“Because she overestimates her ability to manage her time!” I can hear the eye-roll in his defensive tone.
“Nora was supposed to mentor Heath on the team,” I point out.
“There are others. Actually, he’ll be more comfortable with men.”
I almost snort. “The same men who call him ‘boy’ or ‘kid’?”
“So? He’s barely thirty. Who cares?”
“I do. And he does. It’s disrespectful.”
He scoffs. “Loosen up, Edgar. You’ve changed ever since you started spending so much time out in California with your brothers. Is this Court’s doing? I told him he should’ve studied economics or engineering.”
“Leave him out of it.”
Despite the fact that he has a great deal of aptitude for financial management, Court majored in gender studies to spite Dad. He assumed that having a degree in what Dad considers a worthless liberal art would keep him away from the drama of the family
and Blackwood Energy. And who could blame him?
“And I’m not spending much time with Tony or Court. I’m busy with other things,” I say, not wanting Dad to blame my brothers. They’ve put up with enough family bullshit. Dad would be careful about approaching Tony, but he isn’t so circumspect with Court.
“Like what?”
“I bought a penthouse in the city.”
“An investment?” Dad throws it out immediately, apparently refusing to entertain any other possibilities.
“No. I met the woman I’m going to marry.” I might as well tell him now. He’s going to find out sooner or later.
Stunned silence. Then he lets out a strangled sound as though he’s been unable to breathe for a while. “Then why are you buying property in California? You should be bringing her home. To Tempérane! This is where you both belong. She’ll need to take her place in the family and the town.”
I thought I’d take Jo to Tempérane at some point, before our wedding ceremony, provided her doctor clears her for travel. But not now. Dad couldn’t have turned me off from the idea any more effectively or permanently. Mom assumed her place in the family and town, for sure, and how did that turn out?
I’ll be damned if I let Jo become a cold, heartless shell of a woman like my mother. She’s too vibrant and beautiful to be wasted that way.
“She has a career here in Los Angeles.” I keep my voice mild but firm. “She isn’t going anywhere.”
“Is her career more important than her station in life?”
“If it can help her avoid becoming another Margot Blackwood?” My lips twist. “Yes.”
“You’ll show some respect. She’s your mother!” he thunders.
It isn’t like him to react so strongly. We both try very hard to be civilized. We have certain images to maintain.
“Is she there with you?” I ask. My phone screen said “Dad,” but that doesn’t mean he’s in the office…or alone.
“What if she is?”
“How could you let her back into your life? You owe it to Tony and Ivy to keep her as far away from the family as possible,” I say, my voice tight with anger and shame. Anger that he forgot, and shame that I didn’t do more for my brother and Ivy. “What Mom did almost cost them their lives. People died.”
“Those people deserved to die!”
“Is that what Mom whispered in your ear to get you to take her back? How about the girl in the car? Did she deserve to die too?”
“That had nothing to do with your mother!”
Of course not. She never did anything wrong. Not after Dad has decided his loneliness matters more than anything she did, all the people she hurt.