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“And I’m freezing your fund if you marry that vast waste of space,” Dad threatened.
Blake’s face flamed.
“Daddy!”
He sat and put his napkin back in his lap, stating, “You take time. Gather yourself. And for once in your goddamned life, make good decisions.”
Dad reached to his coffee.
Rix and I glanced at each other.
“Alex, Rix, please, join me,” Dad urged. “Blake, do I need to ask Cassandra to bring you a plate?”
“Gah!” Blake cried and raced out.
Dad sighed.
“Should I go after her?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t, she’ll not thank you and she won’t make it worth your time,” Dad declared, and bit into toast.
Rix sat.
So I sat.
Dad set his toast on his plate, chewed, swallowed, dotted his lips with his napkin, and for the third time that morning, looked me in the eye.
“Welcome home, my darling,” he drawled wryly.
Never.
Not in my life did what happened next happen with me and my father.
But it did then.
I burst out laughing.
Breakfast went without further incident.
And after we’d finished eating, Dad hung around, we found, because he was working from home that morning due to the fact that he was meant to be at a brunch at eleven-thirty.
Also, because I was home.
We chatted over a fresh pot of coffee that Cassandra brought in, discussing things Rix and I could do in New York now that all the wedding festivities were sure to be canceled.
In that time, Dad had been on his phone once.
To talk to his home/social/life assistant and tell her to contact his work assistants, and Cathy, not to mention the wedding planner, to put them on call to deal with all the possible cancelations.
“I’m taking charge of Cathy,” he said as he slid the phone face down on the table. “Your sister has no idea how to handle an employee. The only reason Cathy has stayed is the exaggerated salary I pay her to cope with being managed by Blake. I honest to God don’t know how the poor woman has succeeded in not murdering your sister with the numerous and contradictory demands.”
I had a sinking feeling Dad’s hopeful thoughts about the demise of Chad and Blake would be dashed, but I didn’t say anything.
Instead, I sat back and kinda marveled about how well he seemed to be getting on with Rix.
There was definitely a hint of We’re Both Men! going on from Dad’s side.
But Dad hadn’t even inferred he was going to test or challenge Rix, cerebrally or physically. No invitations for a squash game or a round of golf or request for a verbal dissertation on Santiago. And I wasn’t sure Dad knew Rix had lost his legs, so that wasn’t the reason why Dad refrained.
He was himself: not-so-subtly arrogant, plainspoken, unabashedly privileged and elitist.
But there was something…changed about him.
More relaxed.
Outside his behavior last night when he was around Mom and Blake, which was no different than usual, the only concerning thing I’d noted was how he’d slumped in his chair when Blake showed.
Until the second concerning thing happened in the middle of Rix and Dad discussing the pros and cons of the learning experiences found in foreign travel.
And how Dad felt (and I couldn’t rebut this) kids would get a great deal out of understanding there was a whole wide world out there with different cultures, languages, religions, customs, and how, in all these places, they, too, were doing good—or bad—things that affected the planet.
Dad was pro this idea (he’d always been big into travel, and I wasn’t just talking about skiing in Gstaad or visiting Capri (though, he did those too), he was an adventurer, traveling to some hard-to-get-to village in Thailand because there was a local dish that had to be tasted, or to tour a remote facility in Iceland that produced energy from the earth’s heat).
He was arguing using Hale’s money to significantly expand exchange programs or offering camps in different countries and shuffling where kids would go.
Rix wasn’t con. But, outside hitting beaches in Mexico and the Caribbean, and to go camping in Canada, he’d never left the country.
So it was Rix quizzing Dad about the value of this.
And they both looked like they were enjoying it.
And I was enjoying watching them enjoy it.
Rix had just said, “It’s expensive, and because of that, the reach would be limited.”
“Yes, Rix,” Dad replied, “but in history, it was never the masses that changed the world. It was the visionaries that changed the thinking of the masses. You reach that one child who will grow to be a visionary, he or she will lead in the charge to change the world.”
This was a good point, and I could tell Rix was pondering it (I sure was), when another feminine shout was heard.
“God! You dare! Let me in! Where is he?”
Mum.
And the second thing that concerned me that morning happened.
Dad reached out and grabbed the edge of the table.
