Asylum (Pride and Joy Book 2)

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Asylum (Pride and Joy Book 2) Page 31

by Robert Winter


  “Only if it’s something you get interested in. It’s a lot of time to put in even to get your license. Usually between seventy-five and a hundred flying hours, plus you have to study written materials and pass a test. If you then want to get an instrument rating, that takes a lot longer.”

  “I get the feeling you haven’t had a lot of people to share aviation with,” Hernán said.

  “True, at least since my grandfather died. My dad was never interested in learning. Neither were my brother and sister. My mom actually did take a few lessons, but she decided it wasn’t for her.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Hernán said after a pause.

  The hour-long flight went by quickly until he had to concentrate for landing. He put down at Teterboro, a private airport in New Jersey close to Manhattan and the nearest one to his parents’ house in Saddle River.

  When they had taxied to a stop, opened the gull-wing doors of the plane, and emerged, Hernán’s face went blank. A man in a black suit waited for them next to a limousine. Colin said sheepishly, “Mom sent the driver to pick us up. Sorry I didn’t warn you.”

  Hernán fidgeted as Watkins greeted “Mister Colin” and unloaded their bags from the plane’s cargo hold to put in the trunk of the limo. Colin tugged Hernán toward the open door and into the back seat. When they were settled, Watkins closed the door behind Hernán before taking the wheel.

  He whispered to Colin, “Did you grow up with a driver?”

  Colin took his hand. “Yes. I hated it then. Watkins drove my brother, sister and me to and from our boarding school. It used to embarrass me, frankly. Most of my friends showed up in ordinary cars. Katherine always loved it though.”

  “Katherine is older than you, right? You don’t talk a lot about her. Will she be there this weekend?”

  “Yes, she’s coming for dinner. Her husband and two kids are camping somewhere. Though what Alhaadi considers camping, I can’t guess. It’s probably a luxury cabin in the woods with a pool.”

  “Do you and Katherine get along well?”

  “We’re very different people without a lot in common. She loves business and started working with Dad as soon as she could. I was never even tempted.”

  “How about your brother, uh, Griffin?”

  “We see each other more often. He didn’t want to work with Dad but he’s got almost as much business acumen as Katherine. He started a line of organic soaps and shampoos for people with sensitive skin. It’s doing really well. A few big stores in DC carry his products so I see him when he comes for meetings.”

  Hernán’s nerves practically showed through his skin. “Your lives are so different from anything I ever knew in El Salvador. What if your family doesn’t like me?”

  Colin kissed his knuckles. “Please don’t worry about that. Look, I know how lucky I am. There’s money and comfort and all that. But I don’t think I was ever really happy until you came into my life. My parents are going to see that right away, and they’ll love you for that alone.”

  Hernán blushed and hid his head on Colin’s shoulder. Colin debated closing the privacy panel, but he didn’t think Hernán would be comfortable shutting out Watkins. He contented himself with tightening his arm around Hernán.

  The drive didn’t take long, and the industrial parts of New Jersey quickly gave way to vistas of horse farms and large houses. Hernán watched out the window, rapt. The car wove its way into a tree-lined and manicured neighborhood, with large houses partially obscured by hedges or carefully planted evergreens.

  Colin took a deep breath as Watkins turned into his parents’ driveway and took them up to the front entrance rather than along the side of the house to the courtyard. The look on Hernán’s face was some combination of awe and terror.

  “¡Dios mío!” he whispered, looking at Colin round-eyed and slack-jawed. “It’s a castle.”

  Hernán had a point. The honey-colored stone and gray slate roof had been inspired by French chateaux. The looming windows, dormers, brick chimneys, and huge oak front door were designed to be impressive. Fortunately, from the front, it wasn’t obvious just how big the house really was. The tightly manicured hedges, clipped into serpentine shapes, at least helped to soften the appearance, Colin thought.

  He winced. “Yeah, it’s a little much.” Hernán just shook his head.

  The front door opened and Mom stepped out. Colin almost laughed, because she wore blue jeans and a flannel shirt. He’d never seen her in anything so dressed down in his life. Her blonde bob framed patrician features and icy blue eyes, the whole effect warmed by her smile.

  Watkins opened the door and Colin slid out quickly to greet his mother. Bending to kiss her cheek as they hugged, he whispered, “Thank you. I didn’t think you own anything that isn’t couture.”

  Mom brushed her thumb over the smudge of lipstick she’d left on his cheek. “Darling, these jeans are Chanel.”

  “Of course they are.” He turned, one arm around Mom’s waist, to hold out a hand for Hernán. “Margaret Felton, this is Hernán Portillo. My boyfriend.”

  Hernán stepped closer, clearly tense. He held out a hand and said, “I’m very happy to meet you. Thank you for letting me stay at your home.” His eyes seemed drawn upward to the façade.

  Margaret held onto his hand. “This was all Jim’s idea. My husband. He went to Disneyland as a boy and all his life wanted to give a daughter Cinderella’s castle. So when Katherine was born, he built it! I had to make him take the towers and drawbridge out of the architect’s rendering though.”

  Hernán chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “All it needs is that fairy flying over it and sprinkling pixie dust.”

  “Hey, I’m standing right here, but I forgot my pixie dust,” Colin protested with a wink for Mom.

  “I think there’s some in your room, dear,” she said. “Hernán, would you like a tour?”

  He looked over his shoulder at the car. “Our bags—?”

  “Watkins will take them to Colin’s room. Come along.” She looped an arm through Hernán’s and led the way into the house, Colin following with fingers crossed.

  Hernán felt like he was walking through a museum or a movie set. At least, a place that someone like him shouldn’t touch. The interior of the house seemed even more grand than the outside.

  Margaret was kind, welcoming and elegant. She kept up a running conversation as she showed him through huge rooms with vaulted ceilings and rich, upholstered furniture. He barely noticed her questions or the answers he gave as he craned his head over gorgeous paintings and other works of art.

  The dining room table looked like it could seat twenty or more. The living room featured a grand piano and two fireplaces. A smaller parlor—the size of Colin’s entire apartment, it seemed—had French doors opening to a courtyard. Beyond that he could see a pool. And was that a tennis court?

  Margaret ended the tour of the first floor in the kitchen. She gestured to a sturdy stool pulled next to a marble-topped island. “Boys, please have a seat. Let me get you something to drink while I check with Rosie about dinner.”

  Hernán sat next to Colin, who rested his elbow on the marble and his cheek on his hand. “It’s all too much, isn’t it?” Colin asked.

  Hernán shook his head in a daze. “It’s beautiful. There’s just…so much of it.”

  Margaret stood near the kitchen range—easily ten yards away—and talked to a woman in a white uniform and apron. Then she returned to lean against the other side of the island. “Rosie will be over with your drinks in a moment. What do you think, Hernán? Should we take a break from the tour and let Colin show you his room? Oh, thank you,” she said to the uniformed woman, who appeared next to her with two glasses of juice.

  “Mister Colin, I hope you still like grapefruit juice.”

  “I do, thanks. Rosie, this is Hernán.”

  She bobbed her head politely at him. “Very nice to meet you, sir. If you need any food or drinks, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She left them
to return to her stove, from which wonderful smells filled the room.

  Margaret glanced at her watch, a delicate gold thing at odds with her outfit. Hernán suddenly understood she’d dressed to make him comfortable, and the thought made him squirm, embarrassed.

  “Your father will be home around six, Colin. Why don’t you show Hernán upstairs or rest, and we’ll have cocktails in the parlor at six-thirty. Katherine said she’d come by around seven, so we’ll sit to dinner after that. All right, dear? Is there anything you need, Hernán?”

  He swallowed hard and stood up, glass of juice clenched in his hand. “No, thank you, Mrs. Felton. This is all so lovely.”

  “Call me Margaret, dear. Run along and we’ll visit more soon. I want to hear more about these language classes you’re giving at Colin’s little nonprofit.”

  Hernán blinked, unsure how to react. He didn’t realize he’d told her about the language classes, but then remembered the skillful way she’d asked questions as she led him through the tour. But she’d called the Immigration Initiative “Colin’s little nonprofit.” That seemed dismissive, but he bit his tongue and nodded his head.

  Colin led him out of the kitchen, down a long hallway, and up a wide, spiral staircase with wrought-iron railings. On the second floor, they passed an open door revealing a wood-paneled room filled with bookcases and chairs. “The library,” Colin said, and then at the next door, added, “This is mine.”

  The door was open so he gestured for Hernán to proceed him in. The room seemed huge, with walls painted a peculiar shade of a deeply saturated blue that somehow made it feel cozy. A high window with floor-to-ceiling damask curtains looked over the courtyard and swimming pool.

  A king-size four-poster bed sat next to the window. Two chairs and a sofa created a seating area next to a fireplace, in which a nice blaze was going. Closets lined one wall, and another door opened to what appeared to be a bathroom.

  Only gradually did Hernán see through the wealthy trappings to find Colin’s personality in the room. Star Wars figures posed in a glass case. A wall cabinet contained swords, and another was full of masks Hernán recognized as being from all over Latin America. The bedspread was blue and black, with a white square in the center. It contained embroidered words that began, “Police Telephone, Free for Use of Public.”

  He knew that phrase. Racking his brain, he realized from where—Doctor Who. He looked up again at the walls and gaped.

  “You painted it TARDIS blue!”

  Colin blushed. “Yeah, well…I told you this was Vintage Nerd. I should probably let Mom update my room, but I dunno.” He looked around, hands in his pockets. “I still kind of like it.”

  Hernán said, “It suits you, even now.”

  “Hey, are you interested in masks?” Colin said, leading Hernán to the cabinet.

  Colin had hoped they’d have sex when they got to his room, but Hernán seemed uncomfortable and overwhelmed by the house. Instead of playing in the sheets, Hernán had Colin dig out some of his favorite games. They spent an hour laughing together through a session of the original Star Wars board game. “I remember this as being a lot more fun,” Colin pouted as he lost.

  After the game, they sprawled on Colin’s bed, Hernán’s head on his chest, and talked. When it was time to dress for dinner, he showed Hernán his marbled bathroom.

  Hernán stepped out of his clothes and paused, looking at his bare feet resting on the floor. “It’s warm,” he said flatly.

  “Oh good,” Colin said. “A maid thought to turn on the radiant heat in the floor. The marble gets chilly otherwise. Towel racks are heated, too.”

  “Of course they are,” Hernán said, shaking his head. “I didn’t know people actually live like this.”

  “Oh shit, if this bothers you, then you’re really going to hate the rest of the house. On the lower level, there’s a huge wine room for Dad, a home theater, a game room my nephews and niece have claimed entirely, an indoor putting green…”

  “Shut up,” Hernán said with a laugh. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Hand to God. I’ll show you after dinner.”

  At six-thirty, Colin led Hernán back downstairs and to the parlor. “We can see the rest of the place later, if you want. That is, if you’re still speaking to me after dinner with my parents and Katherine.”

  In the parlor, Mom had changed to a more typical outfit, a soft blue sweater and tailored wool slacks. His father stood by the bar in one corner, pouring a sherry for his wife and a scotch for himself.

  He was as tall as Colin, sturdy and well-groomed, with blue-gray eyes. His thick, iron-colored hair was styled in the same way he’d worn it for decades, and his red cashmere sweater over a white shirt was the trademark “casual look” the publicists had created for him.

  He glanced up when Colin and Hernán entered. “Son, good to see you. Can I make you travelers a drink?”

  Colin brought Hernán over and introduced them. “Jim Felton, this is Hernán.” They shook, and Colin said, “I’ll take a vodka tonic, if you’re pouring.”

  “Of course,” Dad said, reaching for the Grey Goose. “Hernán? The same?” Hernán nodded.

  Taking their drinks over to one pair of facing sofas, Colin sank back into the cushions while Hernán stayed perched on the edge, as if about to bolt.

  Mom said to Dad, “Jim, Hernán speaks five languages.”

  Hernán muttered, “I’m only fluent in four.”

  “Only four,” Dad chuckled. “That’s remarkable. What do you do, Hernán?”

  Colin jumped in. “Hernán’s working with me at the Initiative for now. He gives language classes and does some translation. He saved my neck this week.” With that, he launched into a description of the lobbying visit. He described the way Hernán had gotten Sabeen comfortable, the great job all his team members did, and how great Maryanne’s leadership had been.

  Hernán looked at him, puzzled. Colin wasn’t sure why.

  Before he could ask, Dad said, “I’m glad you’ve stuck with the nonprofit, Colin. Usually you’d have given up by now.” Colin felt his face begin to burn. To Hernán, Dad chortled slightly, “Colin tried all kinds of things as a kid, but nothing really kept his attention. He didn’t want to play sports, or join activities. He didn’t even want to go to Yale or work in the family business. I really worried he’d never find something to hold his attention.”

  “Dear,” Mom said, resting a hand on Dad’s arm. “You know Colin loves his aviation. He’s always been committed to that.” She asked, “Hernán, how do you like going up with my son?”

  Hernán sipped his drink and wet his lips. “I like it. Colin has so much passion for flying that I feel completely safe with him.”

  Jim smiled. “Passion isn’t a word we usually use for Colin. Is it, Son? But yes, Hernán. My father flew in World War II and kept it up ever after. He took Colin flying as soon as Margaret would let him. Colin, remember when he wanted you to join the Air Force?”

  “I still think I would have liked it,” Colin said quietly into his cocktail.

  “Oh no,” Mom laughed lightly. “I can’t imagine any of my children living in barracks or whatever they have in the military. You like your comforts! Bad enough when you ended up with that little apartment in Berkley. Dear, do you remember how small that place was?” she asked her husband.

  “I don’t know why you wouldn’t just let us buy you a nice house out there. It would have been a good investment, too, the way real estate has continued to soar.”

  Colin was spared the need to answer when his sister arrived. Katherine looked more like their father than their mother. Only thirty-one, she carried herself with gravity Colin associated with much older people. She wore slacks and a blouse with a few pieces of African jewelry Colin recalled her Kenyan husband giving her over the years.

  He rose and kissed her cheek before introducing Hernán. Dad fetched her a glass of white wine and she sat on the sofa between Mom and Dad. Before she could start in with qu
izzing Hernán in that aggressive manner she had, Colin decided to divert her attention.

  “I hear Alhaadi is off camping with the brood,” he said. “Where did they go?”

  The ploy worked. Katherine loved to talk about her children, and quite willingly described the “camp” her husband had taken them to, which sounded as far from camping as Colin could imagine. He didn’t need to say much, though, which was a plus.

  Hernán was very quiet as well, watching the interactions between Mom, Dad and Katherine while occasionally shooting a puzzled glance toward Colin.

  They sat down to dinner in the breakfast room, where the round table certainly seemed more welcoming than the enormous affair in the dining room. It would also be less overwhelming to Hernán. He caught Mom’s eye and mouthed his thanks; she winked at him.

  After Mom and Katherine were seated, Colin held a chair for Hernán next to his own. Rosie came in almost immediately with a soup to begin the meal.

  Halfway through the fish course, Dad said, “Colin, I meant to tell you. Do you remember Michael Salvio, the head of our government affairs department? Well, he recently moved on to take a position with the U.S Trade Representative. That leaves us with an opening.”

  Katherine spoke up, “You’d be good at that, Colin. Even the experience you got at your little charity will help, since you already know your way around Capitol Hill.”

  Colin flushed and stared at his Dover sole. “I’m happy with the Immigration Initiative. You know that.”

  Mom gave a pretty laugh. “Well, of course you are, darling. But is that really what you see yourself doing with the rest of your life? You’re almost thirty, love. When are you going to be ready to take a real job?”

  “He has a real job.”

  Colin’s head jerked up, surprised at Hernán’s words and at the edge he heard.

  “Colin is influencing Congressional policy on immigration,” Hernán continued. “I was lucky enough to see him in action. He’s very good.”

 

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