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“Jackson, this is the second time I’ve gotten pictures of you at one of your clubs. I thought that after the last time I had to have you removed by my security team, you would have learned your lesson about going to these places. It isn’t Aiden’s job to be traipsing after you all over Philly. It also isn’t my job to pay off the ‘ladies’ you indiscriminately spend your time with.”
I hand him a stack of pictures I had in a folder on my father’s desk.
He takes them without any sort of emotion in his eyes. He doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic at all.
“That was one time. That girl was never going to sell those pictures. She was just angry that I wasn’t up for a repeat, and Aiden’s job is to do whatever you tell him to. Maybe having him and his team following me to clubs is exactly what he should be doing. Might loosen him up a bit to see some fun that people can have when they let their inhibitions go for a few hours. Might do you some good too.” He gives me an exaggerated wink.
I stand directly in front of him, making it clear I am annoyed with his indiscretions and his commentary on how uptight he thinks I am. “That girl most certainly would have sold those pictures to the highest bidder had I not paid her double what she was peddling them for, and had her sign an iron-clad NDA. We don’t know where these pictures even came from this time. What if these are leaked? You can’t keep doing this. I don’t have time to clean up another mess of yours. My focus needs to be on the campaign and I would appreciate it if your focus could be on staying out of trouble. And it isn’t your job to be giving Aiden or me any tips on how to have fun. Not all of us have the luxury of making a living out of having a good time.”
This hasn’t been the first time I’ve had this conversation with my brother. He doesn’t understand that some of us have to take life seriously. And he certainly doesn’t understand that those of us who do take our responsibilities seriously make it possible for him to indulge in his type of fun. If we weren’t there bailing him out of trouble, his lifestyle would have blown up in all our faces years ago. That is never a conversation I want to have with my mother or father.
“All right, brother, all right. We don’t need the star of the Hayes family getting his panties in a twist before going out to charm reporters.”
I can tell he just wants this conversation to be over and he’ll tell me whatever I want to hear to make that happen.
“I’m sure it won’t amount to anything. If they wanted to expose me, they would have sent them to the press by now. Those are two, maybe three months old. I’ll be sure to be more discreet about who and where I keep company. Scout’s honor.” He sets his scotch aside and holds up three fingers in a salute.
“You were never a Boy Scout. Too many rules for you, remember?”
He laughs, although for the life of me I don’t see what’s so damn funny about this situation. But that’s Jackson and me in a nutshell. I call him on his shit; he laughs and says he’ll get it together, and then he never does.
He stands to leave with the pictures tucked safely back into the folder. Before he opens the door, he turns to face me.
“For what it’s worth, I know you’ll do great in front of those reporters. You were born for this and I’m proud of you, too. See you out there.” He smiles with a small nod.
I return his smile. “Thanks, Jackson. That means a lot.” I return the nod. Hearing him give me his support reminds me of a time when we really wanted what was best for each other. Before I realized my dream of serving in public office and before he became the thorn in my side.
When he leaves, I’m left alone in my father’s study with my thoughts. How did Jackson and I get here? Why does he always have to poke the bear and live on just this side of the next salacious story? One thing at a time. This is not the time to be dealing with those damn pictures or try to figure out how to get Jackson to take our family’s reputation seriously. I turn to leave my father’s study, suddenly nostalgic for the friendship Jackson and I used to have. The easy camaraderie that came from being brothers and friends. But we aren’t those boys playing hide-and-seek or the teenagers with stolen scotch and lofty ideas anymore. We have real responsibilities now and actual goals. Time to go out there and make my goals a reality. Starting with charming these reporters.
