“I’ve got this Saturday open for lunch. We could make it an informal thing. I could give you your options, you could mull them over. We could talk formally over the phone about it that following Monday to give you time to talk with your parents.”
“That sounds perfect. Lunch Saturday it is. You pick the place and let me know when to be there,” I said.
“That’s easy. Twelve thirty at Little Gallea.”
“Do you eat anywhere else?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Nope. And my waistline can prove it. See you then, Travis. And don’t worry. They can threaten government involvement all they want. But unless they can prove your father’s company establishes a monopoly by holding onto this land, there isn’t anything they can do to intervene. But, we’ve got ways of getting them to shut their antics down. Starting by suing for harassment.”
“We’ll talk more Saturday, but thanks. That settles my mind a bit,” I said.
“Talk with you soon.”
“See ya Saturday.”
I hung up the phone and immediately called my father. I made my way inside, listening as the phone rang in my ear. I left him a voice message telling him it was urgent, but when I got a call back it was my mother.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Hey, Mom. What’s going on with Dad?” I asked.
“He’s a bit… incapacitated at the moment.”
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“Son, will you just take my word for it and talk with me? He can’t come to his phone right now.”
“I don’t even want to know,” I said.
“You really don’t.”
“I can hear your grin.”
“We’re at the vacation home. Take it for what you will. What’s wrong? It sounds like something’s on your mind,” she said.
“Nothing new has developed, but there was another letter sent out. It was addressed to Dad, but it came to me. Did you guys switch the formal business address to my cabin? Or has Breathline Energies tracked me down?” I asked.
“No, we switched it. Don’t panic. I was going to call and tell you, but I haven’t had the time. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“What happened with forwarding the mail to you guys down in Florida?” I asked.
“You really don’t watch the news, do you? This hurricane season’s supposed to be rough. Your father is up to his usual panicky antics and he switched the forwarding address to your house. So we can make sure someone gets the mail. He thinks everything halts when storms blow through.”
“Sounds like Dad. Anyway, it’s another threatening letter from Breathline. Government action and all that shit.”
“Language, sweetheart.”
“Sorry, Mom. And all that stuff. I’ve got an informal sit down with Richard on Saturday for lunch to figure out what we can do about getting them to stop. Richard says they don’t have grounds to involve the government and that we might have some avenues we can take to get them to stop for good.”
“Well, keep us in the loop honey. I’m so sorry we aren’t there to handle this,” she said.
“No worries. You guys enjoy your incapacitated time together. I just wanted to update you on what was going on since I had to call the family lawyer.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. Let us know how Saturday goes.”
“I will. And Mom?”
“Yeah?”