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Maybe striking this deal was going to be easier than he thought. Maybe she couldn’t wait to get this place off her hands.
“Meh,” said Aunt Meg, not seeming to realize that she was saying the exact same thing that was written on her t-shirt.
Isaac cleared his throat. “Listen, Aunt Meg,” he said. “I know this is a tough time for you. And looking after this ranch all on your own… It must be… a challenge.”
His aunt snorted.
“If you like,” he said, his voice as gentle as possible, “I can take it off your hands.”
Immediately, Aunt Meg’s posture changed. She sat bolt upright and her eyes widened. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Coming here, trying to steal the place now that I’m weak?”
Isaac raised his palms. “That’s not my intention, madam. I’m here to help you. No offense, Aunt, but I can see that you’re struggling.” He gestured around the room, hoping that she could see the dirt like he could. “I’m not trying to steal the ranch from you. I want to buy it off you.”
Aunt Meg’s shoulders hunched slightly. She sipped from her can of Squirt, eying Isaac warily.
“Five million dollars,” said Isaac, cutting to the chase. “That’s a generous offer. Way more than it’s worth.”
Way more than it’s worth since you ran it into the ground, anyway.
“Not a chance in hell,” said Aunt Meg, the Squirt spitting out from between her teeth.
“Alright,” said Isaac. He could see she was playing hardball. “I’ll double it. Ten million.”
That was a crazy offer, but who cared? Isaac had the money, and all that mattered to him was that he got the place.
Aunt Meg laughed. “Look at you, son. Throwing around these numbers like you’re all that and a bag of chips. It’s disgraceful. Can’t you see this is my home? It’s not for sale.”
“Fine,” said Isaac through gritted teeth. “Twenty million.”
For a while, there was silence between them. Well, not complete silence. There was the sound of a fly buzzing over by the window, banging into the glass every now and then as it tried to escape.
Aunt Meg stared at him, then she chugged down the rest of her Squirt. After a loud burp, she said, “Son, you’d need to change every single thing about yourself before I even started to consider your offer.”
Isaac frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
Disgust crawled across Aunt Meg’s face like a maggot on a pile of rotting flesh. “I know what you’re like,” she told Isaac. “I saw you grow up, remember?”
Isaac shrugged. “So?”
“I used to see you wandering around town with a different girl every night. I heard the stories of the things you used to do with those girls. Making them dress up funny and doing all sorts of unspeakable things to them.” She swallowed as if trying to get rid of a bad taste.
“I don’t see how—“
“And I know how you made all your money too, Isaac. I know that you run some kind of a—“ she whispered, ”—fetish business.”
“It’s not what you—“
“This is a good Christian ranch,” Aunt Meg snapped. “Always has been, always will be. Your poor parents. They’d be turning over in their graves if they could see the man you became.”
Isaac felt his blood starting to boil. He felt like he felt as a teenager, just after his parents had died. Powerless. Alone. Angry. His hands became fists, but he made it his mission not to let Aunt Meg see his fury. That would be game over.
“I am a Christian as it happens,” Isaac said. “There’s nothing wrong with expressing your sexuality and at the same time—“
“You’d have to be a married man for starters,” said Aunt Meg, suddenly, standing up and staring at him with a glint in her eye.
Isaac paused, taken aback. She’d thrown him a line. But at the same time, it was an impossible one to grab hold of. “You know I’m not the marrying type.”
Aunt Meg smiled wickedly. “Oh dear. Guess you’ll never get the ranch then.”
