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“Six months, a year?”
“Christ, no. I’m not waiting that long to start my life because of some old fucks. If I pull my people, does your world implode?”
“Yes.”
Dax puts his hand on my arm and pushes me back into a chair. “Dad. Where does this leave you?” he says.
“I need to figure out what’s worth fighting for.”
I offer up, “Dax would tell you it’s love. But he can’t even keep his shit locked down. And how come he never gets shit about his fucked-up love life?”
“Sophie hasn’t cost us a dime.” Dad raises his eyebrows. “A string of call girls would have cost us less than your escapades. And do you know the private jet bill your so-called new perfect love has cost us? It’s public record and the New York Post and the Boston Globe are running your bootie call tally this weekend.”
“Point taken. But believe me, she’s different this time.”
“Time will tell. It’s all we have. Your word on this matter does not have a good track record of holding onto our stock or your furniture.”
“Leave my wallet alone.”
“Son, you can’t do anything, I mean anything, to jeopardize our position, or we could lose everything. I really am sorry that you’re stuck because of things I’ve done with this company or my desire to hold on to it. You haven’t helped, but it is a really fucked-up situation.”
Dax smirks. “Everything? Bit dramatic there, Pops.”
My father doesn’t smile. “I wish I were. Tony, I’m so proud of what you’ve done with Cookery and taking that division into a space I couldn’t even envision.”
I stand up and run around the desk and hug him. He hugs me back hard. Then I dance away from him, singing a made-up song, “I do have Cookery. I have a whole hell of a lot of Cookery. Do you? Do you need some Cookery?” Dax snaps but doesn’t dance to my made-up tune. “Hey, Big Poppa, do you need some Cookery? Or do you need Bora Bora with Mom?” Our mom has always dreamed of living in a hut in Bora Bora with Dad. It makes us laugh because they’d last maybe three hours and then check into the Four Seasons.
“You can have it all, Big Poppa.” I twerk for him while rapping. “You can crush that ass in the tropics and all you have to do is dump off this fucking albatross of a legacy.”
He points to the door. I walk up to him, and he kisses me on the head.
“Pops. Get me the fuck out of this sooner than later. I can’t stay chained here. I can’t sacrifice the love of my life or the future of a lot of people who worked extraordinarily hard for me and you.”
“I know. But it’s a long fight.”
Dax addresses him, “Father. I’m tired of you being tired and cranky. What are you fighting for? We don’t want your life. Time to find your bliss.” We both grin as Dax repeats an oft-repeated phrase from our parents.
I collect my Makenzie phone and shake my ass on the way out as I hum the tune for the Cookery song.
She’s just waking up. I sent all the things I could. I wish I could go and be there. There’s a hole in my soul. That would make a great song. I’d sing it for her, but she’s kind of over me at the moment and this distance. I feel it. I know it’s not irreparable yet, but we’re close.
TONY: I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sick of saying sorry, and I know you’re sick of hearing it. But I can’t. Fuck. Congrats. I’ll be there for everything else you achieve. Or I’ll try to be. But for now I have to stay far away from you. The company is in trouble. Everything is in jeopardy. My father won’t get out and I’m stuck. I could lose Ladd Media, but I don’t want to lose you.
TONY: I don’t know what to do to salvage all of this and save you from a life of long-distance dating. But if it means choosing between my family, the company, and you—know that I’m dangerously close to getting a job at the local Reno Target and doing whatever it takes to be near you. I love you so desperately but give me a second to figure all this shit out. But, I swear, you say the word and I’m stocking candles in the home goods section. Congratulations my brilliant, beautiful witch.
TONY: You’re everything. I’m going to figure out a way to save you from a life of unanswered calls and broken promises.
mak
“Makenzie Suzanne Preston.” I take the rolled-up piece of paper that gives me chills. I’ve often been flippant about it being just a piece of paper. It doesn’t give me worth. It doesn’t. But it does tell me and everyone on the planet that I worked my ass off for this and what’s to come. I hold it up, and I’m clearly one of the oldest graduates, but the whole section stands up and cheers me. I scan the crowd. I haven’t spoken to him in two weeks, and I know he can’t be here, but I’m pissed, and it stings.
I wave and bow to the crowd and my family. My mom is so great she stands and jumps. My mom with her beautiful curves looks so beautiful. All the weight stuff was always about her health to Dad and me. But now she’s a jumping person, and that’s gorgeous, mostly because of how she feels about herself. It’s infectious. I try to put it out of my mind, but he’s not here.
I step off the stage, and someone shoves a bunch of flowers into my arms.
To adventure.
Love you, T