Epilogue 2
False Victory Over the Soviets
From Barry Wright’s manifesto:
The Apollo 11 “moon landing” was faked by actors on a secret NASA sound stage. Everyone knows the moon is a projection onto the celestial dome, but during the Cold War, the US was desperate for a win against the Soviets. So they pretended to travel to the moon. Only suckers believed them.
TESSA
One month later
“ L ook.” Standing in my—our—kitchen, I kissed Oliver to take back a little of the hurt. “We’ll be fine. Better than fine…”
He set a hand on my lower back and kept me from pulling away. “As long as I leave you alone.”
“It’s a girls’ thing.” My cheeks heated, partly because I’d claimed, at age forty-four, to be a girl, and partly because of the way I wanted to stay with him in the kitchen and keep rubbing up against his body to chase the tingles that had started with that touch on my back.
“I’m cool with that,” he rumbled. “I’ll serve you snacks and hang out in the bedroom, and when you need a break…” His hand slid up my side, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast over my sweater. “I’ll serve you something special.”
I moaned. “I want something special now.”
His chuckle was dark as the shadows overtaking the room at twilight. “Do you?”
“Cut it out, you two,” Savannah said, bursting into the kitchen. “The girls are demanding snacks, and we can’t wait for you two to finish canoodling.”
“Canoodling?” Oliver wrinkled his nose.
“It’s a Y2K thing,” Savannah said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I was around during Y2K,” he protested.
“Stop teasing him, Savannah,” I said. Taking a step back, I smoothed the front of his charcoal-gray sweater. “Go on. Tell Andrew hi for me.”
“Game night won’t be the same without you.”
“Maybe you’ll win for a change.” I kissed his cheek.
“I’ve already won,” he whispered in my ear.
“Seriously, you two,” Savannah said. “Before I throw a bucket of ice water on you.”
With one last, longing look, he turned away and grabbed his keys from the hook. “Okay if I’m back around midnight?”
“Sounds perfect,” I purred.
Savannah groaned.
I waited for Oliver to walk out, then I turned to my friend. “You seriously need to get laid.”
“What?” She went pink all the way to the open collar of her cranberry velvet tracksuit. “I won’t even be officially divorced until next week.”
“I’m not telling you to get married. I’m saying you could use an orgasm or ten.”
“Ten?” Her eyes bugged.
I waved away her shock. “It’s not difficult. Take the weekend. Pace yourself. And be sure to hydrate.”
My phone buzzed on the counter with a security system notification. I hit the button to let in Bridget, glad she’d actually made it this time. I hated how demanding her job had become. She’d taken on too much in her desperation to prove herself in the CEO position. Still, I tried to be supportive. We all did.
“Right. Snacks,” I said. “What do we need?”
Savannah shook off her fog. “There’s homemade hummus in the fridge, and some Buffalo chicken dip, which you should avoid because it’s got cheese in it. And grab the veggie platter. I’ll get the crackers.”
I set the platter on the island as Bridget let herself in through the kitchen door, scowling.
I still wasn’t a hugger, but I walked over and squeezed my friend’s shoulder. “Rough day?”
“The worst. Some days, I want to give up.”
“That’s life as a CEO,” I said, not unsympathetically. I remembered the long, difficult days, agonizing over decisions, but also the highs of knowing my company succeeded because of me. I wouldn’t exactly call it easy now, but having Oliver a few doors down the hall helped.
“As a co- CEO, you mean.”
“Hasn’t that been resolved yet?” I asked.
Savannah folded her into a hug. “What did he do this time, honey?”
Bridget bit her lip. “It’s more what I found out?—”
She stopped when the door opened. Oliver stood in it, his eyebrows drawn together.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, striding toward him.
“Nothing? But your dad’s here.” He winced. “Surprise?”
Cold prickles erupted in my belly. Why had he shown up tonight, when I had friends over? “Shit.”
My father pushed past Oliver. “Happy solstice.”
“The solstice isn’t until next week. And I didn’t think you were coming this year. Not after last year.”
He looked down at his socks. (Fortunately, he had enough manners to toe off his muddy boots at the door.) “About that. I might not agree with how you’ve decided to use your talents, but you’re my daughter, and I shouldn’t have protested at your place of employment.” He looked me in the eye. “I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t recall that he’d ever apologized to me before. Had one of his conspiracies come true? Had the chemtrails tamed him? Had aliens flipped on the obedience chip he claimed they’d installed? “Um. Okay. Still, you could’ve let me know you were coming.”
“I try not to alert the G-men of my whereabouts.” And now he was back to the father I recognized.
“Right, right. I’ve got guests, so?—”
Lucie walked into the kitchen, shielding her eyes. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m coming to get my own snacks. You guys better not be having a threesome in here.” Dropping her hand, she took in my dad’s worn jeans, his Army-surplus jacket, and his scruffy white beard. “Oh. Hello.”
“Hi, Mr. Wright.” Bridget stepped up to him and extended her hand. She was clearly still in work mode with her heels and black sheath dress. “Remember me? I’m Bridget.”
“Tessa’s friend, the corporate sellout,” he growled, not taking her hand.
“You do remember,” she said brightly. Her hand fell to her side.
“Stop, Dad,” I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Bridget is not only very successful but also serves on the board of several philanthropic organizations.”
“Your dad?” Lucie waved. “Hi. I’m Tessa’s friend Lucie Knox.”
“Holden Caulfield.”
“Dad.” I glared at him. “This is my father, Barry Wright.”
Lucie surveyed him like she was memorizing the buzz cut he gave himself. Maybe she hoped to interview him later. His mind was kind of fascinating.
“What’ve you got going on here, Tessa?” he asked gruffly.
“My girlfriends are here. We’re having a party.”
“Party?” He narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“No.” I huffed out a laugh. “It doesn’t. Still, I invited my friends over tonight.”
Lucie and Savannah stepped closer, bracketing me between them. Bridget crossed her arms and flashed Dad a challenging stare.
“Mhm. But he isn’t a girlfriend.” Dad jerked a thumb at Oliver. Bless him, Oliver hadn’t taken the opportunity to slink out the way I might have. He stood staunchly in the corner, arms folded, watching my dad’s every gesture.
“No, Dad.” I took a deep breath. “Oliver lives here. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” he scoffed. He trailed his gaze over Oliver, from his too-long hair, which I loved to bury my fingers in, to his soft cashmere sweater and polished loafers. “You’re that fella from the fake cancer laboratory.”
Oliver pushed away from the wall. “It’s not fake. We do very real science there. Tessa’s the CEO and has made some significant contributions herself.”
“She bought into their lies when she went off to college.” Dad spat the last word like he always did, even though he and my mom had gone. “Still, it’s a good idea to have a man around here. Do you know how to shoot?”
Oliver chuckled. “Does skeet count? I went out a few times with my dad and grandpa. I got pretty good at archery at summer camp.”
My dad pierced him with a stony gaze. “Your summer-camp bow and arrows aren’t going to protect anyone when the lizard people come for us. Neither is Tessa’s flimsy security system.”
“Yikes,” Lucie said. “Mr. Wright, you’ve got to tell me more about these lizard people. Do they walk on two legs or four? And what do they eat?” She stepped closer and tentatively took his arm. “I’m a writer and a former journalist.”
“A journalist, huh?” He nodded. “Girlie, I could tell you stories that’d straighten your hair.”
“Dad,” I said, “it’s girls’ night. Why don’t you eat something and rest? We can talk in the morning.”
“We could take some snacks outside,” Oliver said, “and have a couple of beers by the fire pit.”
When I went with Oliver to a conference in Boston and his parents met us for dinner, his dad had pestered him about keeping Discovery independent. Instead of sitting quietly and eating my lobster, I argued that he’d taken a good risk that I thought would pay off. We’d sat shoulder to shoulder, a united front. Now, Oliver was offering to take one for the team? Because, I realized, that’s what we were. A team.
I leaned in and kissed him. “Thanks,” I murmured against his lips.
“Of course. I’ll tell you about it later when we’re in bed.”
I nuzzled his ear. “I can think of a lot better things to do in bed than talk about my dad.”
He held me to him. “Is that a promise?”
“You know it is. Now I’m going to entertain these people for a couple hours, then kick them out.”
“And I’ll argue with your dad until I wear him out.”
I pecked his lips. “Good luck with that.” Pulling away, I said, “Why don’t you tell my dad about the company’s new product?” We’d made a press release, so it was all public knowledge.
“You’ve developed a cure?” My dad narrowed his eyes at Oliver.
“Not a cure. A test.”
As I turned back toward my friends and picked up the platter of cheese I wouldn’t eat, my dad growled, “What good is a test, when the government is sitting on a cure?”
I smiled. They could argue medical conspiracies all night while I entertained my friends. “Bridget,” I said, passing her the tray of cheese, “tell us what your nemesis did this week.”
“Oh my god.” She popped a cube of Jarlsberg into her mouth, then took the platter from me. “You won’t believe it.”
I turned my head to wink at Oliver, then I hustled my friends out of the room.
Hours later, when we were in bed, I told Oliver about the dickish thing Bridget’s co-CEO had done and he told me about my dad’s latest theory, then I cuddled against his chest. “Tonight was perfect.”
He chuckled into my hair, his warm breath a massage against my scalp. “Because we spent it apart?”
I twisted a lock of his hair around my finger. “Because even though we weren’t in the same room, we were a team. Thank you for entertaining my dad.”
“Of course.” He pressed his head into my hand. “I’m glad you had fun with your friends.”
“You know, if we tear down the fake apartment building at the front of the property, we could build a better entrance, something more welcoming.” My heart raced at the thought of strangers being able to enter the property, but I breathed through it. My friends would feel welcome, and I liked that.
He kissed my forehead. “If you want. There might be room for a pool and an outdoor kitchen. An entertaining oasis.”
I shuddered with anticipation, not horror. I pushed him to his back. “What do I need an outdoor kitchen for? I don’t cook.”
“I cook. You’d love my grilled scallops.”
“Mmm.” I kissed his lips, then the tip of his chin, then the hollow between his collarbones. “Tell you what else I’d love…”
“Hey.” He stopped me before I slid lower. “You know I love you just as you are. We don’t have to entertain. You don’t have to change anything about this place.”
A thrill sped through my body. “I know.” And I did. “But I’m ready to open things up again.” The way I’d already opened my heart.
He knew what I meant. “I love you.” He traced my cheekbone with his finger. “I love how brave you are.”
“You’re brave too.” I leaned into his touch. “I love you. I love that you took a risk on me.
“Best risk I ever took.”
I grinned. “Same.”
T hank you so much for reading Conspiracies and Chemistry.