Page 56 of Best Laid Plans

"You need to let the past go."

"Why are you so invested in this?" I demanded, annoyed with him for pushing me to ruminate over things that depleted me because I went round and round, getting nowhere.

"Because you're my friend," Diego patted my shoulder. "We're meeting at the new steakhouse at half past five. It's early, I know, but Nova has a long drive home."

He put his empty bourbon glass on my table, and left. I finished my drink, and did some work. I was about to leave when my office door was pushed open. My mother walked in with a crying Bailey in tow.

"This is my office," I spoke coldly before Mama could open her mouth. "And I won't have this drama here."

I looked at my watch, relieved that Nova and Diego had probably left. I was already five minutes late.

"Yes, you will," Mama insisted. "How dare you, Anson?"

I let my mother get away with a lot, but I wasn't feeling generous right now. Like Bailey, Mama couldn't read a room, couldn't see that I was just not in the mood for her to play tough-love mother.

"Bailey, please leave my office."

Bailey looked at my mother for support and got it.

"She's goin' nowhere." Mama dug in her heels.

"Then I'm leavin'." I picked up my phone and car keys.

"We're going to talk and sort this out right now. So, sit—"

"Mama," I cut her off in a tone that I hoped got through to her, "I'm a grown man, and as much as I love you, I'm not your dutiful son who's goin' to heel when you say so."

Mama literally took a step back as if I'd struck her. Lately, I was losing my patience with her. With Nova back, the racist talk had ratcheted up, or maybe I was finally paying attention.

"See, Nicole, he's being so…mean," Bailey wailed.

I didn't roll my eyes, even though I wanted to. "Bailey, get the fuck out of my office now."

"Anson," my mother cried out.

I looked from one woman to another, and decided that it was better to just walk away. I did so. Mama tried to stop me, and Bailey begged. Thankfully, the office was mostly empty, so no one witnessed my pathetic family show.

I got into my SUV and drove to the steakhouse. I drove a well-maintained and practical Ford Explorer, which bothered Bailey, who thought I should drive something fancy since I was a Larue.

"But how will people know how much you have if you drive something like this?" she'd complained.

"Bailey, this is a comfortable, midsize SUV that offers plenty of space and features. It's reliable and functional."

"I want us to drive a nicer car. Can't you get a Porsche or something a little more upscale?"

"Feel free to buy one for yourself, Bailey, and drive it. I'm not buyin' a new car."

"You bought Charmaine's son a car," Bailey threw at me. "He gets a car, and I don't?"

"He just graduated from U.C. Berkeley summa cum laude. That was a graduation gift for him so he could drive to and from his job," I explained patiently. "And, Bailey, it's my fuckin' money, and I'll spend it the way I choose to."

She'd nagged and nagged, but I hadn't given in. I liked the Ford, and it did its job just fine. When I was younger, I'd chased the flashy, but now, I always wondered if there was a better way to spend my money. This was when Charmaine started to help me by selecting charities I could support. Together with my head of human resources, she managed corporate social responsibility at Larue Homes, leading initiatives that supported affordable housing, women's shelters, the construction of schools in underserved neighborhoods, and more.

I had so much. I wanted to give back.

During our discussions about the economy when I was in Yale, Nova quoted Mahatma Gandhi once. "An economic system that can only help a few while the majority suffer is a system that needs to be changed."

That set me on a path to understanding how Larue Homes and the Larue money could help others while it kept growing. Knowing that my company and I were contributing to society in more ways than running a business gave me peace, and helped me find direction for Larue Homes. We developed projects that would pump money into local communities.

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