Stormwatch - A Blizzard in Buffalo

by Duleigh

©Copyright 2025 by Duleigh

Chapter 1

It was a cold, dreary December day, gray, damp, slightly foggy, one of those days where it seems like everyone and everything is dreading an upcoming funeral. Yesterday was cold but sunny, the breeze scattered the dry leaves that danced across the street, the sound of their moving filled the air. Today was damp and foggy, the moisture gluing the leaves in place. A Jeep Gladiator pickup pulled up to Dr. Paul Jarecki’s cabin on Trevett Road. It was a green truck, that odd color of olive green that made it look like a military vehicle, unless you’ve been in the military and know what kind of green they use. It even had decorative stencils to add to the military look, but the stencils miss that one thing that would make the stencils look authentic: over spray. It was painted a semi-olive green; the stencils were perfect and straight and the finish was buffed to a gloss. This was not a military vehicle, and the driver was not military, not anymore. United States Air Force Master Sergeant (Retired) Josh Gravely stepped out of the truck, walked up to the barn shaped cabin and knocked on the door, then entered without waiting for a response from inside. “Hey Doc,” he said.

Dr. Paul Jarecki looked up from the document he was reading on his laptop. The scent of smoke from his pipe and bacon from the morning breakfast filled the air. It was a manly cabin filled with mementos of hunts and fishing expeditions, photographs of Paul Jarecki and friends, including Josh holding up fish, or ducks, or deer. At one side of the cabin was a wood stove that warmed the cabin with a snap and crackle. The flames seen through the glass door moved in slow motion from the controlled intake of oxygen. A covered iron pot on top of the stove was slowly coming up to heat. There would be beef stew for dinner tonight. “Heading out?” Paul asked without looking up from the document on the screen. “I thought you had the rest of the week off.”

“I did, but Mark called and asked me to come in, he thinks there’s a storm coming and we have a new hospital to bring online,” said Josh as he reached into Paul’s fridge and grabbed a bottle of Genesee beer, pulled up a chair and took a drink. Josh worked at an up-and-coming data storage and networking company and owns the property across the street for recreation, but he lives in Orchard Park, about 25 miles away.

“That’s the problem with you former military types, sergeant,” said Paul. “They call, you haul. You should learn to relax.” The doctor glanced over the top half of his glasses and wrote a note on a legal pad on his desk.

“Said the lieutenant colonel who is reviewing his patients records on his day off,” said Josh. “Here’s the key to my cabin, if there’s a fire you know what to do,” and he rose and hung the key ring in Paul’s key rack.

“I know, save the rifles, clear your browser history, then fight the fire.”

Josh placed a fresh beer on Paul’s desk for his friend, then took a sip from his own beer and said, “Clear the browser history first. I don’t have a barn full of hot chicks to keep me company.”

“My hot chicks are keeping you in eggs. Besides, don’t you have a secretary named McRooster or something like that to drool over?”

Josh sat back down. “It’s von Köster and she’s the boss’s executive assistant. She is keeping this company together.”

“I’m just saying,” Paul took a sip from the beer that Josh set in front of him, “she’s a neighbor of mine. I could put in a good word for you.”

“Thank you, Doctor J, but we are definitely in different leagues. She’s starting pitcher for the Dodgers and I’m a benchwarmer for a pre-school T-ball league.”

Paul took another drink, then said, “Don’t put yourself down like that. You’ll be starting as center fielder for the local Ace Hardware T-ball team soon… with practice.”

Josh rose and zipped up his jacket and moved toward the door. “See you Saturday?”

“Roger that, the Bills are playing the Broncos, it’s going to be a good game.” Paul then noticed that Josh was still holding the beer bottle as he opened the door and called out, “That’s a nickel!”

“Is this how you made your first million?” Josh groaned and finished the beer, then set the empty bottle on the table so Paul could collect the deposit. Paul did indeed have a million dollars; in fact, he was worth almost 200 million dollars.

“Do you think it’s going to snow?” Paul asked after a swig from his ‘Genny.’

Josh looked out of the door at the lead gray sky and shrugged. “Nah, probably not.”

“Same here. Bring some beers on Saturday, I’ll put on some venison sausage and sauerkraut.”

Josh backed out of Paul’s driveway, then stopped to check his mailbox and double checked the gate on his property then headed to work. It was annoying to come in on a day off, but he wanted this project to succeed, so he headed in. The run down to his office in Orchard Park was about twenty minutes, and by the time he got to the office, the snow was soon flying. It looked like this storm grew some teeth and didn’t warn anyone.

The snow drifting downward from the sky in huge wet flakes were actually massive collections of individual flakes that grouped together to go on the attack and attack they did. The snow started at eleven AM and by the time Josh got to work, nearly half a foot had fallen on Western New York in the area south of Buffalo known as “The Snow Belt.” By the time Josh made it to work, it looked like the snowfall had stopped. “TA-DA! I’m here!” Josh called out to nobody in particular. He stepped into the “mudroom” and hung up his parka and kicked off his boots and pulled on his loafers. A peek out into the hallway showed business as usual. Nobody was running home because of the storm. He headed toward his office and saw that the supervisor of the field technicians, Eli Goldman, was hard at work at his desk. There were two monitors showing spreadsheets that Eli was working on.

“Elijah,” said Josh as he tapped on Eli’s door.

“Ephraim, how is it out there?” Ephraim is Josh’s first name, Ephraim Joshua Gravely, but he insists everyone calls him Josh because he hates it when they mispronounce Ephraim. He and Eli found a brotherhood in their ancient given names. Eli was raised by orthodox Jews who would have preferred that their youngest son had become a doctor or a lawyer instead of a “Computer Nerd.” Josh was raised by strict southern Baptists who named their children from the Good Book and would roll over in their graves if they knew that their baby boy was now living in New York by choice. Explaining that Western New York isn’t New York city would fall on deaf southern ears. New York is New York! He could picture the conversation:

“But ma, it’s country where I live, farms and cows and logging trucks just like home. We just eat oatmeal instead of grits.”

“Your father and I didn’t raise no son of ours to become a jaded city boy!” they would shout, ignoring the fact that a much bigger city than Buffalo, Jacksonville, was just a few minutes away from them up US 1.

Eli finally looked up from his paperwork. He had curly black hair, a thick mustache, and he was wearing a yarmulka. He probably won’t be coming over for Easter dinner. But Eli brought his wife and two kids over to Josh’s place for Christmas dinner last year, as Eli said, nodding to the nativity on Josh’s side table, “He was a good Jewish boy.” They had a good rapport and became good friends. While Eli oversaw the field technicians who worked out in the customers’ offices, the server team was Josh’s job. He was the data hardware manager. In other words, those stacks and stacks of three to eight RU high servers busily churning up the Western New York air and spitting out binary data in the server room were all his children.

“No storm,” said Josh. “It was looking bad down south when I left however.”

“Thought so. It petered out here about eleven thirty,” said Eli without looking up from his spreadsheet. He was doing the man-hour report that Mister Friedman demanded every Thursday. “The storm moved south and is hammering Springville.” That’s where Josh just came from.

Such is the way of Western New York lake effect storms. They come off of Lake Erie in a long, narrow stream. Anything underneath that stream will get pummeled with snow. Anything north and south of that stream probably won’t get a flake of snow. However, sometimes those storms move north and south, like a huge meteorological windshield wiper and they ‘spread the wealth’ from Niagara Falls NY in the north, down to Bradford PA in the south.

Usually, Orchard Park is right in the firing line for a lake effect blizzard. It normally happens just before a big, important Bills game. The Buffalo Bills home stadium, Highmark Stadium (also called The Ralph), was just a couple of miles due west of the Andalon Data Systems building where Josh and Eli were working.

Josh then stuck his nose into his own boss’s door. Mark Post was an intense genius who was about half of Josh’s age, but many long years in the military taught Josh that age is often just a number. Mark had an intellect that went far beyond his years. He knew every part of this network because he designed it and built it and when Josh was hired, he put the server room he built in Josh’s hands just as he put all the sites out in the field in Eli’s hands. “Hey Mark, how’s it going?” said Josh as he stepped into Mark’s office.

“Ready for St. Agnes tonight?” Saint Agnes was a hospital near Rochester that they were going to bring on-line that evening.

“The sanity check I ran yesterday came back perfect, the VPN is clean, and the remote desktop system is perfect.” The remote desktop lets a doctor or nurse access their desktop on any PC, laptop, tablet, or cell phone on the hospital network or Virtual Private Network. It gives a doctor or nurse full access to the hospital’s data from anywhere.

“Ok. I’m heading home before the roads close,” said Mark. He lived in Boston, NY, a small village about halfway between the data center and Springville and it was getting snow. Mark’s wife was expecting their first child and if he was nervous, he didn’t show it. Lately, Mark did most of his work from home.

He headed over to his office and popped a k-cup in the machine, added some water from a bottle and brewed a passable cup of coffee. Only then did he start looking at his email. Most of it was updates from the software development team reminding him of the upcoming updates to the servers. There was one from his “daughter” Terri McCarthy, wanting to know when he was going to teach her how to drive a snowmobile. Terry was a cute emo chick that worked in the field for Eli, and she loved to torment Josh. She was bucking for a position in the server room, a nice job that would keep her indoors out of the rain. He answered that quickly with, “You’re a Canadian. You should be teaching ME how to drive a ‘motor toboggan.’”

Josh had three guys that worked for him. Their primary job was lifting those one hundred fifty-pound servers into place on the racks, building cables, labeling and routing cables, and swapping out bad hard drives. Most of their time was verifying the spreadsheets that Mark Post generated by the dozens. Terri would go out of her mind with boredom.

As he read his email, he took a bright yellow Nerf pistol out of his desk drawer, loaded a Nerf dart with a suction cup “warhead” and cocked the lever setting the spring. The trigger word this week was “leverage.” The minute he finds the word leverage in an email, he fires. He read through a half dozen emails until he hit one from Brandon Mitchell, vice president in charge of Sales and Marketing.

“The current forecast looks bright, as long as we continue to leverage…”

LEVERAGE! The moment he saw that word, he drew the pistol and fired. POP - SMACK! A Nerf dart sailed across his office/work room and smacked into the picture on the wall. The portrait of a beautiful Mexican woman, his ex-wife Yesenia, now had another Nerf dart stuck to her face. He reloaded the gun and cocked it.

“What’s the word of the week?” asked Nick Taube, one of Josh’s workers. Nick was reviewing a checklist for an upcoming server update.

“Leverage,” said Josh as he returned to the emails.

“I hate that one too, should shoot the guy who used it,” muttered Nick as he went back to his task.

As he read, a voice interrupted him. “Anything else for us today?” asked Cole Reagan, another one of Josh’s ‘worker bees.’

“Go ahead and unbox that C420, put a dozen drives in it and get it loaded up with VM ware,” said Josh. Cole didn’t look happy. He was a big fellow who lifted a lot of weights and that’s why Josh hired him. Those servers are heavy. “You were expecting me to say ‘go home?’”

“Well, that would be nice,” said Cole. “There’s a storm and all…”

“Cole, you live in West Seneca, that’s thirty miles north of the snow. It’s only one o’clock, and you know what I always say… right?”

Cole sighed. “Get to fucking work.”

“Right, now git. As soon as you have that drive volume built you can boogie.” Cole looked disappointed, so Josh gave him an alternative option. “Or you and Rasheed can straighten up the warehouse.”

Cole didn’t bother to consider that option. “Twelve drives, got it. I’ll have the serial numbers for you in a few minutes.” Rasheed and Cole hate working in the warehouse.

Josh went back to his emails and Yesenia sprouted two more Nerf darts. As Josh opened a spread sheet a message notification popped up:

Come see me.

Ant

Oh hell, now what happened? Ant was Anthony Friedman, the Founder and CEO of Andalon Data Systems. Ant was a great guy and Josh really liked him. He even came out to Josh’s property in Springville and spent a relaxing day fishing and drinking beer, but he never tells people “Come see me” without cause.

He went over to the work bench where Rasheed Davis and Cole were unscrewing the cover from the big server. Their first task with bringing a server online is to upgrade the cooling fan control board deep within the server. Rasheed was reading the checklist for the task, while Cole did the job. Rasheed is a black guy who is a bit smaller than Cole, but he can help lift those big servers. Rasheed is funny. He can (and will) recite the entire script of most Mel Brooks movies, but he’s also smart. He’s working on his Computer Science master’s degree. The kid wants to go to Texas and write code for SpaceX, but being a foaming mad Buffalo Bills fan, he refuses to leave Western New York. “I’ll be over in Ant’s office for a few minutes. Please don’t find some weak-ass excuse to come interrupt, I’m sure Miss von Köster has enough people drooling over her.”

“Awww,” groaned Rasheed, who wanted to go gaze at Miss von Köster. Supposedly, the stately blond was a past Miss America. “Killjoy. Just what did you do in the Air Force?”

“Kill people.” That left Rasheed standing with his mouth hanging open, but that summed up what Josh did. He left the “Bobbsey Twins” to tackle their server, and he headed out. From the maintenance world, where the actual devices needed to run the Andalon network were built and maintained, through software development, where code writers worked on Ant’s next big idea. Through the sales bullpen, where salesmen made calls to businesses throughout New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Southern Ontario, advertising Andalon’s perfect track record in the data management community.

He entered the beautifully furnished reception area where the main entrance was, and on the far wall of the reception area were the four offices, Anthony Friedman CEO, Veronica von Köster Executive Assistant, Brandon Mitchell VP of Sales and Marketing, Stanislaus Dombrowski VP of Financial and Accounting, and Emmit Katzman VP of Legal. Josh walked up to Mr. Freidman’s office, and the door was half open. He knocked and Anthony called out, “Come in Josh!”

“How did you know it was me?” asked Josh as he walked into the office.

“You’re the only one in this building that knocks,” said Ant. “Everyone else just barges in and grabs something to drink.” He then gestured to his Trophy Wall. “Check it out!”

Mr. Friedman’s Trophy Wall was covered with Star Trek, Babylon 5, and Firefly models, memorabilia, and signed portraits of the stars of his favorite shows. Josh couldn’t help but see something new. A new piece of artwork was large. It dominated the wall. Framed it was an enlargement of an animation still frame, it showed the cast of an animated movie.

“Is that Babylon 5, the Road Home?” gasped Josh. “Is it signed?”

“Take a closer look,” said Ant with a Cheshire Cat smile.

“Oh my god, they’re all there!” Josh saw the animated images of the cast and each was signed. Bruce Boxleitner, Claudia Christian, Peter Jurasik, Bill Mumy, Tracy Scoggins… and, “Patricia Tallman!” Josh gasped. “God, I loved her. I think she helped me through puberty.” Josh heard a woman laugh, but he didn’t turn. He knew Ant’s wife, Marj’s laugh. He noticed her sitting on the couch when he came in. “Did JMS sign it?”

“Check the monk in the background,” said Ant. And sure enough, in the back was a Techno-mage in a black cloak and hood. The mage had a silver beard and mustache, glasses and a knowing smile and was adorned with the signature of the creator of Babylon 5, J. Michael Straczynski.

“Amazing,” gasped Josh. Like many veterans, he was a fan of TV shows that depict units in action, like Star Trek and Babylon 5. “It’s incredible that you keep all this here.”

“He doesn’t want the kids touching them,” said Marj. She and Ant had seven children, all rambunctious and curious, and they’d probably tear through Ant’s collection in a matter of minutes.

“So, what’s up? Did you call me in to brag… uh… sir?”

“Of course,” said Ant. “But there’s more. Sit.” He pulled the cap from a whiskey decanter but then remembered that Josh doesn’t drink anything more than the occasional beer and put the stopper back. All Josh would say was, “Too many bad memories,” and refused to expound on that. When they worked on rebuilding a log cabin on Josh’s land last summer, his neighbor, Paul, kept track of Josh’s drinking and cut him off at four beers. “Let’s talk about that idea of yours.”

“Which idea? My latest idea to put cots in the break room so Vinnie’s snoring won’t bother the other programmers?”

“Uh, no. The other one where…”

“Where we send Terri McCarthy to a Sha-Na-Na concert so she can learn what proper music is all about?”

“No, the one where we have a supervisor monitor the building during storms,” said Ant.

“Oh, ok, how did you know that was my suggestion? They’re all anonymous.”

“You’re the only one that uses the suggestion box,” said Ant, which caused Marj to howl with laughter.

“Sit, let’s talk.” When Josh was seated, Ant said, “What makes you think that a random supervisor, let’s say Neil, can repair a server issue?”

Neil was one of the managers in the Sales Division and was mechanically inept. “They don’t have to know how to fix anything,” said Josh. “All they have to know is how to identify an error or a problem, and dial a phone. If they see a red flashing light in the server room, they call me. If a customer calls and says they pulled a cable out and the end broke off, they call Eli. That kind of thing.”

“That’s it?” asked Ant.

“Keep the exits unblocked in case the fire department needs to respond to an alarm in the building. Maybe once an hour do a walk around the building and make sure nothing is burning, leaking, freezing or collapsing,” said Josh. “It doesn’t have to be a supervisor, but they’ll need access to all rooms so they have to be someone you can trust. You can give them a cell phone with everything forwarded to it, fire alarms, that kind of thing.”

“I like it,” said Ant. “Let’s give it a try next blizzard. Care to be our guinea pig?”

“It’s not like I have much of a life outside of work so, sure.”

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Chapter 2

The storm buried the Springville area, but that was twenty miles south. Orchard Park got a few flurries here and there. It must have been bad because Miss von Köster always finds a way in to work when the storms are bad. She went to her home in Springville that first day and spent the long five-day weekend working from home. When she finally came back to work, she was happy and chipper.

Josh used to eat lunch at his desk at work until Anthony practically screamed at him back in September. “That lunch time is your lunch time, not mine. Go somewhere else to eat.”

“Where?”

“Gee, we have these things called restaurants,” said Terri McCarthy, who was passing by. It looked like Josh was getting his ass chewed by The Big Boss, and she couldn’t let an ass chewing slip by. She had to watch. Terri is a young Canadian girl of medium height and average weight, with straight jet black hair cut at shoulder length. She says she’s such a badass that she cuts her hair with a chain saw, and the jagged edges of her hairline make that claim seem plausible. She’s a brilliant technician, but she will say the strangest things just to get a reaction out of people. With her narrow eyes, pointed nose and slight buck teeth, she has the look of a mouse about her. She makes Josh crazy, but he enjoys having her around. She reminds him of the airmen he used to lead.

Ever since that day, Josh ate his lunch in the break room. Terri usually has lunch with her colleague Jennifer Combs, another field technician, and often they invite themselves to eat with Josh. Occasionally Veronica von Köster joins them, and when she does Josh finds himself tongue tied and embarrassed about his upbringing in the deep south. Josh usually just listens while the three girls chatter, and Veronica enjoys these lunches. She’s not expected to be some incredible business tycoon, or some elite snob. She can just be what she wants to be when chatting with Jen and Terry and Josh. But everything changed that Tuesday after the storm. Veronica was in a happy, joyful mood when she sat down with Terry, Jen, and Josh.

“Look at that rock!” gasped Terry. “You could throw that through a store window and break in!” The rock that Terry was gasping over was a 2.5 karat diamond ring on the third finger of Veronica’s left hand.

“Jameson and I finally set the date, we’re getting married on Valentine’s day” said Veronica, and the three girls squealed.

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” said Josh. “That’s quite a…” just then his cell phone rang, and he picked it up. “Gravely… it what?… No, don’t touch anything, I’ll be right there.” He hung up the phone and began packing his lunch away. “Sorry ladies, duty calls. Miss von Köster, I wish you all the best.” He went straight to his office and found Cole and Rasheed loading VM Ware on a new server. “Hey guys, I have an appointment, my doc had a cancellation and she can get me in, see you tomorrow.”

Why did he suddenly feel so empty? There was nothing between Veronica and him. They occasionally ate lunch where he stuttered and stammered through a conversation like an idiot and it’s probably best she has a man that can at least speak to her. He got home and locked the door to his apartment, then opened a locked cabinet and pulled out his emergency stash, a bottle of Black Velvet Canadian Whiskey. He poured about six or eight ounces into a drinking glass, locked the bottle back up, then sat down in the recliner and let the News Reel play in his head.

The AC-130J Specter Gunship was an agent of death. The nose art on Josh’s ship was a cartoon Arab riding on a camel that was sprinting. The name of the gunship was “Why Die Tired?” from the gallows humor, “You can run, but why die tired?” The cabin was filling with smoke. Some goat fucking asshole down there shot them with a stinger. That horrible night over Buttfuckistan coming back, one bloody moment after another. He sipped his cheap whiskey until the glass was empty. He got up to get some more, but he had locked it in the cabinet and he was too blurry eyed to thumb in the combination.

Josh stumbled to his recliner and sat down, then grabbed his phone. He didn’t get a call earlier at lunch with Veronica and the girls. He just had his smartwatch locate his phone, which caused the phone to ring. The rest was play acting. This time, he made a real call. When a woman answered, he said, “Hello Hellinore.”

“You sound drunk, are you drunk Bounce?” asked Ellie.

“No. I’m fucking plastered.”

“She dumped you, didn’t she. That bitch!”

“No, I never got a chance to ask her out. The man of her dreams finally set a date to marry him.

“So just go out and have dinner like buddy-buddies,” said Ellie.

“You know I don’t work like that,” slurred Josh.

“MREs in a field hospital recovery room are not dinner, besides, you were single,” said Josh.

“So were you. You just didn’t know it yet,” said Ellie.

“Fuck me,” groaned Josh.

“Josh, you and I both know this isn’t the way to handle this. You gotta get back on the wagon, this isn’t helping you.”

“I locked it up and I can’t see the numbers on the lock to open the cabinet. I just took my last sip.”

“You need to find help Josh.”

“Who cares? Jus’ another soldier fucked in the head. It’s our job to die, right?”

Ellie hates it when Josh gets drunk. “I’m not going to argue with a drunk. Go sleep it off and call me tomorrow.”

“I will. I love ya Hellie.”

“Love ya Bounce.”

<><><><><>

Josh normally gets an update from his buddy Paul on storms that hit Springville, but he didn’t hear anything from Paul during this last storm and he began to wonder if Paul ‘ate his gun’ in a fit of loneliness, but then out of the blue, Paul called and invited him to dinner. It was a good thing that Paul waited until Thursday. If he asked Josh yesterday when he was hung over, he would have puked. “Sure, see you soon.”

Josh had been to Paul’s cabin scores of times. After a long day of work on one of Josh’s cabins or in Paul and his brother John’s huge garden and everyone was too tired to cook, they would go into town for dinner, but he’s never been to Paul’s house. He’s seen it through the trees from the parking lot of Worzil’s Bar and Grille, but he’s never been to Paul’s house.

That evening he drove out to Springville and damn! They got buried in the weekend storm! Easily four feet of snow was over the entire village, which somehow still got dressed up in its Christmas best. Evergreen wreaths and red ribbons decorated every lamp post in the village and garlands of lights were strung across Main Street. Johnson’s Feed Store was lit up like a Christmas tree and a few blocks up Main Street was Worzil’s Bar & Grille. As usual, Ayato Tanaka, owner of Worzil’s decorated with decorations left over from the 1940s. He turned there and up Howard Avenue a couple of blocks to that huge Victorian mansion that Paul had been dumping money into.

This was Josh’s first visit to Casa del Jarecki, and he was shocked at the size of the big, beautiful house. The huge Victorian was lit up with beautiful multi-colored Christmas lights that twinkled, flashed, chased each other, then rested on warm gold before starting over. The ornate iron fence that surrounded the front yard was decorated with evergreen garland and lights that were synched with the lights on the house. In the huge front window, a stately blue spruce stood, decorated to the nines. With a gentle snowfall drifting down from the heavens, the house was a Christmas fantasy.

Josh parked in front of the garage behind the house, got out, and walked past the hot tub. It sat under a canopy and had been shoveled out so obviously it’s been used recently. “I shoulda brought a swimming suit,” said Josh with a sigh. A soak in the hot tub would help with these residual aches. Somewhere under that field of snow called a back yard was a built in pool. Paul Jarecki’s brother John had invited Josh to a few pool parties held by his church, but Josh wasn’t a “joiner.” Alone was his natural state of mind.

As he approached the kitchen door, the flap on the dog door exploded outward and Paul’s beautiful chocolate lab, Wonka, burst out and dashed up to Josh. Wonka had half a dozen stick-on Christmas ribbons stuck to him here and there. “What’s going on, boy? Is Paul wrapping you up for Christmas?”

Wonka reared up and put his paws on Josh’s chest and looked into Josh’s eyes, then with a ‘Woof!’ he dashed back into the house. Josh chuckled and stepped up on the back patio and Wonka poked his nose out the dog door clearly checking to see if Josh was following, then ducked back into the kitchen. “I ain’t never seen Wonka actin’ like that,” muttered Josh and he walked into the kitchen. Paul once told him, “No need to knock, just walk in.”

“Who are you?” demanded a tiny blond girl.

Josh looked down at the tiny girl standing defiantly in front of him. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I asked first!”

“I am Prince Ephraim Yashua Gravely, lord of all I survey,” said Josh in a deep voice that he hoped would terrify the urchin. “And who are you?”

“Sandy. Now take those snowy shoes off!”

“Yes ma’am.” Josh took off his boots, and when he stood up, he saw that there were two of them. “Who are you?”

“SANDY! I told you!”

“No, the other one.”

“She’s my sister Madeline but she doesn’t talk to strange people.”

“Are you saying I’m strange?”

“Yes.”

Josh switched tactics. “Is there a doctor in the house?”

“Yes,” said Madeline. She looked up at Josh in what could only be called awe.

“Which one?” demanded Sandy.

“There’s more than one?”

“Mommy’s a doctor,” said Madeline.

“So is poppa Paul,” added Sandy.

“Poppa Paul?” asked Josh, completely startled. “I would like to speak with Doctor Poppa Paul.”

“He’s upstairs playing’ with mommy,” said Sandy, then with a squeal, the two little girls ran off through the enormous house, Wonka tagging along with them, barking happily.

Josh tried to let that sink in. “Poppa Paul?” Doctor Paul Jarecki’s wife died almost ten years ago. If they had any kids, they’d be much larger than those two. Maybe Paul is a fast worker. His father left him a handful of car dealerships and he’s up to a dozen now. Maybe he’s renting a few kids to impress a client. Nah, if you could rent kids, Josh’s folks would have rented him out on a long-term basis decades ago.

Josh poked around the kitchen; it was huge. Paul loved to cook, and he bragged about the appliances he put in the kitchen as he and a local contractor Gus Didomissio rebuilt the enormous palace. Everything was restaurant quality. The stove was bigger than Josh’s first car; the refrigerator was larger than his first apartment. He inspected the side-by-side ovens. One had a roast cooking nicely, the other had potatoes baking. A plate covered with a paper towel hid a few slices of cooked bacon. As he poked around, he would occasionally see a tiny face and a mop of blond hair peer at him from a doorway.

As Josh inventoried the fridge, he pulled out his phone and made a call. “Paul! It’s Josh. I’m lost in this kitchen of yours, can you text me a map of how to get out of here?”

Paul chuckled. “I’ll be right down.”

“Paul, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have children. I warned you to spray the house for them.”

As he spoke, Paul appeared from a doorway behind him, and with him was a dazzling little woman. She was everything Josh could want in a woman, but economy size. Her face was almost as beautiful as Veronica, with large breasts, an hourglass figure and a luminous smile. “Josh, this is the future Mrs. Jarecki, Doctor Adrianna Robertson.”

“Call me Andi,” said the tiny woman as she shook hands with Josh.

“Uh… when did you guys meet?” was all that Josh could say.

“A week ago,” said Andi with a beautiful blush.

“About two hours after you left,” said Paul. “The snow really started to come down and she went off the road trying to turn around.”

“In a ditch!” cried a blond munchkin, who immediately disappeared.

“Right in front of Gerry and Irma Hirsh’s farm,” said Paul.

“Oh wow, the ditch is deep there,” said Josh.

“Josh owns the property right across the street from us,” Paul informed Andi. “This is Josh’s first visit here, why don’t you give him a tour of your home while I see to dinner.”

“Ok, right this way,” and she led him from the kitchen to the French Victorian formal dining room, which looked like it was ready for a magazine shoot. The large table was set with crystal, china, and silverware, all arranged perfectly along with holly and pine boughs. Behind the stately table was a large fireplace with a gas fire insert. The mantle was decorated with candles, an evergreen garland with tiny white lights twinkling in the branches, and potted poinsettias on the hearth, along with a couple of Barbie dolls that were basking in front of the gas fire.

“This is beautiful,” said Josh.

“This is all some designer that Paul hired, we generally eat in the kitchen. Paul says he invites clients over and shows off with this house and will hire a caterer to serve dinner, clean up, and reset the table. He lives in the basement.”

“Why?”

“That’s where the big TV, his ham radio, and his gym is,” said Andi. “This is the parlor, which I just love. I can’t wait for the dinner party on Christmas!” The parlor continued with the French Victorian decor. A fire crackled in the glass insert in the fireplace, stockings hung from the mantle and mirrors abounded, making the room look even bigger. A tremendous blue spruce stood in the front window.

“I take it that they don’t have any houses like this back in Kansas?” asked Josh.

“We’re from Denver, and yes there’s plenty of houses like this,” then she turned to Josh and said, “but just not for me.” She let that sink in then drew Josh’s attention to the fourteen foot tall tree that dominated one end of the room. “Paul and his brother John are very proud of their Polish heritage…”

“Tell me about it,” muttered Josh. He was afraid to come visit here because he was sick of the perogies Paul serves at the cabin.

“Every glass ornament on this tree is from Poland, all are hand crafted,” she continued.

Josh looked at the beautiful, hand blown ornaments. They weren’t the boring American spheres. Each ornament was an individual, brightly colored piece of art. Many bells covered the tree, and all were covered with bright colors. Some had beautiful paintings of Father Christmas or a peaceful, snowy village. Some ornaments were nativity scenes, some of those scenes Josh could only describe as Byzantine.

As he considered the tree, Andi asked Josh softly, “Why do you hate me? Is it because we’re rushing into this?”

“No, I don’t hate you. Look, if Paul’s happy, I’m happy,” said Josh. “Paul is not an impulsive guy. If he asked you to marry him, he thought it out, no matter how long or how quickly he came to that decision.”

“Do you hate me because I’m taking Paul away from you?”

“Ma’am, I don’t rightly know you enough to work up a good hate, and no, you’re not taking Paul away from me. There’s better fishing in my pond than yours so Paul will still be over.”

“You’re lonely, aren’t you.”

“No,” Josh lied. “I have an entire company of co-workers to amuse me.” And when I get home, I have a picture of my dead cat to keep me company.

“Paul is proud of this living room,” said Andi as she led Josh into a living room which was decorated in the style of the 1950s.

“That’s definitely period furniture,” said Josh as he admired the aluminum Christmas tree. The silver tree slowly rotated on its stand next to the floor council TV. A floodlight illuminated the tree, a color wheel in front of the flood light changed color, and the tree was decorated with construction paper chains and construction paper gingerbread men.

“The girls have adopted this tree as theirs and their little projects get hung here.” Then she turned to Josh and said, “The furniture was first owned by Paul and John’s parents, they gave it to John and Macy when they got married. When Paul bought this house, he purchased the furniture from John and Macy, had it rebuilt and reupholstered for his parents and this is where they spent their last years.”

“I know,” said Josh. “I remember the funerals,” he added softly. Why does he remember the horrors of life and never the joy? He felt a weak excuse to leave welling up when John and Macy made their appearance.

“Ephraim!” said Macy Jarecki as the twins tugged her into the living room, Paul’s sister-in-law, wife of his brother John. John Jarecki is shorter than Paul, but he doesn’t have the hawk nose of his older brother. Both have dark hair, dark blue eyes, and a similar sense of humor. While Paul studied medicine and became a doctor, John studied theology and became a pastor. His wife, Macy, is also a preacher. She has a doctorate in theology and a doctorate in psychology. She’s tall, slender, black, and incredibly beautiful.

The twins led their Aunt Macy into the living room, chattering about the stranger in the house. “Oh you sillies, that’s not a stranger, he’s Mister Josh! He’s a neighbor. He has the cabin across the street from Poppa Paul’s cabin.”

“Where momma plowed the driveway?” asked Madeline.

Josh turned to Andi, and she shrugged. “I like plowing.”

“I can’t picture you on that big old Ford tractor of Paul’s,” said Josh. Paul had a 1953 Ford 8N tractor that he rebuilt from the wheels up. It wasn’t a really big tractor, but Andi was only four feet nine inches tall.

“I prefer the Kubota,” said Andi.

Josh’s jaw dropped. Paul also had a brand new four wheel drive Kubota tractor with all the bells and whistles, mower deck, front end scoop, backhoe, brush hog, and three-point hitch for the older implements. The Kubota was his baby; nobody touches the Kubota. “You drove the Kubota?”

“Uh huh,” said Andi cheerily. “I asked and he said, ‘Sure!’”

“My God,” gasped Josh. He turned to Macy and said, “That is love.”

“Mm-hmm, it sure is,” said Macy, trying to sound southern like Josh, which is not easy for a French Canadian girl.

“Gus is here!” called Paul from the kitchen. “Get to the table!”

Reassured that Josh was not a strange man or a stranger, Sandy and Madeline led him to the kitchen through the big spooky library, a huge, mostly empty room with a huge spooky fireplace and bookshelves covering the walls. “This is where we do our running,” said Sandy.

“Yeah, we don’t need a tremmel,” agreed Madeline.

“Tremmel?” asked Josh.

“Treadmill,” translated Andi. “Paul and I work out on his exercise bikes or treadmills in the basement.”

“We don’t eat in the dining room,” said Sandy. “That’s for ghosts and guys with cameras.”

“That keeps them out of your kitchen I suppose.”

“Not always,” said Madeline. “A ghost keeps eating my Froot Loops.”

“Yeah that’s bad for ghosts,” said Josh. When they got to the kitchen, Paul’s best friend, Gus Didomissio, was there, and he greeted Josh with a hug and back pats.

“You know him?” said a shocked Sandy.

“Josh and I are old buddies,” said ‘Uncle Gus.’ “We go hunting together, and fishing, and he’s got lots of cabins that we help him rebuild.”

“If you’re really good for your mother and papa Paul, I’ll let you go camping in one of my cabins,” said Josh.

Sandy and Madeline looked at each other, their eyes wide at the thought of having a cabin all to themselves. “I don’t know,” said Paul. “Mister Josh’s cabins are out in the woods where the deer and the unicorns live and they’re pretty big.”

“Can we? Can we? Can we?” begged the twins as Andi and Paul got them into their highchairs.

“Troublemaker,” said Andi to Josh.

“Yes ma’am. That’s me.”

Josh felt good to be among friends, Paul, John, Gus, and Macy. He felt a genuine affection for Andi, but the twins were becoming his little buddies. The girls told him all throughout dinner of their exploits being stuck in Paul’s cabin during the storm and how they convinced their mommy to marry Paul because of something they called Missile Toast.

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Chapter 3

Come see me.

Ant

Josh sighed. Now what? Doesn’t Anthony know that the chain of command goes in two directions? He finished up the inventory he had been working on, grabbed a notebook and tried to lock his computer before Terri could read over his shoulder and…

“You’re in trouble now!” gushed Terri.

Too late, Josh groaned inwardly. Terri had seen the direct message from Anthony. “I got called into his office once,” she gushed. “It was for dancing on the tabletops during the office Christmas party last year.”

“Oh, you had? I must have missed it.” Actually, Josh was there. He was new with the company but he was there and he remembered seeing Terri dancing away and he thought he didn’t have to put up with ‘moonbattery’ like that in the civilian world. Then they met the next day at work.

“You were too busy making goo-goo eyes at Miss Veronica.”

“We talked for a few moments,” said Josh. “She was hanging out with much more important people than me.” Being both gorgeous and intelligent, Veronica spends most of her time at these functions buttering up clients.

Josh grabbed a notebook and headed over to Anthony’s office, one of the few rooms in the building that wasn’t covered with Christmas decorations. He stepped in and saw that Anthony and Veronica were in the room and God; she was more beautiful than before. Even her hands were beautiful, long, delicate fingers. Her nails were perfectly shaped and colored. What he would give to have her hand caressing his cheek, her fingertips sliding over his chest, getting lower and lower… her right hand, not her left hand. Her left hand is adorned with a giant rock that shows she’s betrothed to another man, so all Josh could do is daydream.

“How can I help you Chief?” asked Josh as he tried to stay as far away from Veronica as he could. He knew that one whiff of her perfume would toast his brain and he’d be useless for the rest of the day.

“Marjorie is starting to firm up an adoption advocacy organization, and Miss von Köster is planning some activities for the older children we would be servicing,” said Ant. “We were wondering if we have a little campout on your property this summer, around July 15, maybe a night in a cabin, a splash in the pond, a hotdog cookout over a fire sort of thing.”

“I don’t see why not,” said Josh.

“Fine. Can you work with Miss von Köster and make this happen?” asked Anthony.

“I uh,” Josh looked at Veronica. “Sure, let me call Gus and see if we can get another cabin finished by mid-July. The organizers will have to haul out trash and if they want better sanitation than what is available, they’ll have to rent a porta-potty.”

“Not a problem,” said Ant. “Miss von Köster, anything else?”

The beautiful woman sighed. “He’s gone. Why does he hate me so much?” she looked absolutely heart broken.

“He doesn’t hate you, in fact I think there’s just one thing that’s setting him off.”

“What? We were friends, we had lunch together two, three times a week, and now he won’t even speak to me.”

Ant sat down next to her on the couch and took her hand in his. “I know Ephraim. I know his history. Because of that history, they told me that hiring him would be a mistake, but he has never given me reason to doubt my hiring him.”

Veronica shook her head. “You can get anyone with a two-year degree to do that job.”

“Honey, he’s running that entire side of the building. While Mark and Eli are reviewing every receipt and document looking for that leak, he’s been doing it all, scheduling the work, following up on the field techs, doing a full quality inspection of new installations, plus his own work in the server room, keeping it up and running, even designing new installations.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing, it has everything to do with his loyalty to this company and you and I.”

“But why doesn’t he like me?”

“He cares for you very much. Maybe too much.”

“He won’t even talk to me,” said Veronica.

“He has his reasons,” said Ant, and he turned her hand over so she could see her diamond engagement ring. “He’s a man of honor and principals. You are betrothed to a man who isn’t here, so he’s not even going to appear to be interested.”

“Why?” she asked, but she was sure she knew the reason.

“How would you like it if you got phone calls stating that Jameson was seen spending time with a woman who just claims to be a friend?”

“But we’re not doing anything like that,” said Veronica.

“And neither, God forbid, is Jameson. But people talk. Ephraim is a southern man; he says yes ma’am and no sir and opens doors for you and he doesn’t associate with engaged women.”

“So what do I do?”

“Go talk to him, take Marj with you. He’s going to relax with Marj there and you’ll be able to feel him out.”

Ten minutes later, Marjorie and Veronica walked into the Server Room and Josh was at his desk going over the duty schedule for the next few weeks when Veronica asked, “Can we talk?”

Josh looked up and saw that Marjorie was there with Veronica, even though she was standing back a few steps. “Sure,” he said, and he locked up his PC. Veronica took another chair and wheeled it up to Josh’s desk and sat close to him. “What would you like to talk about?” asked Josh.

“We have this project but I think we should clear the air first,” said Veronica.

“Oh, what do you want to know?” asked Josh.

“Why don’t you like me?”

Josh looked at her, then at Marj, then back at Veronica, then back to Marj. “You put her up to this, right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Marj with a shrug of her shoulders.

“What are you saying,” asked Veronica so quietly he could barely hear her.

“You’re the second engaged woman that asked me that in the past few days. I met a friend’s fiancée the other evening and she asked me the same thing. I’ll tell you what I told her that evening.” Josh pointed to the portrait of a beautiful Mexican woman on the wall. “When we were engaged, every time I came back from a mission, I heard rumors. Rumors like she was hot for a sergeant in the avionics shop, and she was having an affair with a married captain in the Osprey squadron. Crap like that. I still remember how painful that was and I swore that I will never be the cause of a rumor like that and bring such pain on anyone else.”

“I didn’t realize…” started Veronica, but Josh stopped her from continuing.

“I like you, Miss von Köster, probably more than I should, but engagement is a very important time in a relationship. It’s when you should be at your most open and honest with your man so both of you are prepared for your life together.”

“So you’re willing to work with me?” Veronica asked.

Josh softened and smiled. “Yes, I can’t wait to get going on this project, but we’re going to need someone with us to insure no wicked rumors get back to Jameson.”

That was so sweet! She worked with so many high-powered men that would jump at the chance to jump in bed with her, and here was a guy who was telling her why he would not consider a dinner alone with her, for purely romantic reasons… for her romance with Jameson! It was at that moment when their friendship blossomed. “I think we can arrange that,” said Veronica. From that moment on, they became good friends. Josh could still be tongue tied when talking with her, but Veronica thought that was cute. Here was this big, strong, handsome war hero stuttering like a schoolboy.

Every day at lunch they would meet and discuss plans for the kids’ campout. Josh showed her on his laptop what his property looked like on Google Earth. “This used to be a scout camp,” he said. “There’s been some vandalism over the years, but I’m rebuilding with some friends.”

“Can I come help?” asked Veronica.

“Can you swing a hammer? Cut with a chain saw?” asked Josh.

“Yes to both,” said Veronica. “Daddy also taught me how to weld.”

Josh looked at her with a newfound admiration. “You’re on the team. Ok here’s the pond, the main driveway is here, and on the other side of these trees is my main cabin.” He pointed out the driveway that went back to the east side of the huge pond and went around a big loop in the forest. “This is Ant and Marj’s cabin, and here is my future main cabin,” he said as he pointed out a small cabin right on the north-east edge of the pond.

“It looks like heaven on earth,” sighed Veronica.

“We think so,” said Marj. “Those cabins are huge. One will do it for us if we can get enough cots and picnic tables.”

“How big are these cabins?” asked Veronica as she slipped Josh a folded post-it note.

“There’s three sizes. There’s small cabins which are fine for six to eight, I call that a patrol cabin, the big cabins can hold up to three patrols of scouts, I call those troop cabins, then there’s a couple that fall in between. There’s only one of those currently standing and it’s where I stay. There’s also spots for tent camping along the loop, I’m thinking of making those RV spots.”

“You’re going to make an RV park?” asked Veronica.

“Yep. That’s my retirement. Baiting hooks and helping with water hook-ups,” said Josh. “No more high pressure bullshit. Pardon my French.”

That entire idea appealed to Veronica. To retire in the woods and help novice campers get their start with the hobby. “My dad used to take my sister Magda and me camping all the time,” said Veronica with a happy sigh. “He loves fishing in a rowboat.”

“You and Jameson will have to bring him for a visit.”