Page 40 of What You Own
He glanced around, but no one was close by. No one was listening, paying attention to our dirty laundry. “Your mother was an incredibly stubborn woman, Adam. Perhaps I was distant much of the time, but when I noticed her drinking had reached a dangerous level, I spoke to her about it.”
“Spoke to her?”
“Yes. We had a fairly big fight, as a matter of fact. She blamed me for ruining her stage career. I told her I wouldn’t have her falling down drunk around our son, so I sent her out of the country to a very nice rehab facility. Do you remember how she missed your seventh grade science fair because I told you she was in Bali?”
I nodded, unable to speak around the lump in my throat. I’d been upset at her for scheduling a vacation when she knew I had a geology project up for a really good prize. And I’d won second place with neither of my parents there to cheer me on. Then the rest of what he’d said sank in.
I wouldn’t have her falling down drunk around our son.
Had he really sent her away to protect me?
“Jenny was sober when she came home,” Dad continued. He sounded sad, exhausted. “For about a month. She refused to go to rehab again, but she was more careful with her drinking. Obviously, if you never suspected a problem.”
“Couldn’t you have committed her to treatment or something? Called someone to help her? Put her in the hospital? All the money you have, and you just let her die like that?”
His face went stony. “She refused to leave the country again. At that point I couldn’t do anything to help her.”
I stared, not believing him. He could have done so many things to help her get sober, to turn her life around. And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me with perfect clarity. I knew. He’d done the same thing to Ryan. The pattern was so horrifyingly clear now. “You didn’t make a fuss because you didn’t want a scandal. You didn’t want her problem in the papers, or being gossiped about. Right?”
Dad didn’t reply, which was as good as a yes.
“Your business and reputation always come first, don’t they?” I stood up, itching to get away from him before I said something I’d regret. Or actually put my hands on the man. For the first time in my life, I had a distinct urge to hit my father for all of the cruel things he’d done in the name of business. “Doesn’t matter who you hurt in the process, as long as LQF is safe from the fallout.”
“That’s not fair,” Dad said. “I have put my entire life into that company, and I will do everything necessary in order to keep it successful. How will you run it one day if I allow it to fall into ruin?”
Something weird and warm unfurled in my chest. This was the first time Dad had ever said anything about me taking his place at LQF, or insinuated that I would one day run it. Sure, I figured he’d leave me shares of the company in his will, but a co-CEO position?
A position I’d never be given if I chose Ryan.
“I’m doing this for you, son, and for the hundreds of people that I employ. I never wanted to hurt your mother. I loved her very much, and perhaps I made the wrong decision.” He sighed heavily. “I think I assumed I’d have more time to help her quit drinking. Her accident stole her from us far too soon.”
A very preventable accident, I now knew. “How come I didn’t see it?”
“She was very good at keeping it from you. She didn’t want you to see it, and neither did I.”
“Maybe if I’d known, she’d have gotten sober for me.” The realization made my chest ache with what could have been.
“Alcoholics must choose to get sober for themselves, son.”
Ouch.
“Was there anything else you needed to discuss?” he asked.
Double ouch and dismissed. “No.”
He stood stiffly and walked away, while I sat stunned and sad and wishing so badly that Ryan was there to hug me.
Ryan
MAYFIELDPARKwas crowded with families, most of them settled in with lawn chairs and coolers, waiting for the sun to set and the fireworks to start. You could see the fireworks from a good six-block radius from the field next to the high school where they set them off, so the park wasn’t the only place to hang out. It was the favored spot, though.
I didn’t really expect Adam to show up but asking had been natural as breathing, and I caught myself scanning the crowd for him every once in a while.
My cell rang right when the first firework launched. I grinned at the display. “Hey.”
“Hey back,” Adam said. He sounded funny, kind of tight. Upset. Probably talked to his daddy about his momma. “Couldn’t get away, but I’m where he can’t hear me talking. I wanted to watch the fireworks with you somehow.”
“This is good.”
