The Botanist Read Online Free PDF Page B

inspection.
    “Sour cream and chives? Your father’ll love those.”
    “We’ll see,” Cody muttered, plunking himself down in one of the wooden chairs that ringed the kitchen table.
    His mother shot him a disapproving look.
    “Where is Dad anyway?”
    “He’s outside at the barbeque. I know he’d love it if you said hi.”
    Cody didn’t think his mother knew any such thing, but he didn’t say so. Seeing his expression, she brandished a salad fork at him.
    “Your father’s in a good mood, Cody. Don’t ruin it.”
    “Good mood? What about?”
    “Well . . . I . . . it’s his news to tell, but it’s part of the reason we invited you over tonight. I’m sure he’ll tell you over dinner. Go out and see if he needs any help, and try not to ruin the happy-family-togetherness thing.”
    Smirking, Cody got to his feet and went out onto the back deck, sliding the heavy glass door closed behind him.
    “Hey, Dad.”
    Norman Oliver had been handsome when he was younger and now, with salt and pepper hair and a well-groomed beard, he looked like a distinguished gentleman. Today the image was marred by the floppy chef’s hat settled precariously over his ears and the grease-stained, hot-dog-print apron that covered his polo shirt and cargo pants.
    “Cody! Great to see you.”
    “Thanks. You too.”
    An awkward silence descended and Cody’s father went back to his grill.
    “Can I help?” Cody asked.
    His father turned. “Why don’t you bring me that seasoning there?”
    Cody turned to where his father pointed and picked up the bottle of Smokey-BBQ Seasoning. He took it over to stand opposite his father on the other side of the grill. The hamburger patties had already been seasoned, but his father opened the bottle and sprinkled a little more on for Cody’s benefit.
    “So,” Cody said, “Mom said you had some news?”
    “I do. I’d like to wait ’til we’re all around the table, if that’s all right.”
    Cody nodded. “Speaking of, how much longer ’til the meat’s ready? I’m starved.”
    His father grinned proudly. “Any minute, now.”
    Fifteen minutes later found them all around the table. After saying grace, they dug into the food. Cody definitely missed home-cooked meals. Detective work was often synonymous with bad take-out.
    Around mouthfuls of flame-kissed hamburger meat, he asked his mother about her scrapbooking business. She launched into a thirty minute tirade about trouble getting acid-free slip covers from her vendor, because they were trying to charge her twice what the larger company in Salt Lake was getting.
    “I mean, I know it’s a bigger company and they order more than I do, but they promised me the same pricing agreement. If the price of the covers themselves hasn’t gone up, then they have no reason to charge me more, right?”
    Cody nodded along, making certain to take his mom’s side in every detail, or risk not sampling dessert, which he’d glimpsed when she asked him to get the soda from the fridge. It was some sort of fruit pie. He didn’t even care what kind; he just wanted some.
    By the time she’d finished, Cody and his father had cleaned their plates, though due to her chatter, his mother hadn’t come close.
    “So.” She tried to kick her husband in the shins under the table, but missed and kicked Cody instead. He didn’t think she realized, so he didn’t tell her. “About time for your news, isn’t it, dear?”
    Cody’s father nodded. “I suppose it is. Cody, you know I do most of my consulting from home. The internet allows me to do most of it online, via email, or over the phone, which has worked out beautifully since my shoulder started acting up again.”
    Cody nodded. He knew all of that. “Do you use that video phone of yours much?”
    “Much?” His father’s grin widened. “I told you it was the telephone of the future, didn’t I? Most of my telephone conferences are also video conferences now.”
    Cody smiled at his father’s enthusiasm.