29. Orion
— ? —
Orion
Maddie arrived at the manor three weeks after we moved back in.
Cream suit, driver waiting in the car. The same formidable presence she’d had when she’d walked into Gianna’s tiny apartment and taken my company away from me.
She looked around the foyer like she was inspecting it for dust. Knowing my mother, she probably was.
But this time, she didn’t look at me.
She walked straight to the kitchen island where Gianna was sitting with a cup of coffee and set down a folder.
“The board meets Thursday,” she said. “I’m going to chair. They want a chief executive, and I told them in that apartment whose decision it was.” She met Gianna’s eyes. “It still is.”
She kissed Alex, who was in his high chair cheerfully smashing banana into his hair, and left without another word.
“Your mother,” Gianna said after the front door closed, “is terrifying.”
“Always been.”
“I like her. I aspire to be her.”
“I know that too. But at least be kinder than her.”
Gianna took the folder to the porch.
I stayed in the kitchen and wiped down a counter that didn’t need it. Did not go out there.
Alex offered me a fistful of mashed banana. I accepted it gravely, because that’s what good fathers do.
“Thanks, buddy,” I said. “This is exactly what I needed.”
He shrieked with delight and went back to destroying his breakfast.
When she came back in, her face was thoughtful, closed. I couldn’t read it.
“Three conditions,” she said.
I set down the rag I was holding. Set down the banana too because this felt important.
“One. No trip over two nights without me signing off on it.” Her voice was steady. Business-like. “I don’t mean asking permission. I mean discussing it with me like a partner. If I have concerns, we talk through them. If I say it’s too much, you find another way.”
“Agreed.”
“Two. Phones off at dinner. Yours and mine. In a drawer. And I’ll be checking the drawer.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m serious about the drawer-checking.”
“I believe you.”
“I have trust issues now. You gave them to me.”
“I know.” I held her gaze. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving they’re unnecessary.”
“Three.” She stepped closer. “Every quarter, you bring me the numbers. Walk me through them like I’m on the board. Because I am. Maddie already put me there.”
My breath caught. “She did?”
“Called me last week. Said it was time I had a seat at the table instead of waiting for someone to tell me what was happening. Also, she said we need more girl power on the board. Kept calling the old ones bastards for reasons she hasn’t disclosed yet.” Gianna’s chin lifted. “I said yes.”
I should have thought to do that. Should have been the one to offer it. But of course it was my mother who’d seen what was needed. Who’d understood that Gianna deserved actual power, not just the illusion of it.
“I’m an idiot,” I said.
“Sometimes.”
“I should have thought of that.”
“You should have. But your mother did, and that’s what matters.” She almost smiled. “Besides, you’ve been busy learning to change diapers and make terrible grits. Can’t expect you to think of everything.”
“Those grits were getting better.”
“They were getting less lumpy.”
“Say the conditions back to me,” Gianna said.
I did, slowly. Like a vow.
“No trip over two nights without your sign-off. Phones off at dinner, in a drawer. Every quarter, I bring you the numbers and walk you through them like you’re on the board.” I met her eyes. “Because you are.”
She nodded. Reached into the folder she’d brought back from the porch and pulled out an envelope I hadn’t noticed.
“One more thing.”
She handed it to me. I opened it, read the first line. Then the second.
Florence. The restoration program she’d told me about a lifetime ago, in a corner at a cattle auction gala, nursing a glass of chardonnay in a borrowed dress and looking at me like I was actually worth knowing.
Deferred admission. Spring semester.
“I applied the week you flew to Georgia,” she said quietly. “I needed one thing that was mine whether or not you stayed.”
I couldn’t speak. The girl at the bar. The one who’d told me about her dreams like they were secrets. The one I’d been too distracted to help chase them.
She’d chased them herself. While I was scrambling to prove I could change, she’d been building a future that didn’t depend on me.
That was the woman I’d married. That was the woman I’d almost lost.
“You’ll be running a company and raising our son in Texas while I’m in Italy in six-week blocks. And you’ll bring him to me every summer, because I’m not doing this without him.” Her voice was steady, but I could see the tremor in her hands. “That’s the deal. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” The word came out hoarse. Desperate. “Yes. Whatever you need. Whatever makes this work.”
“Then take the job.”
I pulled her into my arms. Held her so tight I was probably bruising both of us. Felt her arms come around my waist and hold me back just as fiercely.
“Thank you,” I said into her hair.
“Don’t thank me yet.” She pulled back to look at me. “You have to actually do it. Show up. Be present. Remember that the company isn’t your family. We are.”
“I won’t forget.”
“You forgot before.”
“Then hold me to it.” I cupped her face in my hands.
She searched my eyes for a long moment. Whatever she found must have satisfied her, because she nodded.
“Okay then.” A smile ghosted across her lips. “Go call your mother. Tell her she’s got a new CEO.”
“She’s going to say ‘I told you so.’”
“Probably.”
“She’s been waiting months for this moment. She’s going to be insufferable.”
“Also probably.” Gianna kissed me softly. “But you can handle it. You handled the middle seat. You can handle anything.”