“I’m not sure. I will meet with him this afternoon. You might wish to speak with him yourself soon. He is leaving the country next week on business.”
Leaving the country sounded like a good idea. “Does anyone else know?” I asked.
“Not yet, but they soon will. You will start getting calls. It would be better if you signaled your intentions and initiated the calls yourself.”
I was getting better at recovering. The more Fred talked, the easier it was getting to turn him down. I hadn’t thought through the consequences, though. “So who would I call?”
“Governor Bright and Senator Forrester. They represent the two main political factions. The governor’s chief of staff, Clinton Grainger, will approach you very soon, I expect. That will be critical. As I said, he has already made some moves. Forrester is more cautious but more dangerous.
“Next, your father controlled his corporations through three boards of directors, and those gentlemen and ladies will be awaiting your instructions. The businesses themselves are all capably run. There is no day-to-day management involved, just strategic decisions.
“I will arrange for you to be offered your father’s positions on nonprofit boards, particularly the opera. Those boards have a great deal of influence.”
He was talking fast, to get it all in before I had a chance to stop him. “Your father also had a large minority share of First Media, which owns the newspaper and Channel Six. Stanley Morton is the chief executive and he will be very anxious to meet you.”
“I know him. I dated his daughter at Yale.”
Katie squeezed my hand. What was she thinking? That it was a done deal? We were talking specifics, the course of action. Katie could relate to this. Or maybe she just wanted me to remember that she’d won her own war against Natalie Morton.
Fred was still listing names, but I held up my hand. “That’s enough. I understand. I’ll think about it for a while.”
“Of course, of course.” It was jarring, how he suddenly turned back into Uncle Fred.
“I don’t think I’ll change my mind.”
“I know it’s difficult. I know it’s not what you had expected. I am sorry, Jason. I truly am. But we do not always control our own destiny.”
And I’d always hated the one who controlled mine. “I was never close to him,” I said. “But I thought he knew me better.”
“I think he knew you quite well. Better than you know yourself.”
I’ve never really wanted to. My question has always been Why? not Who?
“It’ll be tough,” Eric said. “But you can do it, Jason. You can, really.”
Big brother can do anything. “So what’s in it for you?”
He beamed. “Everything I’d ever want. Right?”
“And what if I refuse it all?”
Eric laughed. “I’d kill you.” He looked at Fred. “Would I get the money then?”
“I would,” Katie said.
3
I didn’t want Eric riding his motorcycle on this planet while his mind was on another one, so we stuffed him into our car and got home for lunch. I’d told Fred I’d think about it, so I did. I was over the emotional reaction, just down to annoyance and bewilderment and being tired of it all.
Fifty million. I knew at least enough about Melvin’s business to know that Eric was wrong about that. My guess was five or six times as much, maybe. It didn’t make any difference, except the more it was, the less I wanted it.
I was curious-that was all. But ask any cat about curiosity.
With what we had now, we still managed to pay the mortgage each month. As we pulled up to the house of that mortgage, I wondered what Katie would do with real money. Our little French Provincial cottage with six bedrooms, two formal and three casual living rooms, a dining room that could seat twenty-plus the few informal areas that I actually liked-all on two acres, would only be practice.
We chose the sunny dining nook overlooking the gardens for our lunch. Rosita did a great job.
Eric revived fine, or even too much, until he was excited and babbling, overpowered by too many massive issues in too short a time. I finally kicked him out of the room so Katie could get a few words in.
“Go ahead,” I said.
“Stop being foolish.” She’d been worn raw by the tension of the morning and by the funeral yesterday, and now by her own hopes.
“Stop acting this way.”
“I’m not being foolish. I don’t want the money.”
“I do.”
“Then you’re being foolish,” I said.
“It’s right there, right in your hand. Just think!”
“I am!” I said. “Don’t you understand?”
“I do understand. You’re so twisted by how you hated him that you can’t see anything else.”
“I didn’t hate him.” We both knew I hated him.
“Then what do you call it?”
Why were we talking about him? “It’s not hate,” I said. It was being overshadowed by a mountain.
Katie backed down. “I’m sorry. It’s too much to deal with.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“It’s just that I want it,” she said. It was almost a sigh. “I want the life we’d have together.”
“We wouldn’t be together. I wouldn’t be here. Angela didn’t have Melvin, just his houses and money.”
“We’d make time for each other. It just wouldn’t be as much.”
“And it wouldn’t be me, anyway. I’d be some other person.” Maybe she wouldn’t mind that too much.
“You’ll always wonder what it would have been like,” she said.
It was true. How did she know that? I hadn’t realized it yet.
What a marksman she was to find that chink. “I think I know.”
“You haven’t had time to think.”
“I told Fred I’d think, so I’ll think.”
“What will you say to everyone?”
“Just that it’ll take a couple days. It’s a lot to deal with.”
And that was enough to revive her hope. She hugged me, and I knew we were still in it together.
I found Eric in my office, playing a Grand Prix game on the Ferrari Web site. I’d have to remember to lock the door when he was in the house.
“Have you already ordered a new car,” I said, “or are you going to at least take a day to pick a color?”
“Red, of course.”
“What number are we up to?”
“About eighty,” he said.
“Rule number 80. Don’t buy anything for one month after your father dies.”
He grinned. “I was just looking.”
Katie and I had one full-time employee, our cook and maid, Rosita. Eric had one part-time employee, his mechanic. That person was part time and Rosita was full time because Eric did a lot more of his own repairs than Katie cooked or cleaned. We also had a landscaping company to keep our grounds nice, and he has maid service, but the real priorities were clear-cars for him, food for us.
“Fred was right. Now that you’ve got money, you need to act like you’ve got a brain.”
“I know.” He closed the game. “But we’ve got millions now.”
“Pretend like you don’t.”
