Page 62 of The Paradise Problem

CHARLIE HAS CHOSEN CREAM linen for the groomsmen, and I trust that she knows what she’s doing, because in this heat and humidity, I suspect it will be only a half hour before the wedding party looks like a collection of wadded-up newspaper.

But there’s food and drinks and a mostly great group of guys. We’re in the groom’s prep room, a wide, bright space where a few tailors have set up for the day. My father and Alex aside, Kellan and his best friend, Nate, are hilarious together. Add in Jake, and the room gets loud with overlapping accent impressions, stories of Kellan’s pre-Charlie mistakes in romance, marital predictions that I probably don’t want to hear, and laughter.

“How are the toasts coming?” Kellan asks. The Weston brothers have each been tasked with a short speech at the wedding. Alex will probably use his time to kiss Dad’s ass. My speech will be thoughtful, sentimental, and most importantly, short.

Jake is the wild card. Given the way he was expected to be either charming or invisible as a child, my baby brother never misses an opportunity to be the center of attention in a crowd, and standing on a wooden pedestal at the front of the room is his time to shine.

“Oh, I have mine ready,” he says, grinning at his reflection. The tailor continues to move around him, pinning and measuring, but Jake will not be deterred. “I thought I’d start with something like, ‘When I was four years old, our mom said we were getting a present. The best, most exciting present ever. When it turned out Mom didn’t mean we were getting a dog, I took Charlie to the neighbor’s house and offered to trade.’ ”

Laughter fills the room.

“Or I could talk about the time when I was twelve and we were watching Forrest Gump. After the movie, Charlie looked at me and asked what I thought the most important lesson from the movie was. Wanting to be a good big brother, I told her I thought it was about never underestimating yourself. Now, I should have prefaced this story with a few things,” he says, adjusting his tie. “First, I had blood sugar issues as a kid, and couldn’t eat a lot of sweets. Second, I had two older brothers who gave me copious amounts of shit, so I spent a fair amount of time giving it to Charlie. So, this adorable little eight-year-old looks up at me with her big, innocent eyes and says, ‘No, the most important lesson is that life is like a box of chocolates. Do you know what that means, Jakey? It means that you’re fucked.’ ”

The room erupts. Finished with his fitting, and like the great performer that he is, Jake grins widely and steps off the podium to head my way. Unfortunately, this is also the moment he zeroes in on my neck.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” he says, quieting the room as he leans in to get a better look. “Hold the phone. Does my big brother have a hickey?”

Catcalls surround us and I shove him away, feeling my skin heat under my collar.

“Not surprised,” Alex calls from his side of the room. “They were putting on quite a show earlier.” He lowers his voice: “You’d never catch me behaving like that.”

“Yeah, your wife has mentioned this once or twice,” Jake says, and the laughter starts up again.

Oblivious to the jovial atmosphere in the room, Dad steps up beside me at the long mirror and doesn’t waste any time. “What kind of bullshit was that last night with Ellis?”

“It wasn’t the time or place, Dad.” The tailor approaches, crouching to adjust the unfinished hem of my dress pants. “It’s not the time now, either.”

The last thing I want is for Alex to hear any of this and mistake whatever it is for me gunning for the CEO role.

But my father doesn’t pick up on the cue. “Are you fucking kidding, Liam? More business happens at a wedding than at a weeklong conference at a Hilton. Why do you think I have half of these people here?”

“To celebrate the beginning of your only daughter’s life with Kellan McKellan?” I unbutton the collar of the shirt and then tug my cuffs down in the linen sport coat, looking at the tailor. “Could we lengthen the sleeve on the coat a bit?”

Nodding, the tailor helps me out of it and pins a note with measurements to the sleeve. I’m done with my fitting, and despite all the laughter and how much I needed a little time to think about nothing, I am suddenly, keenly ready to get out of here.

My father stops me from leaving with a hand on my arm. “This has to be settled.”

“It is settled, Dad.” I glance across the room to make sure Alex hasn’t heard. “And regarding last night, it is absolutely not going to go over with the board if you soft launch me in front of the editor of Forbes as your successor without their input.”

When I look back, my eyes meet Dad’s in the mirror. “Are you saying yes, then?” he asks.

“How—I mean, how on earth does that translate to yes?” I run my thumbnail along my eyebrow, trying to keep my cool in this crowded room. “Dad. I’m not coming on board. I have no idea why you would think that.”

“You’re the only person in this family who has what it takes to do this job.”

I stare at my father in shock. There are about a million things I want to say in response, but what comes out is the one I would want to say the very least: the most vulnerable. “Then why did you throw me to the wolves?”

There’s a shocked pause, and then my father tosses his head back and laughs. “Oh, it’s going to be this sob story again.”

I can’t do this.

Mute with rage, I change back into my shorts and T-shirt, forfeiting the rest of the time together with the other men for the sake of my sanity. I hug Kellan, shake Mr. McKellan’s hand, and pat Jake’s shoulder as I pass.

He starts to ask why I’m leaving, but one look at my face and he knows. He glances to Dad and I see my younger brother in action, the way his mind wildly searches for an anecdote, a joke, some story to divert the path from potential explosion and back to good times as I make a quiet exit.

It’s a ten-minute walk back to the bungalows, but I get only five of them in peace.

“When are you going to grow up?” my father calls from only a few feet behind me.

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