7. ETHAN
7
ETHAN
I suppose it was inevitable. The sit-down with the parents.
They’re still not happy about me skipping out on them last night.
My mom and dad, or Mother and Father, as I’ve always referred to them, are rather formal about everything. I’m expected to be properly dressed for dinner.
No coat and tie or anything silly like that, but at least a nice polo and pants, no swimsuit and tank top, or any of the other things I usually wear around the house.
“So nice of you to join us,” my father says sarcastically. Yeah, it’s going to be that sort of a night.
“Sorry about last night, but you well know I haven’t seen Liam since I got back. I told you I saved his sister, so yeah, felt like I had to be there.”
My father shoots me a withering look. Other people’s lives are immaterial to him. You look up narcissist in the dictionary, and there’s a picture of dear old dad.
My mother might not have been like him in another life, but after 30 years of being married to him, however, she took on the dutiful role of stern, heartless matriarch. Now, they deserve each other.
“Ethan, your mother and I have been discussing your role in the family.”
Here it comes.
“Now we were accommodating when you decided to enlist in the Navy ...”
Accommodating? If you call almost having a coronary accommodating, I guess, I think to myself.
“And we think it’s time for you to get serious about your life. Now, we’ve discussed university before, and I believe I can get you into Yale or Harvard.
In point of fact, your military service might even make you more attractive to them,” he continues. “Not that it matters, considering what we have on the presidents of both of them.”
“Your undergraduate degree can be anything you like; although, naturally something like pre-law or political science would prepare you better for law school, but up to you,” he drones on.
“I suppose it wouldn’t be out of the question for you to get your graduates’ degree in another field like public policy, but the men in our family have always studied law.”
I don’t have a problem with what they’re saying so far. Actually, the thought of having time away again is quite appealing.
“There is one other matter we need to discuss with you,”
Ah, the other shoe. Of course.
“We are currently embarking on an operation that we would like your assistance on. I would normally phrase this as a request, but your mother and I agree that it’s about time you start pulling your weight in this family.”
And there it is.
“Look, I appreciate the effort that you and mother have made to provide me with a good life. But I think it’s more important that I blaze my own path.”
“You know I had something lined up with a security firm, but as I found out from Graham, you put the kibosh on that.”
“Ah, yes, about that,” father announces, unruffled. “While I admire your spirit, your family needs you now. That always takes priority.”
Over the next half-hour or so, my father lays out the situation that he had been discussing with the family lawyer.
It seems that one of his clients, Harrison Whitmore III, a wealthy but somewhat reclusive industrialist, has a fondness for younger women, in fact, very much younger. His latest conquest has just turned eighteen.
As it turns out, the young woman, identified only as Lena, became pregnant and was now threatening to cause a huge scandal.
She was willing to give up the baby, but she was not going to let the father have custody (and he wasn’t about to fight for custody lest his predilection be discovered).
She insisted that her baby be adopted by a young, loving couple who had the resources to properly take care of the child. She also insisted on meeting the couple before agreeing to the adoption.
After the adoption, the couple agrees to allow the birth father to adopt the child from them.
“That’s where you come in, Ethan,” my father explains.
“That’s great and all,” I say, “but as you may have noticed, I’m not a young couple. I don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“Surely, you have a bevy of young ladies who would be delighted to do this little acting job with you, particularly if they know there’s a little something in it for them,” he reasons.
I shake my head. As low as I know my parents are willing to go, this would have to be a record, even for them.
Not only is what they are proposing illegal – and unethical for their lawyer – a young girl’s life is at stake here.
“I know you must feel sorry for the girl,” my father explains, “but think of it this way. This young girl is in a bind, she has no future if she decides to keep this child.”
“If she gives it up to a couple that is willing to pay the adoption fee she is demanding, it will set her up for life, and she can move on free of guilt. She never has to learn of the second adoption.”
“The birth father gets to keep his child because it is, after all, his child too. He can certainly provide everything that a child will need, the best shelter, schools, medical care, the works.”
“Plus, for assisting the father, we receive a handsome reward, of which you will be entitled to a large cut.”
My father makes a compelling case. Yes, it’s a very ethically murky situation and seems wrong on so many levels. At the same time, it’s hard to argue that the child would be in a better situation in any other scenario.
I had encountered situations in combat where the choice is between the lesser of two evils.
Do I shoot the woman who may be concealing a suicide vest beneath her burka, knowing that it will orphan her two children?
What if she is just going to market? It’s a difficult situation, and you have to weigh the potential harm on both sides.
This is a situation where I cannot accurately determine the morally correct choice without additional information.
I reason that the best course of action, for now, is to agree to go along with the plan until I’m able to gather more information and more accurately assess the pros and cons of the situation.
There would always be a chance to abandon the job if it didn’t seem right.
The next matter at hand was getting a female partner to pose as my wife.
The obvious choice is Sophia. I would like to spend more time with her.
Last night was incredible.
It wasn’t just the sex. I had never let my guard down like that with anyone. It scares me a little.
For years, I’ve built a fortress around myself. I never get too involved with anyone and never let my feelings be known.
People call me cold and uncaring, and from their perspective, I suppose I am.
It’s been a necessary part of being Ethan Blackwood.
Every endeavor I’ve been involved with, any challenge I’ve set for myself, from child prodigy to football star to Navy SEAL, requires focus.
Romantic relationships, even true friendships, can interfere with that focus.
That was the thing about Liam. Somehow, he made me better, he helped me focus by keeping me grounded. He didn’t let me get in my head.
Of course, I’ve slept around, but none of them really meant anything. They were merely conquests. Additional achievements to add to my wall.
Except for Sophia.
I’m sure part of it is the emotional connection with her being Liam’s sister – and I have the sinking feeling this is going to get really awkward really soon – but there is something more, something deeper.
As much as I want her to help me on this job, given her aversion to anything having to do with the Blackwood family, that would prove difficult, if not impossible.
This whole operation is shady as hell anyway, even if it is ultimately in the best interest of the child. Asking her to participate would only reinforce her opinion that the Blackwoods are bad news.
My agreement to go along with my parents on this will no doubt negatively affect her opinion of me as well.
There has to be some way of showing her that this is actually a good thing and that the child will be happier and healthier with his or her biological dad.
I plan to do more research on Harrison Whitmore III to ensure that he will be a good father and not some kind of monster.
The more information I can present to Sophia to show that participating in this plan is a chance for the Blackwoods to do good for a change, and at the same time give her a little walking around money.
Unfortunately, knowing what I do about her, she likely is a firm believer in the Shakespeare admonition from Much Ado About Nothing, “They that touch pitch will be defiled.”
I will find a way to make her understand.