His office phone rings. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I need to take this call.”

“Dad?” a voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I don’t have very good reception, but can you still hear me?”

“Yes”

“Oh, good,” she sighs, then laughs, “I feel like a bad Verizon commercial! I should get money for this somehow!”

He smiles, too at the joke–a long-standing one between the two of them. “Where are you?”

“I’m driving home from work, and I need to talk. Do you have a minute, or is this a bad time?”

He does not even glance at the gentlemen waiting his return to the meeting, “I’m listening.”

“Dad, I’m stuck! I don’t know what to do exactly–no matter what I choose I’ll be wrong, and I HATE that fact!”

He lets her talk, listening to her rambling until she reaches her destination.

“Gotta go, Dad. I know my phone reception is bad, but thanks for listening. You were awfully quiet, though. You will tell me what you think, won’t you?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. We’re in this together, as always. When the time comes, you’ll know exactly what to do. Talk to me some more about it tonight, ok?”

A sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “Ok. Dad, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Click.

He returns attention to the meeting. “Gentlemen, that was my daughter. Thank you for you patience. Let’s proceed with . . . ”

His words are interrupted by the telephone again.

“Dad? It’s me again. I just hit a bird with my car! It’ so nasty! Why didn’t they fly away before I got there? I even slowed down . . .”

Come boldly . . .

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