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When I met her, Miranda pretended not to know who I was. We had been introduced through a mutual friend, and I had been wary. There had been interest from other women, but the relationships had been short and sweet when I had realized they were not there for me, but for my bank balance. Miranda had seemed different, and like a fool, I had actually believed she had no idea who I was. I was not so arrogant to believe I was famous or anything. Creating an app did not equate to Hollywood-type fame. It wasn’t Instagram!
Later, I discovered she had known who I was all along, but when we talked about it, she had given me some lame excuse. Of course, it looks lame now, as I think back on it. At the time, my naivety was still intact. Apparently, she feared that if she told me the truth, I wouldn’t have given her a chance. That ought to have been the first alarm bell. But as loud as it rang, I ignored it.
What an idiot.
As my wife, she had access to my accounts, and thus, I don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to theft. Gary has already told me the judicial system will laugh me out of court if I try to put that argument forward. And so, I’m forced to play her game for as long as she wants to play it. A game called Bleed Finn Dry for All He’s Got.
This has dragged out for so long, I just want to be rid of her. I want to put her and her sticky little fingers out of my life forever. But Miranda is smarter than that, hence the reason the showbiz sites are having such a ball. It’s a juicy story for them, and she’s throwing them fresh meat at every opportunity. She thinks it’ll gain her the sympathy vote in the long run. I’ve been around these people long enough to know that she’s probably right.
“So, what do you want to do?” Gary asks.
I heave a sigh and drop my shoulders. I really don’t know how much more of this stress I can take. I just want it all to end. “Just give her whatever she wants,” I blurt.
“What!?” Gary yells through the phone. “Are you out of your mind?”
At this point, I could easily say yes to that question.
“Listen, man, you’ve had a lot on your plate these last few months,” Gary says, his tone a little less judgmental. “But now, you’re back home with your folks. I want you to take a few days and rest up. Miranda can certainly wait. I’ll call you in a few days when the dust has settled a little bit. Take some time out and relax. All right?”
This is Gary telling me not to make a stupid decision. Not to rush into anything I will later regret. He was a good guy. “All right,” I reply.
“Okay, Buddy. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”
Of course, I don’t relax after I hang up. In fact, I spend the rest of the afternoon firefighting. Shares are dropping at the news of my divorce, and my people are beginning to panic. I, on the other hand, am not panicking at all. We’ve faced worse slumps. Things will even themselves out again. They always do.
* * *
When Mom calls upstairs to say dinner is ready, I’m a little surprised. I can hardly believe the afternoon has passed so quickly. Closing my laptop down, I discard my vest top and throw on a shirt. Apart from the fact I know better than to dress like I just fell out of bed, Mom will kill me if I turn up for dinner dressed like that.
When I arrive in the dining room, everyone is already seated.
“Ah, there you are,” Mom says. “Come on, sit down before this gets cold.”
As usual, Dad is sitting at the head of the table. Mom’s seat is to his left, and there’s an empty chair to his right. Emma is sitting beside Mom, and Sylvie is sitting in the chair beside mine.
Mom’s passing the huge bowl of potatoes to Dad when Emma begins to speak.
“I just want to say how truly sorry I am for last night,” she begins in a small voice. “For all the trouble I caused.”
Dad swipes a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it, kid,” he says casually. He then chuckles, “I have to admit, you’re the best alarm system I’ve ever come across.”
We all laugh. Even Emma, who, with that comment, seems to relax a little. Dad always did have a wicked sense of humor and an easy way about him. It takes a lot to stress Dad out. I don’t know whether it’s because he’s spent years running a business and he’s seen it all, or if he’s always been like that. Mom and Dad started the business as a newly married couple, before me and Sylvie came along, so I have no idea what his temperament was like before that. I’ve just always known him as an easy-going guy who can make light out of any situation.
“I was also thinking,” Emma says, “about whether I might be able to earn my way.”
This comment elicits a confused frown from both Mom and Dad.
“Well,” she continues, “you’ve been so kind in letting me stay here until everything is sorted. I think it’s only right that I give back something in return. I’m here in the house all day while you are all out working. There must be something I can do.”
“Oh, not at all, dear,” Mom says, shaking her head. “You’re our guest. Don’t you worry about that.”
“I appreciate that,” Emma replies, in a tone that conveys she’s not taking no for an answer. “But I’m going to be here for a few weeks. I’m here all day. I’m sure there is something that I can do that perhaps you don’t have time for, given that you work such long hours.”
“Emma,” Dad says. “While we appreciate your offer, we simply could not ask you to do things in the house. Besides, you should spend these hours relaxing. Once you get your teeth into this job, you’ll be kept busy.”
“But that is just it,” Emma replies, not letting Dad’s refusal sway her. I’m beginning to admire her tenacity, and I try to hide my smile while I eat. She continues, “If I am honest, Mr. Brecken—”
“Danny, please,” Dad cuts across her. “You’re making me feel old.”
