Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I’m still not sure why Audrina chose him over me.
I was the fun one, the adventurous one, the one who could actually carry on a conversation that didn’t revolve around the stock market, T-bonds, international trade treaties, or the petrodollar.
“Burke seems content around her, don’t you think?” Dad asks. “A little more at ease than usual.”
“Sure.” He’s probably at ease because he’s already counting the fat stacks of cash he’s going to collect in the near future. That’s enough to put even the most harried New Yorker in a Zen-like state.
“He doesn’t quite light up the way he did before with Audrina, but I like this one. She’s down to earth, and I think that could be good for him.”
I gaze out the wall of windows, watching the rolling ocean waves crash along the dock in the distance. Any minute now, the two of them will be back, and my brief refuge from this shit show will be over.
Drawing in a long breath, I count to seven before letting it go.
Seven more weeks—if I can last that long. And I will, but only for my father’s sake. He might be set in his archaic ways, but he’s the only dad I have, and this will likely be our final summer together.
“I want to talk to you about the inheritance clause,” he says, clearing his throat.
Here we go . . .
“You don’t have to—” I begin to say before he slices his hand through the air.
“I want you to understand my reason behind it. I’m not just some old man losing his marbles, trying to steer a sinking ship before it goes down forever,” he says. “I just want to know that when I’m gone, each one of you will have someone to weather life’s storms with.”
“I appreciate the intention, but you don’t have to worry about me.”
“I do, though.” He cocks his head, his eyes softening. “You’re my youngest. My most fiercely independent. Sometimes you’re too independent for your own good. You need someone to soften you. To make you smile. If I could give you that, my son, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t. All I can do is guide you in that direction—and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Again, I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s not the way it works.”
“I just want you to keep your eyes open. Keep your heart open. Keep your mind open—there’s someone out there for each of us,” he says. “And when you find them, you’ll know. Believe me. You’ll feel it in the deepest part of your soul.”
I had those soul-stirring feelings the night I met Briar.
Turns out, my soul is a terrible judge of character.
“Noted,” I say, but only so we can wrap up this painful TED talk.
“I want you to be happy,” he says. “It’s all a father could ever want for his child.”
“I can be happy without signing some papers and wearing a tuxedo in front of hundreds of people.”
“You’re missing the point.” He splays his fingertips across his desk. “There’s something extraordinary about making a commitment to someone and promising them—in every way imaginable—that you’ll be there for them, come what may. That you’ll be theirs and they’ll be yours forever. That’s the sort of promise money can’t buy. Look at Dash and Nicola—happy, in love, committed, building a beautiful life together. I’d hate for you to miss out on a lifetime of beautiful memories and purpose.”
I save my breath and decide not to tell him that his one and only married child feels like she wants to murder her husband half the time—to the point where she’s practically counting down the days until our father croaks so she can be a free woman again.
“I know I say a lot. And I’ve said a lot just now. But if there’s one thing you take away from this conversation, it should be that there is someone out there for you, and I hope you find her sooner rather than later. Who knows, you’ll probably find her when you least expect it. Or it could be someone you already know. Maybe the one for you has been in front of you this whole time, waiting for you to make a move.”
He’s always been deeply romantic at heart. I’ll never forget the weekly delivery of red roses my mother would sign for every Friday when I was a kid. On Saturdays, he would take her out on some sort of special date. Sometimes they’d go to the symphony. Other times they’d sneak away to some jazz concert or rooftop restaurant. They would always dress to the nines and come home long after the three of us had gone to bed for the night.
That said, I suspect he wasn’t always that way.
Long before my siblings and I were a twinkle in his eye, he was married to another woman. They had two daughters—Emily and Hannah—and they lived in some countryside estate in Vermont.