“Your father had to do what he had to do. You have no right to get involved.”
“You knew about this?” I guess.
Leaning over the table, I say, “What were you thinking?”
“We were thinking that we needed that money to save the company.”
“You tanked that company stock for no reason.”
“Not no reason. That CEO was an asshole and you know it.”
I shake my head.
“Besides, self-driving cars? What the hell is that? What are they going to do, stop inventing all of these new robots and machines and give people’s jobs back?”
“This isn’t about that,” I say. “This is a political discussion.”
“Everything is a political discussion.”
“Dad committed fraud and you know about it; you’re involved with it. I’m sure that a lot of federal prosecutors would be very interested to find out exactly what you and that short seller did and how you conspired together to ruin one of the biggest companies in the world.”
“We didn’t ruin anything,” Mom says. “Their stock went down a little bit. We made some money. They have bounced back.”
“They wouldn’t have to bounce back if this had never happened, but guess what? It did.”
Our lemonades come. She takes a sip of hers and pushes it away.
“I don’t drink tap water,” she says. Grabbing her purse, she gets up from behind the table.
“I have to talk to you.” I follow her.
She shakes her head.
“I don’t eat at places like this and I don’t discuss things that are done and put away. Stop bringing up the past. Stop opening scabs that you have no business touching.”
“You have to make Dad go to the FBI,” I whisper. “He has got to make a deal.”
“Your father is never making any deal with any fucking FBI.”
I really thought that my meeting with my mom would go a lot better, otherwise I wouldn’t have even bothered. Still, I don’t give up hope on my dad. This is going to happen whether he makes the deal or not but if he does, then at least there’s a chance that he won’t get as much time.
However we handle Franklin, this is coming to light and my father will have to face the public about his involvement. If he were to go to the authorities with his attorney, then he stands a chance to actually get away with some of it.
No, getting away is the wrong way to think about it. He will give them evidence and it will help them build a better case. In return, he will not have to serve a sentence. That’s how it works and that’s how most people in his position would solve the problem.
Later that afternoon, I find my father in his usual afternoon haunt; an oak covered club where men come to sit around, drink brandy, and talk politics and business like they have for the last couple hundred years. Despite women gaining the ability to vote and own property, we are still not allowed to be members because…tradition or is it misogyny? I keep getting the two confused.
The assistant at the front doesn’t want to let me in but he reluctantly goes back and finds my father. When he returns, he shows me down the long hallway and into a dark wooden room with built-in bookshelves going all the way up to the ceiling and even a ladder to make browsing easier. It’s a dream come true library for any book fan and it personally reminds me of the one from Beauty and the Beast.
There are two men sitting across from each other, talking in hushed tones. I see my father by the window in a wingback chair, nursing a crystal glass of whiskey.
I expect him to get up and give me a hug but he barely acknowledges my existence. I sit down across from him, pushing my fingers into the velvet of the seat.
“You’re not supposed to be here, Aurora. This is my private place.”
“I know but I had to talk to you and this can’t wait.”
He stares icily back into my face.
“I’m at the club,” he says, enunciating every syllable.
That’s supposed to explain something to me but it goes over my head.
“I have to talk to you–”
“Your mother called me. She told me that you ambushed her and forced her to go to the Cheesecake Factory of all places.”
“You make it sound like a war zone,” I say.
“Well, I didn’t want to do the same thing to you so I thought I would just find you here.”
He exhales slowly, laser focusing his gaze on me.
“You need to consider going to the authorities,” I say. “You need to talk to a lawyer and try to make this right.”
“I’m not making any deals,” he says sternly.
He has way too much to lose and he has already sacrificed me, to some degree, to Franklin to save himself and his company.
“Why not?” I ask.
“If I go public with this, if I make a deal, then I’m a dead man. Franklin is the only one protecting me. The guy that I made the deal with, the short seller? He’s not your usual white-collar criminal. He’s connected. He’s got ties and I can’t cross him. Why does it matter anyway?”
I want to tell him that Franklin is going down but I force myself to stop.
“Franklin and I are not going to be married for much longer. Your deal with him, I’m not gonna go through with it.”
“No, you can’t.” My father shakes his head. “If you file for divorce or if you pull out, I will no longer have Franklin’s protection.”
“That’s why you have to make a deal,” I say.
“No, that’s why you have to stay married and keep your mouth shut. We made this promise. We’re all going to be rich as a result.”
“We’re already rich, Dad. How much fucking money do you need?”
“We were rich, Aurora, but we were upside down on all of our debts and all of our mortgages when I made that deal with Franklin. Why else do you think I promised my only daughter to him? I wouldn’t have done it for no good reason. You have to trust me.”
I take a deep breath, exhaling ever so slowly. I lick my lips and look out the window.
My mouth is parched.
My lips are cracked. I came here to give him a chance to get out of this but he doesn’t believe me.
He doesn’t trust me.
What can I do?
“I’m here to help you, Dad. You’re not doing me a favor, I’m doing you a favor. Despite everything that you did to me, I’m still sitting here across from you and hoping that you will listen to me and make that deal. That’s the best advice that I can offer you.”
31
Aurora
Later that evening, I meet up with Henry at our local bookstore. It’s a chain, two floors tall, and plenty of space for waiting, drinking coffee, and just mingling.
It used to be one of my favorite places to go but now it’s also my only solace. Franklin is supposed to be working late but I still give him the courtesy of telling him where I am. So far, he has been rather trusting and I hope that continues just for a little bit longer.
Still, I’m cautiously optimistic.
Henry arrives right on time. He meets me in the stacks, on the second floor, near the philosophy section, which is what most people tend to avoid. He tries to give me a peck on the cheek but I shake my head no.