"How much longer will we have to wait?" Sam mumbled behind me. "We've been here over fifteen minutes."
"The line isn't that long. Just be thankful we only brought carry-ons. The wait at the baggage claims is going to be much longer than this."
Sam and I were finishing up the check in at Bluegrass Airport. The flight was uneventful, and that is putting it mild. Barely three-fourths of first class had been booked, so Sam was able to get a seat not next to me. Otherwise, we would've wound up at each others' throats somewhere over Pennsylvania. Just one of the perks of being heirs to a former multi-millionaire family. Not enough cash for your own private jet, I don't think, but more than enough to fly with the best perks.
The plane touched down just after two, only an hour delay in arriving. Strong storms in the west had been playing havoc with the flight schedules. Right now, we were finishing up a half hour of check in, before finding some place to eat at the airport before our ride arrives. Which might be late as well due to the flight delay.
"Where do want to eat? There's not that big of a selection here, but I'm sure that..."
"I don't think I want anything," Sam cuts in. "Besides, I think the ride's here."
"It can't be. They said it would be almost four before..."
I trail off again as I see fairly tall man in a dress shirt and jeans waving a cardboard sign with 'BURTONS' on it. "Why this?" I think as I rush up to one of my best friends in the world, Rick Morris.
"You know, you could've have called or texted me that you were going to pick us up." I grab up and hug him, crushing that stupid sign between us. "I thought your wife was going to come instead."
"Well, she wasn't feeling well, and I unexpectedly had the afternoon off, so I volunteered. Whoa. Sam. Have you had another growth spurt? That shirt is really tight on you."
"Whatever. I going to hit the head before we leave." With a quick turn, Sam began to walk down the hall to the men's room up ahead.
"What's up with Sam? He's usually a lot happier than this," Rick asks.
"Dad finally told him he's selling the manor. He's been grumpy ever since. Now, what's up with you and the missus? I hope it's not serious."
"Oh, her. She might be pregnant again. It's not yet two months, but she's pretty sure." Rick looks kind of glum himself at this.
"Congratulations, I guess. Please tell me there's not a problem."
"Not with her, but with the house. We've only have a master and two bedrooms. We don't have room for another kid. For goodness sake, Will is going to have to sleep on the couch in my home office when he stays there tonight. RJ was in no mood to share a room with his sister, even for just one night."
"Couldn't you remodel? It can't be that hard."
"We've talked to some of your contractors already. There's just no way to expand. One contractor told me that RJ's room was probably just a remodeled linen closet already. We thought the room was too small for a reason, but we never thought it was a closet. While it okay for now, there's not going to be enough room for RJ once he hits puberty, if not sooner. My own dad got his at eleven."
"So, you're moving?"
"I'm not sure if we can afford it. My wife was just starting to plan to go back to working full time when this came up."
"Couldn't your father-in-law help out? You two both work for his law office. Surely, he can find a way to get more work your way."
"Maybe not. It's a little hard to get into right now, and Sam is on his way back. Okay."
I look the way Rick is facing. Sam is pulling up his zipper, in public, a few yards away from the men's room door. Yeah, it is a long zipper, but don't show off like that in public.
"You know," I say to Sam, "you're eighteen now. You could get in trouble for doing that in public."
The disdain in his eyes drill into me.
"Whatever. Can we go now? Thanks for picking us up Mr. Morris."
At least he's polite to others.
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