“You cannot be serious.” My mother’s eyes lit up with alarm.
“I’m very serious. I’ve mapped it out. My partner was in my squadron.”
“Are you doing this for free?” Ethan asked.
“I’ll give my time for free, yes. I’ve been in discussion with certain government agencies. They’re keen to get on board with healthy grants. It’s going to save them in the long run. Less career criminals. Get them while they’re young. Give unfocused youth something to do. If I can help even ten percent make a better life, this project will be a success.”
Ethan turned and tossed me a nod and “good on you” smile. Whether that was irony or not, I couldn’t tell with my brother. He seemed to have a foot in both camps. Underneath it all decent, despite his tendency to vacillate.
“Let’s put it to the vote,” my mother said.
“It’s my land. The project doesn’t need to be voted on. It’s going to happen.” I stared her squarely in the face.
“Mm… we’ll see.” She turned her attention to the group. “For now, I want a show of hands for the resort.”
Everyone, bar me and my father, raised their hands. Ethan only halfway.
I leaned in. “Do what’s right? Remember when we were kids, we’d play in those farms? Remember the animals, the fresh butter and yoghurt?”
He looked over at our father and lowered his hand.
It was a weak withdrawal given that my father had the power of veto. And he wasn’t, much to my delight, buying it.
“Harry,” my mother implored.
“Nope. I hate it. It’s not happening. I’m with Declan. And I like his ideas. An organic farm is a great place to start. As for rehabilitating troubled youth, he could do worse things with his money.”
I looked over at my father and nodded with a smile.
Just as my mother was about to protest, Savanah came rushing in. Removing her coat and panting, she asked, “What have I missed?”
“Only that our plan is being stymied by your father,” my mother replied.
“Oh, really? But Daddy, it’s a sound project. I had my heart set on it.”
“What happened to the design degree?” he asked.
She looked at the other board members, who reminded me of cut-outs. Family friends and lawyers, whom I called the Noddies due to them agreeing on everything.
“I’m still there. But this is a really cool project,” she said.
“I’m not signing off on it. That’s my final word.”
Savanah turned to my mother and rolled her eyes. They were thick. My mother had always favoured her only daughter. I just shrugged it off. It took some pressure off me and Ethan. Until now. My mother hated to lose.
I waited until everyone filed off, muttering away to each other, and my mother, shaking her head, cast one of her cold stares at my father, who responded with an air kiss, just to piss her off.
My father was the joker. I enjoyed his company and felt blessed that he was there for us when we were growing up. Teaching us how to ride horses and to toss a cricket ball or grip a tennis racquet. It touched me that he attended the ceremony for my Medal of Valour. He was the only family member there, and his presence meant the world to me.
“Dad, can I have a word?” I asked.
“Of course, Declan.”
Savanah stormed over. “What’s got into you, Daddy?”
My father gave me a ‘let’s humour her’ grin before turning to her. “What’s upsetting you? Your monthly allowance, which would feed an African village for a year, has run out again?”
“No. But why hold out on this project? I had ideas. I was looking forward to working on the interior design.”