“What…is…happening?” Blake.
Dad’s voice was ice cold, and his eyes were shards as they gazed at Chad. “Stand in my home and tell my daughter who you are.”
Chad swung to Blake. “She didn’t mean anything, I swear to God.”
Blake’s eyes got huge.
The room existed in suspended animation for long, tense moments.
Then she jumped Chad.
I jumped up from my chair to race around the table.
But Rix caught her with two arms, one at her chest, one at her ribs, and pulled her back.
“You motherfucker!” she shrieked, striking out with fingers set to claws.
“Blakey, baby,” Chad whined.
Blake went stiff as a board and screamed, “Pencil-dick motherfucker!”
I knew I was right about his manhood.
“Leave now, Chad,” Dad ordered.
“But, Mr. Sha—”
“Leave!”
Chad went ramrod straight, turned stiffly to Blake, and said, “We’ll talk, honey. We will. We’ll talk. We’ll sort this out.”
And then he quickly took his leave.
Rix held on to Blake long enough for Chad to get a head start that she couldn’t possibly catch up to him on her heels, and then he let her go.
She whirled on him instantly. “And how did you know this?”
Rix didn’t sugarcoat it, and it was bad (for Blake) but good, because she needed to understand what was happening.
“I walked in on him when he was inside her.”
Blake blanched and whispered, “At our cocktail party?”
Ugh.
I felt sorry for her.
Then I stopped doing that when she turned to me and accused, “You knew this and didn’t tell me?”
“Hup.” Rix used that sound to call her attention, which he got. “Remember? We don’t blame your sister for shit that’s your problem?”
Blake’s face scrunched in anger.
“I’ll call your mother and tell her to cancel the brunch,” Dad murmured.
“Don’t you do that, Dad,” Blake snapped.
Dad stilled. “Why not?”
“We’re not canceling the brunch,” Blake decreed.
“Have you lost your mind?” Dad asked.
“I can’t…I have to think. Let me think!” she screeched.
Dad didn’t let her think. “You cannot possibly be entertaining the notion you’ll carry on with this wedding.”
“I should talk to Chad,” she told the table.
“Blake, look at me,” Dad demanded.
Her eyes coasted to him.
“You are not marrying that pathetic, worthless pile of shit,” Dad proclaimed. “I’ve never liked him. You know this. I’ve told you often enough. I’d say he hasn’t had a single original thought, but I’m not even certain he’s actually even had a single thought.”
“We’ve been together for years,” she returned.
“Who fucking cares?” Dad asked. “He was inside another woman just last night.”
“Oh my God! Everyone stop saying that!” Blake yelled.
“I am not paying another dime on this wedding, Blake Charlotte. And the final bills have not come in,” Dad warned.
Blake lifted her chin. “I have to talk to Chad.”
“And I’m freezing your fund if you marry that vast waste of space,” Dad threatened.
Blake’s face flamed.
“Daddy!”
He sat and put his napkin back in his lap, stating, “You take time. Gather yourself. And for once in your goddamned life, make good decisions.”
Dad reached to his coffee.
Rix and I glanced at each other.
“Alex, Rix, please, join me,” Dad urged. “Blake, do I need to ask Cassandra to bring you a plate?”
“Gah!” Blake cried and raced out.
Dad sighed.
“Should I go after her?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t, she’ll not thank you and she won’t make it worth your time,” Dad declared, and bit into toast.
Rix sat.
So I sat.
Dad set his toast on his plate, chewed, swallowed, dotted his lips with his napkin, and for the third time that morning, looked me in the eye.
“Welcome home, my darling,” he drawled wryly.
Never.
Not in my life did what happened next happen with me and my father.
But it did then.
I burst out laughing.
Breakfast went without further incident.
And after we’d finished eating, Dad hung around, we found, because he was working from home that morning due to the fact that he was meant to be at a brunch at eleven-thirty.
Also, because I was home.
We chatted over a fresh pot of coffee that Cassandra brought in, discussing things Rix and I could do in New York now that all the wedding festivities were sure to be canceled.
In that time, Dad had been on his phone once.
To talk to his home/social/life assistant and tell her to contact his work assistants, and Cathy, not to mention the wedding planner, to put them on call to deal with all the possible cancelations.
“I’m taking charge of Cathy,” he said as he slid the phone face down on the table. “Your sister has no idea how to handle an employee. The only reason Cathy has stayed is the exaggerated salary I pay her to cope with being managed by Blake. I honest to God don’t know how the poor woman has succeeded in not murdering your sister with the numerous and contradictory demands.”
I had a sinking feeling Dad’s hopeful thoughts about the demise of Chad and Blake would be dashed, but I didn’t say anything.
Instead, I sat back and kinda marveled about how well he seemed to be getting on with Rix.
There was definitely a hint of We’re Both Men! going on from Dad’s side.
But Dad hadn’t even inferred he was going to test or challenge Rix, cerebrally or physically. No invitations for a squash game or a round of golf or request for a verbal dissertation on Santiago. And I wasn’t sure Dad knew Rix had lost his legs, so that wasn’t the reason why Dad refrained.
He was himself: not-so-subtly arrogant, plainspoken, unabashedly privileged and elitist.
But there was something…changed about him.
More relaxed.
Outside his behavior last night when he was around Mom and Blake, which was no different than usual, the only concerning thing I’d noted was how he’d slumped in his chair when Blake showed.
Until the second concerning thing happened in the middle of Rix and Dad discussing the pros and cons of the learning experiences found in foreign travel.
And how Dad felt (and I couldn’t rebut this) kids would get a great deal out of understanding there was a whole wide world out there with different cultures, languages, religions, customs, and how, in all these places, they, too, were doing good—or bad—things that affected the planet.
Dad was pro this idea (he’d always been big into travel, and I wasn’t just talking about skiing in Gstaad or visiting Capri (though, he did those too), he was an adventurer, traveling to some hard-to-get-to village in Thailand because there was a local dish that had to be tasted, or to tour a remote facility in Iceland that produced energy from the earth’s heat).
He was arguing using Hale’s money to significantly expand exchange programs or offering camps in different countries and shuffling where kids would go.