My mouth drops open.
Despite whatever issues I've ever had with either of them, they have been these God-like creatures in my life, untouchable by anyone or anything.
Looking at them now, I find it hard to believe that things have changed. My hands tremble a bit, but I force myself to focus and to remain calm. I can't freak out before I know what is really going on and I can't let them see how worried I really am.
I have to stay strong.
We walk down one block, and then another. I wait for them to start talking, but they don't. Finally, when we reach the bodega three blocks away, I turn to face my father and ask him flat out, “What is really going on?”
My father looks down at the ground but says nothing.
“The company has been losing money for a long time,” Mom steps in. “We have gotten involved in a lot of investments that did not go as well as we thought they would. A number of the companies went bankrupt, and there were a few financial irregularities with some of the other ones that we had invested in.”
I nod, nudging her to continue.
“We have been trying our best to figure out what to do, and so far, we have not been particularly successful. The best thing to do would be to find a buyer, but it is important to make sure that we can get a good price. And as you know, we can't get a good price if people don't think that Tate Media is worth very much.”
I give her another slight nod just to show her that I'm paying attention.
“We have had a few buyers fall through,” Dad interjects. “We thought that they were going to go for it, but at the very last minute they pulled out.”
“Why didn't you tell me about any of this?” I ask.
“We didn't really wanna bother you with everything that has been going on,” he says.
I shake my head and walk in place to stay warm.
Everything within me tells me to run back to my apartment and just climb under the covers, but I can't. This is very serious and I have to face it head on.
“Here's the thing, Aurora,” my mother says, putting her arm on my shoulder.
“We did find one buyer, and he's very interested.”
“Good,” I say with a forced smile. “So what's wrong?”
“The only way that he will go along with the sale, given how poorly the company has been doing, is if… you are part of it.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Well, you have apparently made quite an impression and he wants you to…” Her voice trails off.
My gaze goes back-and-forth between her and my father.
My father is looking down at the ground, and she is looking somewhere past me.
“What is going on here?” I ask both of them.
“The thing is…” Mom starts to say, but then her voice trails off.
“Just tell me," I insist.
“Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath.
Mom starts again, but again she is unable to come out with it.
“He wants you to marry him,” my father says, cutting her off. “He wants you to be his wife.”
“What? No,” I say, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
“See,” Dad says, turning to my mom. “What did I tell you? There's no way she'll do it.”
“Why would he want to marry me? Who is he?” I ask, tugging at his overcoat to get him to turn around. “Tell me everything.”
“It's Franklin Parks,” my mother says softly.
I stare at her.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Franklin is the buyer.”
“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “He works for you.”
“It's more complicated than that,” my father says, taking a step away from me.
His eyes won't meet mine.
I have never seen him so defeated looking.
I shake my head and tap my foot on the ground.
“What is going on?" I ask both of them over and over again.
“Franklin is running the crime division because he wanted to get some experience and learn a little bit more about the culture of the company and how we do things here,” Dad says. “He also wanted to be involved in the hiring process of all new employees. It's a test case for him. But in reality, he's a very wealthy man who is ready to buy Tate Media, for the right price.”
“So, why doesn't he just buy it?” I ask.
My mother raises her chin a little bit into the air, focusing her eyes directly on mine.
“He has heard a lot about you,” she says after a long pause. "Saw pictures of you, watched you on social media.”
“And he's very interested in what he has seen,” my father adds.
My skin starts to crawl.
I hate the way that they talk about me as if I'm some sort of commodity.
"Wait a second,” I say, shaking my head. "Is that why you asked me to go to that gala with him?”
“Yes, of course,” she says. “He wanted to get to know you a little better and, apparently, he liked what he saw.”
“How could he?” I ask. “I rejected him. I told him to go fuck himself, in so many words.”
“I don’t know,” Mom says.
“Why is he even interested? He told me that he didn't care about dating anyone in particular, let alone marrying someone. Why the hell does he want to marry me?”
“I don't know,” my mother says. “We don't know. He has his reasons, I'm sure. The one thing that we know is that the only way that he will purchase the company and make this justice department investigation go away is if you agree to marry him.”
We can’t talk inside in case the place is bugged so I talk to my parents for a long time standing on that street corner.
I keep asking them why, why, why, but they keep repeating the same thing over and over again without giving me anymore information.
Eventually, I give up and go home. I tell them that I'm going to consider it but, in reality, I have no interest in doing anything like that.
There must be another way for them to sell the company, if that's even what they want to do.
I still don't know if that's the right decision.
They have spent their whole lives building it from scratch, so why sell it now?
All of the things that I don't know about this deal could fill the contents of the New York Library.
When I ask them to explain more about what's going on with the company itself, they decline. They argue that it's for my own safety because the less that I know, the less that the justice department can accuse me of knowing.
But where does that leave me?
When I get home and curl up in bed, for the first time in a long time I'm actually happy that Henry's not here. I was angry at him for missing my graduation, but given this bomb that my parents have thrown into my lap, I'm glad that I don't have to pretend that everything is all right.
26
Aurora
The following morning I wake up with a throbbing headache and it only gets worse with every passing hour. I drink lots of water, and a few cups of coffee, but nothing makes it go away. Perhaps the coffee makes it even worse? Last night was difficult to handle.