Page 7 of The Marriage Pact
Alex smiled.
“Ask me if it was when I get back. It has been years since I’ve been to Cedarhurst. Mom always comes to the resorts. There’s something about going home… I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not,” he said.
But whether it was, or wasn’t, was academic. Alexwasgoing home, and his flight was waiting. As the car purred through the New York traffic, he wondered if he’d been too hasty in signing off on the deal. It could cost them millions…
But what can I do about it now?
The answer was nothing, and he tried to avoid the temptation of looking at his phone. They arrived at the airport with just minutes to spare, with no time for a glass of champagne in the VIP lounge, and Alex was hastily escorted through security and onto the tarmac, where his jet was waiting to take him to Illinois. On board, he sat back with a sigh, reminding himself of all the things he was putting on hold in order to attend the wedding. He hadn’t even seen Sean and Rachel for years, and the invitation had come as something of a surprise.
“You’ve got to come home for it,” his mom had said. “The four of you were thick as thieves in high school. All those hours of study you put in for the mathletes tournaments.”
Her mention of “four” had brought with it other memories, too, memories of Kaitlyn, and those last few months they’d spent together before college. It was strange to think about it now, to remember what might’ve been. Sean and Rachel had always been destined for marriage. Alex was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. Rachel was pregnant, apparently. It seemed difficult to believe. The last time he’d seen them, they’d been so young; he’d been so young. As the plane took off, Alex sighed, watching as the New York skyline merged into one below. It would be strange to be back in Cedarhurst, surrounded by the familiar that was no longer familiar. He wondered what Kaitlyn would say when she saw him.
Don’t flatter yourself. She probably hasn’t given you a second thought.
But Alexhadthought about her. He felt guilty at having so readily neglected her. She’d tried to keep in touch with him at Harvard, but the pressures of work, and the distance…
The excuses, more like.
He’d enjoyed receiving her letters — the postcards she’d drawn, and the photos she’d send of the things she’d made. Kaitlyn was always so creative. He’d looked her up recently and found her studio in San Francisco, where she sold the most beautiful ceramics. He’d bought some. He got someone else to do it for him, though, because it had seemed embarrassing to tell the truth after all these years. Alex hadn’t wanted to lose touch with Kaitlyn. It had just happened. It was his fault, of course. The business always came first.
“All you think about is making money.” That’s what Mia had said the day she left him.
Alex had retorted that allsheever thought about was shopping. It hadn’t gone down well. They’d only been together for a month. She’d been happy enough spending his money…
Kaitlyn wouldn’t have been like that.
His musings on the past carried him all the way to Illinois, and he was only brought back to the present by the seat-belt sign coming on and the offer of a final glass of champagne by the steward.
“No, thank you. I’d better keep a clear head,” he replied.
A car was waiting on the tarmac. It would take an hour or so to reach Cedarhurst. Alex didn’t know why he was feeling nervous. He was the CEO of one of the largest companies in America, a billionaire who’d recently hosted the president at a gala dinner supporting America’s business interests abroad. He was known and respected across the business world, and yet he still suffered from crippling impostor syndrome. He’d grown up with nothing, and his mom had worked three jobs to put him through college. In the back of his mind, Alex was always fearful of it all being taken away.
It’s just a wedding. Just a week.
But it wasn’tjusta wedding. It was a reminder of a choice. Had he not been so fixated on succeeding, perhaps his own life might’ve been different. The once familiar sights of small-town America were now coming into view: Alf’s Diner, with its Formica-covered tables set out on the sidewalk, Randolph’s hardware store on the corner of Billingdon and Applegarth. They passed the high school, just as the kids were streaming out of class, with the yellow buses waiting to take them home. Alex had the driver pause at the drive-thru for a cola and hamburgerwith fries, and he was tempted to have him pull into the outdoor movie lot, where they were still showing films to rows of parked-up cars filled with teenage daters. It was all so familiar, and all such a contrast to the bright lights and glamor of New York.
“Stop here for a moment, will you?” Alex called out as they passed a small house set back from the road, with a neat garden stretching out from the porch, and a large Stars and Stripes hanging from a pole angled out above the door.
It was the house he’d grown up in, the house he’d moved his mom out of when he’d made his first million. It felt strange to see it now and to think of someone else living there. What was their life like?
“Are you getting out, sir?” the driver asked, but Alex shook his head.
“No… I’ll already get an earful for being late as it is,” he replied.
They drove on for about half a mile, passing out of the center of the town and into the leafy suburb, where large houses stood on tree-lined avenues, surrounded by lush gardens and white picket fences. Everyone seemed to have a sprinkler, and, as the showers or rain arced over the lawns, it was as though the whole street was filled with rainbows. The only exception was Alex’s mom’s house, where a gardener was hard at work in the beds. A pink convertible — a gift from Alex the previous year — stood shining on the drive. There was no sign of his mom, but the gardener pointed Alex to the side gate, telling him she’d given instructions not to be disturbed.
“I think she’s in the hot tub,” the gardener said.
Alex grinned. His mom had found a taste for the finer things in life. Though, given her choice of car color, “taste” might not be the right word.
“Mom? Are you back here?” Alex called out, letting himself through the side gate.
A sound of water splashing came from beyond, and his mom now appeared, wrapped in a terrycloth robe.
“Alex, you’re here! I was wondering when you’d arrive,” she said, coming to embrace him.
“I had a meeting this morning about the Japanese purchase. It went on longer than I expected,” he said.
