Page 14 of This Is How It Started
I take a deep breath because I’ve been wondering this myself. “I think she pretty much got everything she wanted in the divorce.”
“Not the same thing,” Adam says. “These aren’t fragments of their marriage. This is Dad, man.”
My mind immediately goes to the painting she got him for their last wedding anniversary together. It was a landscape of the giant redwoods in Humboldt County. When my father was doing his residency at Stanford, he was working around the clock. Even when he got time off, they were too broke to go anywhere. So they would drive up the coast to the redwoods and sleep in a tent under the stars. My father used to say it was better than the best Ritz Carlton because my mother was with him.
“I’ll take the painting for her,” I tell Adam, who nods.
“Is Hannah bringing Stephen?”
“I don’t think so. He probably has to work.”
“Stephen works a lot, doesn’t he?” Adam doesn’t have to spell it out because I know exactly what he’s implying.
“So does Hannah,” I say defensively.
“Hannah doesn’t have dinner meetings with clients at ten at night.”
“Hannah also doesn’t work for Google.”
Adam starts to say something, then stops. After a long pause, he says, “What about Josh? Is he coming?”
“He has a meeting but is coming over afterward.”
Adam shoots me a sideways glance as if to say,See what I mean? Josh is making the time because he knows this will be difficult, and you’re important to him.
“You think Brooke will hover over us?”
Adam laughs. “If she’s not out looking for her next sugar daddy or at the bank, counting Dad’s money. You see her pretending to be all broken up at the funeral?”
“Jeez, Adam, when did you get so judgy?” Of the three of us, my brother is the chill one, though you wouldn’t know it from today. His hostility is permeating the car like one of those pine tree air fresheners.
He turns in his seat slightly, and I’m just about to tell him to watch the road when he says, “Sony made me an offer.”
“What?” I do a double take. “To work for them?” I ask, confused.
“To sell them my company.” He says this like he’s angry, like how dare one of the wealthiest corporations in the world have the gall to approach him.
“Well, is it a good offer?” Because from his demeanor I’m thinking it’s an insult. Maybe they’ve offered him a pittance of what the company is worth just so he’ll go away. I’ve heard these kinds of things happen in Silicon Valley.
“Yeah, pretty good,” he says, though there’s no joy in it.
“Like how good?” I’m waiting for the hitch.
“Like never having to work again good, except they want to hire me as a consultant.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is, Dad is fucking dead, and I need him to tell me what to do.”
And that’s when we pull into the driveway at the Victorian on Vallejo and both start sobbing uncontrollably.
Chapter 6
The Newsboy Cap
Brooke has laid out snacks, though none of us is in the mood to eat while we pack up my father’s clothes, medical books, and keepsakes.
Hannah, who missed her calling as a drill sergeant, organizes our efforts by room. She has us starting in my father’s study and working our way to the now main bedroom. Hannah has also brought boxes and packing tape, something Adam and I never would’ve thought of on our own. That’s why she’s an A-list lawyer. Ironic that Adam, whose idea of ambition is waking up before noon, is the sibling destined for triumph.
