Warlock of Omaha Squared

By Hemaccabe

Chapter 2: Our House

The next morning, we had a nice breakfast at the Palmer House. I had been pleased that my new shoes still seemed comfortable and my feet weren't sore. Then we mounted up on the truck after giving it another once over. We dropped off Jake's bag. We picked up some deli at Hungarian and headed back to Omaha. We stopped at the quad cities for some gas. Then we stopped in Des Moines for some more good deli at Maccabee Deli and more fuel at the Costco. Then we ran the last two hours home.

Somewhere west of Quad Cities Travis asked, "What happened in the middle of that gunfight?"

It was a polite question considering that I had broken all the rules we had established in long drills that I had insisted upon.

"I'm sorry, I know I let the two of you down, but I saw a sniper up on that roof and knew that he would begin punching our tickets any second. The time it would have taken me to explain would have been enough for him to kill us." I answered.

Somewhat mollified Travis responded, "Well that makes sense."

Then I admitted what I had done and said on the roof.

"You said what?" Travis said in the angriest tone I had ever heard from someone who clearly thought of being laconic as a religious principal.

"I know. It was kind of crazy." I answered sheepishly.

"You know, those Alphas were closer to the doors than we were and that's where they landed. It could well be that these Fomos," Travis still never pronounced "Fomor" correctly, "were at war with them, not us. In fact, that's what I remember us discussing about the lay of the land before we got to Chicago. The Alphas seem like nice folks and I'm grateful to them for helping Jake out, but I don't remember where in the conversation we agreed to go to war or die for them."

Everything Travis was saying could be true. I could have just done something really stupid. I could very well have just picked a fight with a MUCH bigger fish for no good reason. If one didn't know about Todd and Betty, it could have seemed like that ambush was mostly about the werewolves, not us.

"Everything you said is true. You could be right, except for one thing. Todd and Betty were there." I said.

"Todd and Betty were there?" Travis said.

Travis and Jake knew who Todd and Betty were, but they didn't know what I had done for them. Telling someone that you gave somebody else nice presents sounds boastful and prideful and I didn't want to be either. Nor did I want to sound like I was. However, now it was germane to the conversation, so I explained.

"That was nice, but that gave the bad guys a handle." Travis said a bit uncharitably.

That's when Jake decided to chime in, "If the bad guys needed a handle and they didn't have Todd and Betty, they might have used Kelly and Miranda."

That took the wind out of Travis' sails.

"So, what now?" Travis said.

I had been stewing since the moment I had popped the electronics, "We know White Man was connected to Ha. There's a strong likelihood that White Man is connected to the Fomor. Nothing I saw confirms anything with certainty, but it all tends to support. That said, we're already at war with White Man and enjoying an apparent armistice. We had hoped he would never come back and decide that as a group we were too big a fish to fry. The move in Chicago could have been an effort to gauge just how far we've come, just how big a fish we are. They had a lot of recording gear on that roof and had already refrained from shooting for some time. The most likely reason to have Todd and Betty there would be to make sure we decided to engage rather than withdraw from a fight we didn't feel was ours. I could make something up that sounds good as an excuse, but I said what I said on that roof because I was pissed. That said, it may have been the best thing. Trying to sound mealy mouthed could have sounded weak. Weakness invites attack. I doubt it will make much difference either way, but sounding strong may make them think twice and, whatever happens, I'd rather go out with my boots on then on my knees begging."

Travis nodded agreement to that.

All that I said was true, but I was also still thinking and had a long drive to do little else. The primary goal of the attack had seemed to be recon. If so, the Fomor had paid a heavy price. Including the one I put paid to on the roof my estimate was at least six dead, several others seriously wounded. My number wasn't perfect. Some of their dead and wounded they carried away, some they left. I had my helmet footage which was reviewed several times. That said, I didn't see the whole fight. I don't know how cheap their grunts are, but that had to sting. Further, my move on the roof would have denied them most of what they were looking for. Would that provoke another attack? Would it warn them off?

Jake then said, "What do we tell the girls?"

What indeed.

Since we had said good-bye to Ha, I had replenished the larder, so to speak. I recruited Kaylee who was entering the hospitality management MBA program. Kaylee was a former volleyball star standout in the University of Nebraska's nationally well recognized program. She stood seven two, most of that in long, toned, leg. She had long blond hair that went down to her rear and endowments which looked nice but when one realized how tall she was, one realized how remarkable they were. Kaylee came from small town Nebraska and was also a really nice girl. Holly came back from Guam for a couple weeks to show Kaylee the ropes and yes, I had compared their endowments and Kaylee had more to be grateful for. Mostly it was so nice not to have to waste another day cleaning toilets and vacuuming endless floors.

Miranda and Kelly helped me pick out Yumi from the Chef program. Yumi was second generation Nisei. At the risk of sounding racially insensitive, it seems to me that Japanese women, very attractive as they might be, have an advantage over their Caucasian counterparts in hips, thighs and rear ends, but tended to be short and poorly endowed. Yumi had at least one Caucasian ancestor because the elements of earth and water had mixed well in her. While having the natural advantages of her race, she was also fairly tall at five seven, had blue eyes and would need far more than a training bra. Yumi was also a great cook. She was a step behind Miranda in breakfast items, but, not surprisingly, had a far more natural touch with dishes like teriyaki, tempura and sushi, some of my favorite foods. I've mentioned Omaha's restaurant weakness before and one area it's weakest is Japanese food. I've been to many Japanese restaurants and have yet to find a decent one in the region, much less Omaha. So Yumi would be very welcome.

Kaylee and Yumi were big changes, but not nearly as big as The Lodge. Kelly and Miranda had graduated Suma Cum Laude and had many offers each that would be lucrative, help them develop as chefs and potentially help them promote themselves personally allowing them to become very successful. I was terrified. The obvious thing for the two of them to do would be scatter to the four winds and take Travis and Jake with them.

That scared me. I'd gone through a lot hoping to gain allies. In a simple snap, everything I'd worked for and all the danger I'd faced could be meaningless. I knew I could manipulate Kelly and Miranda, a little seeming, maybe a little dabbling, I could make them stay. I would also lose all my self-respect.

I kept my mouth shut and my magic to myself and went to my smithy. I started working on an Ulfberht sword to focus my concentration so I didn't start doing anything I might regret later. I wasn't terribly successful with the sword making. I'd had quite the crash course in blade and smithy work, but I was still very much a beginner. An Ulfberht sword is likely one of the most complex things one might ever smith. Some things could only be learned by doing and practice. I had to accept failure in repeated efforts to achieve the goal of competence.

After a few days I noticed Kelly and Miranda spending a lot of time together. I happened to come down late for breakfast one morning and noticed they were the only one's still there.

"Have the two of you decided what your next step is?" I asked, trying to feign casual disinterest.

Kelly replied, "We've decided not to accept any of the offers and open a restaurant of our own here in Omaha."

"That's nice." I said trying to maintain my composure. "If you need any investors, let me know."

"We're perfectly capable of doing this ourselves." Miranda said quite archly.

They were both giving me matching patronizing looks that said I was a total idiot to think they would need my help.

"Well, if you need an investor. You know how to find me." I said taking my plate and my drink with me and beating a hasty retreat. I could hear them both giggling.

A few weeks later, as I worked in my machine shop office, I looked up to see they had let themselves in.

"We'd like to talk to you." Miranda began.

They needed an investor. They'd had a few weeks to do some research and realize just how crazy expensive opening a restaurant could be. They had some ideas and some sketches that looked like a good idea to me. I helped.

"Do you want some decorating ideas?" I asked.

"NO!" Kelly answered too fast.

"Then I'll leave the decorating to you two." I answered.

They still didn't want any ideas from me, or it wouldn't be 'their' place. My money though, that they were okay with taking. I could see how their attitude would upset some people. It didn't much bother me. If they stayed in Omaha, Travis and Jake stayed with them.

I attended several planning sessions, doing my best to keep my opinion to myself. They kept having problems coming to agreement on choice after choice. After three such sessions I'd had enough.

"I think I see what the problem is." I said.

Kelly and Miranda, clearly annoyed at each other both snapped at me, "What!?"

"I believe that you lack an overall theme. With a theme, each individual design decision would become clearer. Further, reviewing your ideas for a rustic look and menu, I have an idea." I answered

"Okay, what's your idea?" Kelly asked actually looking a little curious.

"In the great age of exploration, great exploration societies like the Royal Geographic Society and the National Geographic Society would set up luxurious lodges in far flung parts of the globe as forward operating bases to facilitate future exploration." I said.

"What does that have to do with us?" Miranda replied.

"As far as I am aware, no such lodge was ever built in this region. After Lewis and Clark passed through, further exploration and settlement happened too quickly. Our conceit would be that such a lodge was built, and this restaurant is it." I offered.

"That's actually pretty good." Kelly said with some reluctance.

"Yeah." Miranda with a tone of surprise I didn't think was entirely warranted.

"Perhaps you can start with it as a working idea, and, if you come up with something better later, you can change?" I suggested.

"Yeah that makes sense." Answered Miranda.

"Let's go with that for now." Kelly agreed.

After that, design questions went much more smoothly.

I quietly arranged the purchase of a big honk of land on Dodge, a major Omaha thoroughfare, across from the Children's Hospital and several lots nearby of struggling businesses. I had everything demolished and graded. I brought in and introduced Kelly and Miranda to a good architect who took the project in hand.

The Lodge, the name and theme stuck, was still a Monolithic Dome. However, with heavy use of timber and stone, it looked like something that might have been built on the frontier back in the eighteenth century. One unusual feature was "wasting" a large swath of land on garden. The idea was that the side of the restaurant where patrons sat would look out at something that, with good landscape design, would give a sense of peaceful pre-urban sylvan beauty. Parking lots and streets would be kept on the side of the kitchen and reception areas.

The restaurant would be open in the morning for breakfast and lunch till two, then close for a few hours and re-open for dinner. It was amazing what the girls, and it was their doing not the architect's or mine, figured out to make the place lighter and airier in the morning and more dark leathers, wood and stone in the evening. There was a state-of-the-art kitchen with much nicer fixtures then they could have ever hoped to afford on their own, but which would help in food quality and minimizing human work load. A diner with a discerning palate will want a substantial amount of human labor in his food, for example, a human sous chef to make fresh ingredients from scratch every day. It really doesn't matter to the diner whether the grease traps in the ventilation above the stove are human hand washed or automated self-washing, except that self-washing machines probably do a better job. Ditto for deep fryers and dish washers. They would also save the girls huge money on labor.

The dining area was divided into a large dining room and bar. The dining room was set up to be spread out booths with comfy cushioned seats each with a nice view of the garden. The bar was interior and had some video screens for sporting events.

There was also a reception area. Since the place served breakfast, it would need a top of the line coffee bar. Which, unlike some lame chain, actually made high quality coffee, tea and hot chocolate. They also had was oranges recently orange juice. Of course, the danish were real, baked that morning or the night before and there were breakfast sandwiches using their incredible high-quality ingredients. One could order these things in the restaurant or buy them fast in the reception area. This sucked in huge business from the medical complex across the street and the huge surge in commuters who funneled down Dodge every morning.

In the evening, the reception area morphed into a place where one waited for one's table and perhaps mingled about as an extension of the bar. The Lodge would become a major "place to go" after arts performances where artists and major local patrons would meet and greet, hanging out in the bar and reception area over drinks and small food plates.

The food was as good as one might imagine. Breakfast was great. It's amazing how much actual high-quality ingredients taste made fresh by hand. They embarrassed a lot of other breakfast places in town, but dinner is where they really shined.

The menu was re-written every night. They tended to have categories, but what was in that category could change. For example, they would have a fish dish almost every night, but that dish depended what came and looked good on the plane. Omaha, like many US cities has a daily air delivery of fresh fish, which is about as fresh as you can get when you're over a thousand miles from the nearest ocean. However, which wild caught item comes fresh and smelling good can and does change every day. If you're looking at a menu that has "Salmon" printed permanently, you have to assume it's crappy stuff from a freezer. So, there's generally a fish item, but it depends what's on the plane. If there's nothing good on the plane, and that happens, even on some Fridays in Lent, then there's no fish. There's also an ever-changing pasta dish and chicken dish. However, the heart of the menu is steak. They have very good, grass fed beef, turned into exquisite, made to order meals. For most places, that would be enough, but they also have excellent Bison, which is more protein rich than beef, but lower cal than chicken. I personally love Bison, it's a little more expensive but the taste is amazing. I might add they have a very nice smoker so there are frequent smoked meat options on the menu as well. The smoked bison ribs are divine.

The heart of the heart of what makes the Lodge's menu special is wild game. The Lodge will pretty consistently have wild caught antelope, venison or elk available on the menu. That points to Travis' new vocation, he's the Lodge's in-house Hunter. Travis makes a point of knowing when and where legal hunts are happening around the country, getting permits, traveling to them in his Jeep Truck, and bringing home meat. It means Travis is away a lot, but he's doing what he loves, and getting well paid for it. Is it a risk for Travis to be out by himself? Yes, but it would take some serious intel to know when he's leaving and where he was going, making setting up an ambush hard, particularly as Travis will always try and take an alternate road home. Yes, it's still dangerous because we have one fewer gun hand back at the ranch when he's gone, but we have to live our lives. We could hide in a bunker and eat powdered food, but we still wouldn't be perfectly safe, and it wouldn't be much of a life.

The Lodge could keep prices relatively low below because they weren't really paying for their location and equipment which is a huge part of the bill in most restaurants and they also had lower labor costs with state-of-the-art kitchen technology. Further, they knew if they ran into a problem, they had a strategic financial reserve, me.

The day the Lodge opened, Jake turned twenty-one. He'd been working around town at different bars building his skills and became the main bartender at the Lodge when it opened. It was my idea to have a block of artesian water ice, frozen to minus one hundred degrees sitting on a cooling slab in the middle of the bar top. Every time someone ordered a drink with ice, there was the theater of the ice cubes being broken with a pick into irregular chunks and placed in the glass. People dug it. Of course, the main attraction was Jake behind the bar. Women noticed Jake and started to show up. Jake was like a younger, handsomer, buffer Patrick Swayze in a Chippendales outfit. I swear Kelly made sure his pants and shirts were extra tight. Women would come and they would like. It's a basic rule of bars that if women show up, men follow, and they did.

At first the restaurant was quiet, which was good because every new place needs some time to work out the kinks and figure things out. Then word of mouth got out and business started to come. The Lodge became a big deal overnight.

Officially, for my investment, I had ten percent ownership. I had not thought of my investment in terms of financial return. However, as the restaurant became known and full every night, it looked like it would become one of my most profitable. There was a badly underserved population of people in Omaha who liked quality food and they came. The reservation book quickly became full for three months out.

I was happy because my people were happy. With the Lodge doing well, Kelly and Miranda weren't going anywhere. That meant Travis and Jake weren't going anywhere. It helped to know that Travis was happy, he was hunting and earning well doing what he loved and was made for. Jake was happy, he'd earned his GED, become a productive citizen and he wouldn't admit it, but being seen as hot stroked his ego in a way it had never been stroked before and he liked it. Jake's mother back in Lowell was ecstatic that her son had straightened up and flew right. She was thinking of moving out to Omaha to be closer to her son.

The lodge also had a small stage with a piano. Tamar started to come and sing. Like I have said before, Tamar is far from ugly, but she also isn't physically super-hot either. Victoria's Secret and Sports Illustrated aren't going to be knocking on the door. That said, Tamar knew how to wear a dress. She also knew how to play the piano and mostly she knew how to sing. She could hold that room at will. People started coming for the concerts more than the food. I was there for every one of her performances.

Tamar met someone at the Lodge after one of her concerts and got a job with a professional fund-raising firm. She became their "Designated Hitter." The one who would actually go and speak to the well-heeled donors. She got paid in a complex formula commission structure. She quickly became very successful. I watched her accounts and she stopped drawing on my credit cards and her savings, but she started buying a lot of fancy new clothes. The Subaru I had bought her got traded for a Lexus.

There was a particular horseshoe booth between the bar and the main room. It doesn't have a nice exterior view, but it did have a good view of the entire inside of the restaurant including the stage. That was my table and it was held for me each night until I called and released it. I was there a lot of nights. I paid full price and I tipped well. I also called promptly when I wasn't coming so they could use the table.

Which leads to Tamar. It would be easy to say we'd lived happily ever after, but it wouldn't be true. Part of it, I'm sure, was my fault. I could have dropped all other women, faithfully courting her to the exclusion of all others, but I hadn't. In addition to Tamar, I now had four girls living in my home. Which doesn't include the hijinks around Holly's return visit. I have girls in other ports like my corporate attorney in Chicago and the Speer-mint twins. There's a list of women around Omaha who have made it clear they would like return visits to the garret and then we live in a modern age. I'm on a number of local arts boards. If a performer comes through who happens to be sexy, female and prepared to be seduced, well it happens. It's not like a Brittney Spears or Lady Gaga has found her way to my garret, but my garret has known more than one prima donna. In my own defense, and yes, I know it's very thin, I can say the garret gets a lot less business than it did before Tamar.

That said, there are periods when we are so close. We spend every waking moment with each other. I'm not comfortable and can't function in her absence. Then there are other periods when I don't want her around. She's has a better sensitivity to this cycle and always knows when to give me room. Do the close times mean I'm hopelessly in love with her and should marry her and start making babies? Do the don't want her around periods mean it's just an infatuation that I should let run it's course? I don't know.

I did hear Tamar and Kelly having a conversation about it at one point.

"Doesn't it bother you that he sleeps around with all those women?" Kelly asked in a frustrated and puzzled tone of voice.

"Not really." Tamar answered in her superhumanly calm and knowing way.

"It doesn't?" Kelly responded incredulously.

"Every couple has to set the boundaries that work for them." Tamar answered cryptically.

"Boundaries?" Kelly asked.

"Would it bother you to find out Jake had gone to Hooters or watched a Victoria's Secret fashion show on TV?" Tamar answered a question with a question as she so loves to do.

"No, not really, I guess. He actually does that and it just revvs him up for me." Kelly answered.

"How about if you caught him making out with a waitress?" Tamar continued.

"That would be a real problem." Kelly answered.

"What if you found he had been lured to the bar storage closet by three bikini models and was having sex with all three?" Tamar asked.

"That would totally end it. I would kick him out and not take him back." Kelly said in a tone that implied she felt proud about this as it showed she had self-respect.

"There are women who would think going to Hooters was as bad as the bikini models. I'm sure you've heard of women with looser standards too." Tamar answered.

"Well, yeah." Kelly answered.

"Jack having a lot of girlfriends on the side doesn't really bother me." Tamar answered.

"Why not and why don't you sleep around some too?" Kelly continued, clearly not getting it.

"You think I should try and get Jake back for a little extra-curricular activity then?" Tamar teased.

"No way! I meant with other guys." Kelly answered, clearly a bit threatened.

"Other guys don't interest me much." Tamar answered.

"Are you a lesbian?" Kelly asked.

"No, I prefer being with men." Tamar answered matter of factly.

"I've seen you at the restaurant, plenty of quality guys would like to take you home." Kelly answered.

"That's true, but very few men really interest me." Tamar said cryptically again.

"Why?" Kelly asked.

"There are very few men in the world who have certain attributes I desire. Of those, many are already spoken for. Of the remainder, many are insane or broken. Compared to them, Jack's quirks seem very minor." Tamar answered in the vague way that she loves which seems to answer the question, but really only exposes a thousand more questions.

"Maybe, but I've seen the way he looks at you. If it bothers you, just tell him he has to make a choice. I'm sure he'll choose you." Kelly said matter of factly.

"If Jack and I are to be together, we will be together for a very long time. It would be bad to start by being a denier, demanding that he give things up for me. It will create a resentment that will echo through our whole relationship. Jake is young, he hasn't had time to grow attached to many things. But imagine if you demanded he give up riding his motorcycle? There are women who do because it is dangerous." Tamar answered.

"He would give up the motorcycle, but he would always resent it." Kelly answered, starting to get it a bit.

"If Jack gives up the girls on the side because he genuinely doesn't want them anymore, that would be fine. If he needs his fun on the side to feel manly and cool, then it's a quirk I'm prepared to live with. In the end though, what happens must emerge organically, because he wants it and I want it, or it won't work." Tamar said with her customary certainty.

"I guess it is your choice. Are you saying you caught Jake in the storeroom with three bikini models?" Kelly asked with a note of concern.

"No, no, you need not worry. Jake is totally devoted to you. I can tell." Tamar answered merrily.

They giggled for a bit and the conversation shifted to other topics before Kelly left to get some work done at the Lodge.

I also felt there was something playing below the surface beyond what was spoken. I think Tamar got a kick out of me having so many women. To tame a man so in demand would be quite the validation for her. At the same time, I think, she felt like I might lose interest if she made it too easy to get her. It seemed like we were two celestial bodies in orbit, whether we would merge or go our own ways was still not clear.

We had talked about her self-defense needs. I had made her a long thin knife she could easily conceal. I had worked strength into the blade for stabbing as well as wicked cutting ability. It was like a long razor with a light plastic handle.

It turned out Tamar was not interested in joining us for Three-Gun. Roughing it in the woods, or even the RV, was not her thing. She only wanted a pistol. We went to a local indoor range and tried a wide variety of different pistols in different calibers. She ended up picking 40 S&W as a caliber, which was very convenient and, at my suggestion, got a Glock 23. 40 S&W was a shortened version of the 10 mm. That meant I could use all the same components of my cartridges for hers except for brass. I got her a Glock 23, did a bit of breathing on it to make it easier to use and made her three mags of Stage 6. I'd be lying if I said I never thought about what would happen if one of those Stage 6s hit my armor.

It's a funny thing making weapons and armor for someone else. What happens if those weapons get turned on you? Do you really trust this person so much that you know, for sure, that you're not giving them the knife that will end up in your back? Or your heart?

*** And now a word from our sponsor! ***

Please don't miss that this is the second exciting book in this series. The original Warlock of Omaha and sequel Warlock of Omaha Cubed are also on this site! Someday soon the latest, Warlock of Richmond may join them!

If you enjoy Star Wars and my writing, you may also enjoy a series of three Star Wars novels I have written, all called Legend of the Harp!

I have also recently released a Star Trek novel. It's called Star Trek: Lost Destiny. Please consider this an invitation to read it.

This writer, like the story teller in the market of old, now has a hat out hoping for a small gratuity. There is no obligation and I'm grateful you took a moment to read. However, if my writing has found favor in your eyes, please take a moment to go to:

Pay

Pal

.me

/hemaccabe

and throw in a little something, a dime, a quarter, a dollar, etc.

While I love to write, I do have a spouse and a child and a job and many other claims on my time that don't understand why I would spend so many hours banging on a keyboard. A small tangible return would help smooth the way to allow me to provide many more stories.

Please help. Thank-you.