Page 25 of Prince Charmless
“You told me you quit last month,” I say.
Not sure why I believed him. I’ve been hearing those words since I was a child. He had a good sober bout after Mom, also a smoker, died of lung cancer, but he’s recently picked it back up despite my explicit instructions to his staff not to give him any.
“It’s only one a day.”
I raise a brow.
“Maybe two or three if I have a lot going on.”
I knew it. He always has a lot going on.
“Dad, you’re almost a hundred years old. I need you alive, remember? I want your job for as few years as possible. Don’t you read the labels on these?” I hold up the pack that reads SMOKING KILLS – FUMER TUE ten times larger than its brand name. Not that he needs a piece of cardboard to remind him. He lost a wife over this shit.
“Happy to know you care so much for me, son,” he says blankly. “I’m glad you’re here, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
He’s the master at changing subjects. I learn from the best.
He grabs a file from his desk drawer and puts it in front of me. As I scan through French legalese, I realize it’s the will of my maternal grandmother.
“I’m thinking about selling Char’s old house,” Dad says. “Your grandmother’s left the property to you and Tom, but I don’t think you’re using it for anything, right? It’s a waste the place is sitting empty.”
I shake my head. My mother’s childhood home is this secluded two-story mansion right on the water. The differences between my two ‘grandma’s houses’ were night and day. Christmas Eve at my mom’s side was chaotic, filled with running through the halls in our pajamas and snowball fights that would end in black eyes. Christmas day atTheGrandmother’s house was dreadfully uneventful, filled with mass and being on your best behavior. The chefs at the palace are world class, butthere’s something about spending the whole day grueling over Christmas Eve dinner that makes it taste way better than a prepared meal. My dad’s side of the family is obviously too good to cook for themselves.
“I’ll have to tell your brother,” he says. “I think he tends to some horses there.”
“Yes, speaking of which, Tom got upset and says he’s not coming to the RCE fundraiser.”
“Have you tried waiting it out? That child is very wishy-washy.”
“I think he’s serious. He’s ghosted me for four days.”
“What’s ‘ghosted’?”
“He’s avoiding me,” I clarify because he’s ancient. “Instead, he’ll be in Vegas playing in the Poker World Series of all things.”
“World Series?” Dad sounds shocked.
I only shrug because I was shocked too.
He takes off his glasses and sets them on the desk. “So he’ll be gambling in a foreign country during an event that raises money for kids and schoolteachers. That won’t look good.”
“I need you to tell him he’s not thinking clearly. He’ll listen to you.”
Dad gets up from his chair and assumes the position to lecture me by standing in front of the window with his hands on his hips. He’s so dramatic.
“Taylor, when you asked me if you could head the Crown’s most prized charity, I had hesitation.”Here we fucking go.“But you may have proved me wrong. Do you know how many scholarships we’ve given out since you’ve taken over?”
“You’ll have to ask Alex for the exact numbers, but it’s certainly grown in the last four years.”
“Exponentially, I heard.”
Is he trying to compliment me? I’m not sure because I rarely get those from him. The charity used to host two parties a year,but I cut one of them and put the money we saved into more meaningful endeavors. I also reduced the number of people we invite to just the top donors. Alex told me some were peeved about this, but I don’t care. A lot of the new money we received came from smaller donors raising their pledges in fear of being cut from the ‘exclusive club’. Never underestimate the power of rich people and their exclusive clubs.
He turns around. “What I’m saying is, I don’t run the charity anymore, and you seem to be doing more than all right. I’m not going to be available all the time to solve bumps in the road. You’ll have to learn to figure things out on your own.”
“Iamfiguring things out on my own. And I’ve figured that you need to text him. It’ll take two seconds.” I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone. I can do it for you.” I probably just need seven words.Tom, go to the party, or else.
My father doesn’t move, and my hand rests empty.
