Chapter 9

"So basically, you haven't made any progress on the case at all?" Charlie asked in disbelief.

This was the continuation of an argument he'd been having with Don since they'd arrived at the restaurant. It had begun as soon as Don had met up with Charlie and Alan outside, continued as the hostess had shown them to their seats, and barreled on as the busboy came by to fill their water glasses a few minutes ago.

Charlie had started off intending to avoid the subject. He'd simply asked Don how everybody at the office was doing. He felt cut off from them and he missed their company, but he had difficulty facing the people he was investigating. Especially Colby, since he had been relegated to cold cases and low-level assignments. Don had gruffly replied 'fine' and quickly glanced away. Feeling defensive, Charlie had responded by grilling Don about his stalled-out murder investigation.

Don shot him an irritated glance over the top of the menu and sarcastically replied, "Are you kidding? I figured out the identity of the murderer and where to find him weeks ago. I just figured, why arrest him? Live and let live – that's my motto."

"Alright," Alan interrupted in a warning tone.

Charlie picked up his own menu as he grumbled, "It was just a question."

Don leaned forward and hissed, "Do I pester you about how come you haven't solved some equation yet?"

Charlie rolled his eyes in disbelief at his brother's audacity. "Actually, yes. You do that all the time! Every time you ask me to help on a case…"

Don interrupted, "Well, that hasn't been a problem lately, has it?"

"Enough!" Alan announced in a firm tone. Charlie would have laughed at how easily two grown men could be cowed by one word from their father; but he was too busy staring down at the empty place setting in front of him in silence.

When he was sure he had their attention, Alan continued, "I invited you both to dinner so we could have a nice evening out and celebrate the fact that my new business has just won our first big client. Not so you two could snap at each other all night."

"Sorry, Dad," Charlie replied guiltily.

Don chimed in, "Yeah. We're sorry. It's great, really. We're proud of you."

Charlie raised his water glass and offered a toast, "To your recent success with your new business."

Alan's expression softened slightly, but he corrected, "You're not supposed to toast with water, Charlie. It's bad luck."

To Charlie's surprise, Don leapt to his defense. "Oh, come on. Who cares about luck? This new business is gonna be unstoppable." He raised his own water glass and repeated part of Charlie's toast, "To your success."

Alan finally relented and raised his own water glass. As he reached it forward to clink with the others, they chorused, "Success."

As he took a sip of water, Charlie chanced a glance across the table and was relieved when Don smiled at him. Charlie smiled back and made a conscious effort to relax and simply enjoy his family's company. This was the restaurant where they always went to celebrate birthdays, graduations, and other special family events. The truth was it was really Mom who had favored the place, but over the years they'd come to associate it with family and it seemed wrong somehow to go anywhere else on special occasions. Looking across the table at his brother, he realized this was the first time he'd seen Don in weeks.

Before he could say anything conciliatory to Don, the waiter appeared at his side. "Good evening, gentlemen. Have you had a chance to look at our wine list? I can bring you something straight away if you like." He lowered his voice to a whisper and delicately warned, "Bad luck to toast with water, you know."

Charlie slumped down slightly in embarrassment at his social gaffe, but Alan shook his head while searching his pockets for his reading glasses. "That old superstition? I don't believe it."

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Charlie trailed after his father and brother as they walked out of the warmth of the restaurant into the cold night air, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. By keeping certain topics firmly off the table, they'd actually managed to enjoy a pleasant meal together.

As they waited for the valets to bring the cars, Alan turned to his sons and pinned them both with a sharp glare. "I'm tired of this ongoing battle between the two of you. I shouldn't have to chastise you like children to get you to be civil to one another. You've shown me tonight that you can still get along when sufficiently motivated."

As the valet pulled up in his car and stepped out to hand him the keys, Alan announced firmly, "Charlie, I don't want you to come home until you've resolved this thing once and for all." Turning a hard stare on Don, he added, "Whatever it is."

Stunned into silence, they watched their father tip the valet, get into his car, and drive away. They stood side-by-side watching the car pull out of the parking lot and merge into traffic.

Don managed to find his voice first. "Dude. Did you just get kicked out of your own house?"

Charlie flung his arms out and sputtered in disbelief, "I… I think so! Yeah!"

Don turned to him with a considering look. "Can he do that?"

Charlie knew what he meant. The fact that Charlie actually owned the house now made it all the more ridiculous. But he held out a hand in the direction Alan had just driven off without him and pointed out, "I, ah, I think he just did."

Don nodded thoughtfully, conceding the point, as a second valet pulled up with his black SUV. Stepping forward and collecting his keys, Don casually tossed over his shoulder, "Sucks to be you."

Charlie blinked, realizing he could end up abandoned here at the restaurant if he didn't move fast. "Hey!"

Don didn't bother to turn around, but there was a smile in his voice as he replied, "Yeah, yeah. Get in."