March 2025 #2
“I am,” I assured him.
He cleared his throat. “Is Dad?”
“Is your dad what?”
“Crazy about him?”
“Really?”
“I can’t—does he like him at all?”
“Yes, dear, your father likes Finn very much.”
“How can you tell?”
“He doesn’t bark at him to take his shoes off in the house, but instead waits for him to do it himself.
He listens when he talks, doesn’t mutter under his breath or roll his eyes, doesn’t forget his name or call him a different one, and most of all, he shared the last piece of key lime pie with him. ”
“He did?” Kola gasped.
“Yeah. Last Sunday.”
“I must’ve missed—oh, that’s so good.”
“Yep. Your father, as a rule, never gives away any part of his dessert.”
“He’s always done it with Harper and Jake.”
“Yes, well, that’s to be expected. He’s very possessive of the two of them.”
“True.”
“He hasn’t shared anything with Wick yet, but I think that has more to do with how Harper’s father feels about him more than anything else.”
Kola sighed deeply, clearly happy to hear that his father liked Finn. “Wait,” he said after a moment. “Harper’s father doesn’t like Wick?”
I grimaced.
“Pa,” he groaned like he was in pain.
“Listen,” I said with a shrug, “I think the real issue is that Wick has said that he wants to work at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City over and over, and since Harper doesn’t plan to move, they’re worried that Wick will leave and that Harper will be absolutely gutted. They don’t want to get attached.”
“Well, I think that’s more Wick being Wick.”
“What does that mean?”
“He did his undergraduate work at Columbia and fell in love with the city, and you know how it is when you set your heart on something.”
“I do, so that’s why I didn’t argue with Harper’s folks when they said that they don’t want to treat Wick like a member of their family if he’s not going to stick.”
“I’m sure Harper feels that.”
“The thing is, though, isn’t Wick’s family here as well?”
“Yeah. They live in Lake Forest.”
“Well then, I have to wonder why Wick wants to leave.”
“Not everyone loves Chicago,” he teased me.
“Oh, I know that. But it’s not about Chicago, it’s about family.”
“Some people want to do more than travel, though,” he reminded me.
“Certainly,” I agreed. “And lots of people want to fly away, and maybe Wick is more bird than tree.”
He chuckled then. “I can hear you gettin’ worked up, but just keep it in mind that both Hannah and I are trees.”
“I am aware."
“So are Harper and Jake.”
“I know.”
“Even Rob and Gen are.”
Dane’s kids were the same as mine. Now, nobody wanted to live under the same roof as their parents.
Dear God no. And it didn’t mean that they wouldn’t go places for a few years and then return.
But what it did mean was that being on an opposite coast, long term, forever, was out of the question.
In fact, only Kola had initially flown so far from home.
“Which I’m sure thrills your aunt,” I told him.
We lapsed into yet another easy silence, and then he reached over and took hold of my hand.
At the next light, I turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry I was stupid and went to California for a bit. That was a bad decision.”
“As I said when you decided to come home, I never begrudged you flying away, I simply missed you.”
“Well, I’m glad you did, and I suspect that saved me where Melton Prep is concerned, so I’m thankful.”
I squinted at him before I saw the light change. “What’re you talking about?”
“Pa, have you not been watching the news?”
Scoffing, I glanced at him. “Uhm no, love. I give myself a half an hour in the morning and that’s it. Any more and I would be a basket case. I’m so worried about everything and everyone, I could potentially combust if I’m not vigilant.”
“I get it,” he said and then chuckled. “Did you hear Aunt Rachel tell Dad at dinner last Sunday that she’s choosing joy and isn’t going to think about politics?”
“I definitely missed that, but perhaps that accounts for your father’s mood when we were on our way out.”
“When we were on our early way out, you mean?”
“Did we leave early?”
He chuckled. “Yes, sir, we did.”
I hadn’t noticed. “Well, anyway, tell me about Melton Prep. Start with what that is.”
“You don’t remember this at all?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s been big news this week because Melton Preparatory Academy is being sued because a lot of the boys there were…hurt. Things were done to them.”
“Like what? Were they abused? Left outside overnight in the cold or––”
“No, Pa,” he said solemnly. “They were assaulted. Continually. By members of the staff.”
I heard him. I processed the words and then had to quickly pull over because my face heated so quickly, I saw spots, and I thought I was going to throw up.
Getting out, I darted around my van to the sidewalk, where I bent over with my hands on my knees. My son was there fast, his hand on my back, rubbing circles there as I tried to breathe. It was difficult.
“Ask you a question?”
I nodded as I concentrated on moving air in and out of my lungs.
Betrayed by people who were supposed to care for you was simply the worst thing I could think of.
Kids hurt by people in places of authority, teachers, counselors, at church, at school, all of that simply broke me.
The most heinous of all, of course, to be harmed by, or put in any kind of jeopardy by, your own parents.
I simply couldn’t fathom such a thing. To look into the face of—
“Pa, turn your head and look at me,” he ordered.
As I did, I found my son crouched down beside me, smiling.
“Do you see me?”
I gave him a quick nod.
“Guess what? I didn’t go to Melton. Would you like to deduce why?”
Straightening up, I sniffled as he passed me a tissue from the box that he’d brought with him when he got out of the van.
“I didn’t go, not because you and Dad couldn’t afford it, because by the time I was ready to attend middle school, which is when it starts, you had the money. I never attended Melton because you said no.”
I blew my nose and looked at him.
“And I know that because I remember being pissed at you for a week.”
“You were?”
“Yeah. I was really upset because Jake and Harper were gonna go.”
“Why don’t I remember any of this?”
“Because to you, it wasn’t a big deal. You made the decision and that was it.”
“That does sound like me,” I said, trying to smile.
“Well, I don’t think Dad liked the sound of it either, the boarding school part, but the program looked amazing, and the people that came to school to talk it up were super impressive.”
I nodded.
“But you said no, and Dad agreed, as he normally does, so in my head, the fault was firmly yours.”
“Which is not at all fair, by the way.”
“I know that now, but still,” he said with a shrug. “But it turned out that because I couldn’t go, Jake’s folks—who weren’t sure they could swing it because he would have needed to qualify for a scholarship—decided they would skip it because of how miserable he was.”
“He didn’t want to go without you,” I said with a smile.
“Nope. And Harper’s mother didn’t want him to go for the same reason you didn’t want me to go, and had already made up her mind to tell him no when I told him I wasn’t.
We were both bummed, but since neither of us wanted to leave Jake, we got over it.
I remember after that first week I decided to forgive you. ”
“I see,” I said, blowing my nose when he passed me more tissues.
“Not that you noticed,” he grumbled at me. “You were blissfully unaware that I was ignoring you, just going on with your days like my life wasn’t over.”
“Would you like to know a secret?”
It was really something. My husband was not there, my son was, but the way he stepped back, crossed his arms and scowled at me was all Sam Kage.
“Every time you were mad at me, I would just kill you with kindness. I tried to lay it on so thick that it would make you crazy.”
The stunned surprise was worth the cost of admission.
I cackled just a bit.
“No.”
More laughing at that point.
“You lie.”
I felt so much better.
“That’s terrible,” he assured me, reeking with judgment, shaking his head before turning and stalking away.
Between crying, and then laughing, I had a small meltdown on the side of the road and laughed until I cried again.
At which point he had to get back out of the car, walk over, and hug me.
I looked terrible by the time we were back in the van.
I only drove a half a mile down the road before we had to switch places.
Hard to drive when you could barely see.
Once we reached Sandy and Michael's house in Winnetka, before we started up the drive, Kola stopped and just looked at the gate that slowly opened for us and then down the enormous tree-lined drive.
“Holy shit,” he said loudly.
“Did you not see this the first time we were—oh, that’s right. You’ve never been out here. Just me, Hannah, and your father.”
“This is a mansion.”
“You’ve been to Aaron’s penthouse,” I reminded him.
“I have, and yet this, with the baby lake over there and all the trees and the—is that a fountain?”
“It is a fountain, yes.”
“I say again—holy shit.”
I was enjoying him checking everything out.
When the phone rang in the van, Kola hit the button so we could talk to Hannah.
“I can hear you laughing. What’s so funny?” she asked her brother.
“I’m out here lookin’ at Pemberley.”
Inelegant snort then. “Not quite.”
“Did you not look at this place?”
“I prefer our backyard at home,” she stated, sounding a bit defensive.
“That’s very kind, B, but you know as well as I do that your uncle’s new home is jaw-dropping,” I apprised her as Kola moved us slowly down the long drive.
“It’s not for me,” she replied. “I’m much more for warm and cozy. Though the penthouse is my jam. I told Uncle Aaron that’s much more me.”
“Good, Finn and me’ll move into the house.”
“What?” She gasped. “No. It makes way more sense for me and Jake to move in with them so they can help with my kids.”