Chapter 18
CHAPTER
YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO do something,” said Judith when Nash arrived home. “She’s been in her room all day.”
“She’s always in her room,” countered Nash. He still had to pack. His flight was early in the morning and it was already past nine. He’d had to work late and had grabbed a burger and fries for dinner, then ate it on the way home.
“Not like this she’s not. She was going to play tennis with friends and then lunch at the club, but she cancelled.”
Nash wanted to tell his wife that at nineteen years of age neither of them had had the opportunity to cancel tennis and lunch at the country club, because they had never belonged to a country club at that tender age. And if that was having a bad day then bring it on, he also thought.
Instead, he said, “I’ll see if she’ll talk to me.”
He trudged upstairs and knocked on her door. “It’s Dad.”
“Go away! I’m mad at you.”
Okay, that was a grown-up response. Why not drop hundreds of thousands of dollars on a wacky business idea with an immature person at the helm?
He was about to “go away” when the meeting with Dickey reentered his mind. “I met with my father’s lawyer.”
“So?” she called out.
He gritted his teeth and said, “He left you something.”
“What? His ‘Fuck Off’ jacket?” she shot back through the door. Nash had told her and Judith about his father’s profanely named motorcycle club. “You can keep it,” she added.
“No, he left you some money, actually.”
He heard her feet hit the floor and the door opened two seconds later.
Her hair was disheveled, and she wore baggy shorts and a T-shirt with a silkscreen of Lenny Kravitz. “How much money?” she said.
“You want to come down and we can discuss it?”
She followed him to his study like a puppy looking for treats, and curled up in a seat opposite him.
“So what money?” she said. “FYI, I drove past his house one time when I was in high school, and it didn’t seem like he had much money.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I was thinking of Grandma, and, I don’t know. I just wanted to see where she lived. And I missed her even though we didn’t see her all that much when she was alive.”
Nash looked at his daughter and suddenly realized that he was not the only one affected by his father’s bizarre behavior. “He didn’t really have many assets. But he left you some of his Agent Orange settlement money.”
She looked confused. “His what?”
“Agent Orange. It was a toxic chemical the U.S. military used in Vietnam against the enemy. Only they often doused their own troops with it. It causes a host of bad things, including many forms of cancer. Your grandfather fought the government and won a settlement.”
“Wow, cool.”
“It wasn’t cool for him. Agent Orange destroyed his body and then killed him.”
Nash knew that his daughter, while entitled and self-absorbed, was also kind and empathetic. Her happy look vanished. “Oh, I didn’t know. That’s… terrible, Dad.”
“Many former soldiers and their families got nothing because the military wouldn’t do the right thing. You’re lucky that your grandfather never gave up.”
Except maybe with me.
“I’m really sorry, Dad,” she said sincerely. “Stuff like that shouldn’t be allowed. I mean, they all fought for their country and we should take care of them.”
“Very true. So, anyway, he left you the money in trust. You can access the first tranche at age twenty-five and the second half at age twenty-eight.”
Her face fell. “But that’s years away. I’ll be nearly thirty by the time I get it all.”
“But as trustee I can distribute funds out before that time, if I deem it to be sensible.”
She looked at him warily. “But you made it clear that you don’t think my influencer idea is sensible. I believe you thought it was crap.”
“That was your first proposal. You can always do another one where there is less emphasis on flying around the world attending concerts and eating at five-star restaurants.”
She sat back, deflated, but also anxious. “So what do you think I should do?”
“Basic Business 101: Find a need and fill it. Your generation seems to want more of a life balance than people my age or older, and not pointlessly lusting after the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Build a business that speaks to that and you may have something. And then keep in mind that consumers are fickle as hell. But if you frame it right and continue to evolve your offerings you can be a game changer in that space.”
“I never thought of that,” she said, sounding deeply chagrined.
“Business is not easy at any age, Maggie. But if you keep a few principles in mind, your chances of success can be enhanced. Some of them are: keep it simple, know your audience, and never grow complacent.”
“So back to the drawing board.” She hesitated and glanced at him.
He knew what she was going to ask. “It’s six figures,” he said. “The money he left you.”
Stunned, she said, “But he didn’t even know me.”
“You’re his flesh and blood. I guess that was enough.”
“But why did he treat you so poorly then? You were his son!”
“He was complicated. And now I have to get ready for my trip tomorrow.”
She rose. “Thanks, Dad. For the business lesson. Even if it did piss me off initially.”
“Just initially?” he said.
“Okay, I’m still kind of mad at you, but… you did give me some great business advice.”
“It’s one of the very few things I’m reasonably good at.”
At the door she turned back. “And… I’m sorry for how I acted before. I guess since I didn’t go to college I was feeling sort of inadequate and that life was… passing me by.”
“Social media sells the lie that if you’re not rich with a billion followers by the time you’re fourteen, then you’re a failure.
But life is long, and it’s no fun going through it either in a neutral gear or facing absurd expectations.
I just want you to find your passion. Once you do, I know you will excel. ”
“But how do you know my generation wants different things?”
“Well, different generations often do.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, looking a little disappointed.
“But I’ve also been looking into the things that are important to people your age.”
“What, for some business deal?”
“No.”
“Then what was your incentive to spend time on that?”
“You’re my daughter, Maggie. That was my incentive. I thought the more I know about what’s important to you, the better advisor I can be to you. And a better… father.”
She looked surprised.
“I know I wasn’t always around when you were growing up. That my job took me away a lot. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about you. That… that I didn’t care. Because I do. And I have since the day you were born.”
She stared at him for an intense moment, perhaps seeing something in him that she hadn’t before. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll… I’ll get back to you.”
Nash felt awful doing this to her, knowing full well that whatever decision he made with respect to the FBI’s proposal would probably mean his daughter’s dreams of building a business online would never happen.
I doubt she will think me father-of-the-year material after that bomb drops.
Nash sent a few emails and then loaded his briefcase with documents he would need for his meetings on Capitol Hill. He then went upstairs to pack. Judith poked her head into his closet. She already had her PJs on, and a purple sleep mask rested on her forehead.
“I see you smoothed things over with the princess,” she said.
“She’s doing some more homework.” He folded up a tie and put it into his roller bag. “By the way, my father left her three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in trust.”
Judith gaped. “What! Where did he get that sort of money?”
“Agent Orange settlement with the Army. The trust funds are paid out half at age twenty-five and the remainder at twenty-eight. But the trustee can give her money before that if it’s deemed suitable.”
“Who’s the trustee?”
“Me.”
Judith’s expression turned somber. “He left his Agent Orange settlement to Maggie?”
“Part of it. Some went to his best friend, Isaiah York, and the rest to Rosie Parker. My father wanted Parker to have a life interest in the house, and the money will help her keep it up. I’m working with the lawyer to get things in order.”
“Well, no one’s better at that than you.”
“I just told Maggie it was six figures. Don’t tell her the exact amount, okay?”
“Mum’s the word. Are you going to let her have some of it?”
“If she comes up with a decent mousetrap, probably.”
Judith hugged him. “You really are a good father, whether you think you are or not.”
She left him to his packing. After that he texted Agent Morris with his hotel information and a time to meet.
Judith was asleep by the time he climbed into bed. The private flight was wheels up at six fifty a.m. on the trip to the nation’s capital.
And sometime after that Nash would be meeting with the FBI to see how spectacularly he could blow up his life. And the lives of the two people he cared most about.