“I didn’t know you were cochairing a fundraiser. How long have you been working on it?”
“This is our first meeting.” Darius was uncomfortable with Simon’s sudden interest in his life after thirty-four years.
“Oh.” Simon stepped farther into the cubicle. “Well, how many people are in the group?”
“We haven’t asked for volunteers yet.” Darius had a sense of foreboding.
“I’d be happy to help.” Simon rocked on his heels as though he’d solved all of Darius’s problems. His father didn’t seem to realize he was one of them.
“You’ve never served on a committee before.” In fact, his father had never volunteered for anything.
“There’s a first time for everything, son.”
“We need people who are willing to work hard. This fundraiser needs to move fast. We want to raise a lot of money in a short amount of time.”
“Then I’m your man.”
Somehow Darius had a hard time believing that. “This is strictly a volunteer assignment. No one’s getting paid.”
“I know.”
Darius eyed the older man suspiciously. “Then why do you want to do this?”
Simon’s gaze slid away from Darius and wandered around the office space. What was his father looking for? There wasn’t anything of a personal nature in his cubicle: no certificates, awards, photos, or knickknacks. Just a bunch of project folders, reference books, two coffee mugs, and a guest chair he’d pilfered from an empty cubicle. Darius didn’t know why he’d made the decision to keep his cubicle impersonal. He just preferred it that way.
His father faced him again. “I’m bored.”
“Then clean your apartment.”
“I did.”
“I’m glad.” And very, very surprised.
“I got caught up with all my bills. I even went grocery shopping.” Simon made a face. “I’m not looking forward to doing that again.”
Darius paused. “Have you ever gone to the grocery store before?”
Simon shoved his hands into the front pockets of his gray winter coat. He jiggled the coins he kept in there. “About thirty-four years ago.”
Darius shouldn’t have been surprised. Growing up, he’d known who was in charge of the Knight family household, and it hadn’t been his father. Ethel must have felt as though she were a single mother with two children instead of a married woman raising a son with the help of another responsible adult.
He checked his watch. “I’d better get going.”
Simon held up a hand. “What about my helping with the fundraiser?”
How could he get out of this? “Peyton and I need to put together a group of people with various skills. How much experience do you have working with a project team?”
“Are you kidding?” Simon raised his brows. “I had a lot of coworkers when I worked for the post office. I know how to work with other people.”
How well had he worked with those people? Darius remembered his father coming home, complaining nonstop about everyone, from supervisors to customers.
“What skills would you bring to this fundraiser?”
Simon cocked his head. “Are you interviewing me for a job? I’m your father. Put me on the committee.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“It should.”