Things Work Now”. Her thought was that one needed to be prepared for the millions of questions from their four year old Constance and their three year old Conrad.
As they took in the words from their respective books Neal absent-mindedly massaged Sara’s feet, eventually removing the socks to run his hands over her bare feet and at times up higher on her calves. A low groan came from the floor under Neal’s legs. It was St. George the Great Pyrenees dog who along with Dragon the cat had come into their lives eleven months earlier as a young pup and a kitten. Dragon was asleep in the rocking chair on the other side of the room.
Even though Sara was listening to her book her eyes were almost always on the profile of her husband. His long jawline and electric blue eyes were something she never got tired of seeing. His silky dark hair looked amazing even when he woke up in the mornings. She had been attracted to him the moment she saw a photo of him in an FBI office in New York City when she was a young insurance investigator. However, at that time they had been adversaries and being romantically involved with him never entered her mind.
Sara closed her eyes and smiled as a funny comment was made in her book. Sara was close to drifting off when she felt that she was being watched. When she opened her eyes, Neal was looking fully at her with that wide grin of his plastered on his face.
“What?” Sara questioned.
“I’m the luckiest guy,” Neal spoke softly as he seemed to be watching an old scene in his mind. Sara smiled at him as he leaned forward and stroked her strawberry blond hair.
Finally, Neal spoke. “Do you remember the night after Peter and I were kidnapped by Vincent Adler?”
“Alex?”
“No, when Peter made us go to his house for Elizabeth’s Cornish hens. Remember Peter and I were still at the table talking while you and Elizabeth talked on the couch?”
“Yes. It was a good talk we had,” Sara replied thoughtfully.
Neal got distracted and cocked his head sideways. “What were you talking about? Me?”
“Well, yes,” Sara spoke with a sly smile.
“That’s what Peter said you were talking about. Then he told me a story about a similar scene to what we are experiencing right now, and he called himself ‘the luckiest guy’. I told him I didn’t think that was me. I thought I could never have that.” Neal paused and looked around him.
He looked back at Sara and continued, “But I am…” He looked up into Sara’s hazel eyes and his bliss was complete.
“I’m the luckiest guy.”