And The Twain Shall Meet. Jason Hill
The tower came right back. “Two Niner Zebra, traffic is clear. You are cleared to runway five. Contact ground control for further instruction.”
“Two Niner Zebra—thanks.” With that, she dropped to six hundred feet, lowered the landing gear, applied a little flap, and lined up for her assigned landing strip. She put the Baron on the ground with the expertise of a seasoned veteran, smooth as glass, which drew a look of pride from Phil. He was honestly impressed, but not really surprised.
After getting the word from ground control, Jana taxied to the terminal area where she looked anxiously for her dad who would be watching for them. Phil had called ahead to let Fritz know they were on the way and about when they would arrive. Sure enough, there he was looking very pleased to see them. It had been almost a year since the last time they had been together, and that was only for a few hours when Fritz was passing through Chicago on his way to Denver. He spends a good deal of time on the road.
A distinctive man in his brown pinstriped three-piece Brooks Brothers suit, he looks hale and healthy, despite the fact that he carries two hundred and ten pounds on his five-foot-nine frame. He sports a full head of silver-gray hair. Even at a distance, it was easy to see where Jana got her whiskey-brown eyes.
After shutting down, Jana ran to him and was caught in his open arms. “Dad,” she almost shouted. “What a joy this will be—two whole weeks. I hope I don’t wear out my welcome.”
“You could never do that, sweetheart,” said Fritz. “We have a lot of catching up to do. I have to show you my new house too.”
“You didn’t tell us about that.” It was Phil, who just wandered over to join the conversation. “Did it happen recently?”
“Hi to you, too, Phil. Is that how you always greet people?” Fritz chortled. “But to answer your question, yes, very recently. I just moved in last week. Since my phone number didn’t change, I was able to save the secret until you got here. I’ve seen the miniature palace you guys call home, but I think you’ll be impressed with mine as well. I know I am.”
“Okay! Let me get the Baron bedded down for the night so Jana and I can go and be amazed.”
Phil left Jana and Fritz alone for a few minutes to arrange for refueling and overnight tie-down. The weather was excellent. No need to invest in hangar space for one short night.
Fritz drove out of the airport on Poplar Drive. He assured them the wait would not be long. In less than ten minutes, he took them up Fruitridge to Riley and then to the right on Adams, where he pulled into his drive. He had told them they would be impressed but that turned out to be a gross understatement. The house is big—very big. It might be best described as Victorian Modern, if there is such a thing. The front yard was as imaginative as the building, with simple but neat landscaping. Along the lot line on both sides stood rows of tall, narrow White Spruce trees that created an arboreal frame for the overall picture. Bracketing the entranceway were a pair of Austrian Pines that filled most of the available space. It was obvious that this is not a something that had just been done, but it was easy to see that it had been tenderly attended to.
“This is one big surprise,” said Phil, gawking at the scene before him. “How long did it take you to put this deal together?”
“Not long. It came on the market last month. At the price the previous owner was asking and after a little finagling, I snapped it up before he could change his mind. He was in a bit of a bind. He had recently been transferred to Dallas and knew he didn’t want to be saddled two house payments. What do you think, Jana? You’re being pretty quiet. That’s not like you.”
“Let’s just assume that if the inside is anything like the outside. I may remain mute for a while longer. Believe me, Dad, I love it so far. It’s so different from your old house. How did you manage it?”
“That was no problem,” said Fritz, a little chagrinned by her question. “Between my full-time job and the outside consulting I do, I get on very well. I don’t have anyone else to spend my money on, so why not? In any event, the house is a good investment, so how could I go wrong?”
“Absolutely,” interjected Phil. He and Jana had several properties of their own including the condominium at Marina City where Jana had lived before they met. They still use it for an in-town hideaway from time to time. The value has skyrocketed since they paid off the mortgage nine years ago. Should they ever decide to sell it, they will realize a nice profit. “Now we’re ready for the Cooke’s Tour.”
The interior was as advertised. They entered through a marble-floored foyer with a small koi pond complete with a fountain. From there, Fritz took them to an immense living room, at least thirty by fifty feet in length and width. They went down three steps from the foyer to the cathedral-ceilinged chamber fit for a king to hold royal audiences. Along the far wall, the entire far wall is a fieldstone fireplace large enough to roast a whole pig with room to spare. Jana didn’t recognize any of the furniture from her father’s old digs, but he explained that all of what she saw came with the deal. Sofas, chairs, and tables were arranged in several small groupings to somewhat reduce the size of the space available. Next, up three steps on the left side, was the dining room. A table long enough to comfortably seat ten in ladder-back chairs takes up most of the room without crowding. Two tasteful Old English tapestries cover the opposing side walls, and beneath each of them is an antique buffet. The adjoining kitchen would do any five-star restaurant proud. The central work area contained a six-burner gas range over which was a utility rack with copper pots and pans all hanging in neat rows. Twin ovens were side by side on an adjacent wall. All around were more oak cabinets than they could count.
“That’s enough for now,” said an obviously proud Fritz. “I’ll save the rest for later. Let’s go sit down for a while before I treat you two to a dinner you won’t soon forget. That’s another surprise that I’ll hold back for now. You can stay that long, can’t you, Phil?”
“Better than that, Fritz, I’m going to stay until morning. That will give us a little time before I have to leave you and this tasty morsel I married.”
Jana couldn’t let that one pass. “I know you just want one last roll in the hay before you go away for two whole weeks. That’s okay with me. I do too.”
“You bet, princess. I’ll give you something to remember me by, as if you need reminding.”
Then it was Fritz’s turn. “Before you get too far ahead of the game, we should have time for a drink before we leave for dinner. What would you say to Chivas on the rocks? I assume that’s still what you both would choose.”
“Sounds good,” said Jana. “Now, tell us about dinner. You can be as bad as Phil with your little secrets, Dad.”
Fritz backed down but not very far. “All right, I’ll tell you this much and no more. It’s a place down on Third Street that opened for business recently to great reviews. Now that’s it until we get there.”
They were not disappointed when they arrived at the Gasthaus Stefan. It was everything and more than was promised. They were welcomed at the door, just in time for their seven-o’clock reservation, by Ginger Stefan. Although she is a native of Indianapolis, she fits perfectly in the Austrian décor she and her husband, Kurt, who came from Salzburg, have created. Seated at their table, they discovered a diverse menu that could please any palate. On Fritz’s recommendation, Phil ordered the steak Dianne, while Jana, always a seafood lover, opted for the crab bisque. For Dad, it was a simple Wiener schnitzel. On the advice of their waiter, they accompanied it all with a bottle of Austrian Zweigelt wine from the vineyards of Manfred Turistisch, which they thoroughly enjoyed. Actually, they ordered a second bottle before they finished their meal.
As all three were sipping Remy Martin and coffee after having reveled in a thoroughly delectable repast, they were more than pleased to meet Kurt Stefan, who was making the rounds of all the tables. He inquired about their food and service and was happy to hear nothing but the highest praise.
Back home, it was time to trade memories by a blazing fire in Fritz’s