by Alex Wolf
I nod. “Yeah, you told me you’d always be there for me. Whatever I needed. That I always had someone in my corner, no matter what.”
“Meant every word of that. And I did my best to live up to it, even after everything that happened to you, when your life was in ruin. When I got all messed up on alcohol and lost my job there, I thought I was going to drink myself to death. Didn’t think anyone would ever hire me for anything again. Didn’t think I had any purpose left in life. Suddenly, this kid that I’d made a serious promise to, who I’d hidden all my problems from out of embarrassment, to try to be some kind of a role model for him, found out about all of it. I thought you’d come and spit at me like everyone else, treat me like I was subhuman for the bad things I’d done, but you didn’t.” He points a finger at me. “You didn’t. You gave me a job at your house, so you could keep an eye on me and get me back on my feet. And I’ll never forget that, son. Ever. You may think you’re this billionaire stereotype everyone likes to denigrate on the news and scream about to make them feel better about their politics, but you are not that man. I know you think you are, but you’re not. You can scream at me a thousand times, and I’m still gonna show up, every goddamn time. So get that through your bloody big skull of yours up there protecting all them brains, okay?”
I nod, staring into his eyes. “Okay. Thanks, Orson.”
He gives me a singular nod back, as if everything is final. “All right, then. Get some rest, mate. We’ll talk soon.”
I nod. “Okay.”
I close my eyes, and my body just shuts off. It can’t take any more pain.
Meadow Carlson
I get up and walk to the kitchen at Mom’s house. It’s been two days, and I haven’t had it in me to drive to my condo. I’ve stayed here both nights. There’s something comforting about it, and I think some of it is guilt too. Like I feel maybe my mom is watching me, and I have to prove how sad I am, do all of this to show her how much I miss her. It’s irrational, devoid of logic. I know this.
She can’t see me, can’t hear me. I just want her to know how much I loved her and make up for all that time we never got.
I didn’t want to say a word to Dad, but I had to. It’s been meaningless small talk and niceties, because I’m just spent. He is too. But, there’s this tension boiling under the surface.
I know we have to have the conversation. I want to fucking know everything that happened between him and Wells, but at the same time I’m scared to find out exactly what it is. I can’t figure out if I haven’t asked him yet because I don’t want to get mad at my father all over again, or if it’s so I won’t feel any sympathy for Wells. What could possibly justify what he did though? Is there anything in this world that would justify that? I haven’t been able to think of anything, but maybe I don’t want to, and that’s why.
To Dad’s credit, he has given me as much space as possible. He knows me so damn well, and I hate that about him. He’s patient, like an expert chess player setting up a move, even if he doesn’t mean to be. It’s how he is. It’s how I am too.
He’s at the table when I walk into the kitchen, and his eyes dart up to mine, then back to the cup of coffee in front of him. Slowly, I walk over, pour myself a cup, then head over and sit down across from him at the table. I give him the look that says, okay, it’s time to tell me everything.
When his eyes come up, he just looks so—ashamed. To his credit, he doesn’t break eye contact.
He says, “I had no idea you were dating Wells Covington. I can’t believe he didn’t even ask about your last name.”
“I changed it, legally, from Mayes to Carlson.”
He nods as if he immediately accepts it, but I know how much the family name means to him, and how it ends with him since he never had any siblings or a son. “Distance yourself from me. I understand. I tainted the family name.”
“What happened, Dad?”
He lets out a sigh, like he doesn’t want to say but knows he has to. “When I was in Champagne, still a professor, he was a student in my advanced capital markets class.” Dad gets this look in his eye that’s almost nostalgic. “He was—different, as I’m sure you’re aware, if you’ve been dating him. Sometimes, you just know. And I knew he was a student that would come along once in a hundred years, if ever. Off-the-charts intelligence, he understood complex models most of the PhDs—hell, all of them—couldn’t grasp. I mentored him. He became like a son to me.”
It almost makes me want to puke the way Dad’s talking about him. Right before he started the firm, a few years prior, I noticed he became a little more distant. It sounds like I was replaced with Wells and didn’t even know it. My heart squeezes even more, knowing Dad probably hurt him as bad as he hurt me.
“Why didn’t you ever talk about him? I never once heard you say his name.”
He shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that, Meadow.”
“What was it like then? You never talked about your work. You never told me what you really did, just that you were a teacher, until you started that damn firm in the name of providing us all financial security. You know Mom and I never bought that excuse, right?”
He nods a little. “Still, it’s not what you think.”
“If you know what I’m thinking, why don’t you enlighten me.”
“I didn’t want you exposed to my work, okay? I didn’t want you anywhere near it.”
“Why the hell not? You were my father. I wanted to know what you did, what made you tick. You were my fucking hero, Dad. All I knew was you taught at a college.”
“Your mother used to yell that same thing at me.” He takes a breath, realizing he just raised his voice about her in her own home. He quickly relaxes. “I couldn’t expose you to it because it would’ve consumed you. The way it did me. I wanted you to be a little girl. And then a normal teenager. I had to protect your innocence.”
He’s right. I didn’t see that coming.
Before I can say anything else, he continues, “Our brains don’t work like everyone else’s. There are always problems and we can’t rest until they’re solved. I didn’t want you reading financial textbooks and doing advanced calculus in the fifth grade, and I didn’t want you going off to college when you were eleven. I wanted you to play with friends, and dolls, or whatever you wanted. You had your whole life to be an adult and be a genius and solve the world’s problems, but you deserved to be a normal kid first, and I was going to protect your innocence with every last molecule in my body. And I don’t regret that one bit. It was the best decision I ever made.”
I want to choke him even more now, because I think he probably did the right thing, and I want him to be wrong so I can be pissed off at him. Because of him, I actually did have somewhat of a normal childhood.
“What happened with Covington?”
“Like I said, he was like a son to me in Champagne. We would work on problems into the night. I knew he was going to do great things, but he had no use for academia. He really didn’t even need to go to college at all. He wanted to go out and conquer the world. I wanted to help him. So we started the firm. That’s the real reason I did it.”
My eyes widen. “You started that firm because of him?”
He looks away. “I didn’t know it was going to turn out the way it did.”
“Did he know you had a wife and a daughter?”
He nods. “Yes, but I wanted you two far away from the firm for legal reasons too. To protect both of you, and I just—I made a lot of mistakes, okay? I know that, and I’d give anything to do them all over.” He sighs. “Covington had the brain, but he didn’t have a name, yet. My name was respected, known throughout the world in finance and economics. My name attached to the firm gave it credibility he couldn’t have gotten on his own. I was trying to expedite the process for him. Get him access to capital to manage.”
“I still don’t understand, Dad. Two of the brightest minds in the world, and you had to fucking cheat and go to prison? Couldn’t beat the game the lega
l way?”
He shakes his head and looks away. “I can’t tell you why I did what I did. All I can say is Covington didn’t know, and when everything crashed down on the firm, and he barely escaped being in prison with me, well—that’s how you end up with what you saw at the funeral home. It took him almost a decade to start over from scratch, get anyone to trust him, earn back the respect of his peers and the public. What he’s done since is nothing short of remarkable.” He has this look in his eye like he’s still proud of Wells. A look I thought was only for me, but it turns out he hurt the man I loved the same way. What are the odds?
The man you loved?
Did you really just think that?
Yes, because it’s true.
“Tell me why you really did it,” I say through clenched teeth.
He shakes his head, pure panic on his face. “I can’t.”
“Tell. Me. Now. There’s always a reason, especially with you, and you know damn well why you did what you did.”
He looks like he might break any second. “Please, don’t make me.”
“Now, Dad.”
His hand trembles at his side as he looks in my eyes and says, “I did it for you and your mother.”
All the air leaves my lungs. “Wait? What?”
He nods. “It’s true. I could feel the firm consuming me. I was addicted to that money, but more than that, the rush, the math, the problems. The feeling when we took profits on huge gains and beat every other firm in town. I craved it so much every day, and it was steering my life. So, I cheated on a big opportunity that presented itself, so I could get our portfolio to a level comfortable for me to leave and never look back. I was just going to let Covington take the reins, and I was going to retire and come home to the two of you.”
I shake my head at him. “Bullshit. It took them a year to investigate the case, and you never came back home. You kept on going, working there. And knowing what I know now, they probably suspended your license, at the least. So you weren’t even trading, or allowed in the room to discuss trades. The fuck were you doing while Mom and I were at home? Mopping the floors? Cleaning toilets? Can’t believe Wells even let you stay there. Did you promise him you were innocent? No matter what? Cost the firm even more money to defend you, instead of taking a guilty plea? Drag everything out in the press when you could’ve minimized the damage to him and the firm?”
He drops his head in his hands. “Yes. To all of that. I know. I was weak and selfish, Meadow. And I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel an ounce of guilt from knowing you and your mother were the reason I did what I did. It was my fault. My decision.”
“Goddamn right it was.” Even as I say the words, I still know he’s telling the truth. And I do feel guilty, like us being here made him do what he did. I shouldn’t feel that way at all, I shouldn’t hurt, thinking I was part of it. It’s not rational, but human beings and feelings never are.
The same time all this is happening, I can’t help but feel bad for Wells. Should I? That’s the million-dollar question.
Maybe if he hadn’t left me at my mother’s funeral. What’s even worse is I relate to him even more now, it’s just another thing we have in common; being crushed by the man sitting across from me. It makes me nauseous, just sick to my stomach.
“I would’ve told you if I knew you were dating him. I swear on my life, Meadow.”
I stare daggers at him, but still I can’t bring myself to hate him. He’s the dumbest fucking genius I’ve ever known, but the more I process it, the more I can see how he could do what he did. “I know, Dad.”
His eyes widen a little. “You do?”
“I said I understand. Not that you’re off the hook. Fuck, why do I feel like the parent here?” I let out a long sigh. “When do you go back again?” I know when he goes back, but I ask the question just to stall a little, for time to think—process what I just told him.
“Tomorrow. I have two years left, then my lawyer thinks parole will be an option.”
“What about all the restitution and that stuff? Are the financial burdens satisfied?”
He nods. “Yeah, they gutted the assets of the firm back when it happened. All our profits took care of all that, and every investor of ours pulled their capital. It left you all with nothing. Left Covington with nothing.”
This is all so ridiculous I want to laugh. Like this can’t even be real, but it is.
“Meadow, I had a lot of time to think in prison. Think about everyone I’ve hurt. Think about my bad choices. I was weak. There are no excuses. The fact is, I just wasn’t strong enough for you, and your mother, and for Wells. I never stopped loving the two of you, though. Never. You’ll always be my little girl. I was supposed to protect you, and I failed. I’ll never stop blaming myself for that, and I’m so glad that the one thing I did right, was pick the greatest woman of all time to marry and have a child with. Because she carried this family.”
I look at him for a long time, then say, “I know, Dad. And I told you. Mom forgave you. And so did I. It doesn’t mean I trust you. I don’t know if that will ever be repaired. But I really do forgive you, and that was so hard for me to do. So hard. You can’t comprehend how difficult it was for me.”
He gets up and walks around.
I stand up as he approaches.
He wraps me in an embrace and kisses the top of my head. “Thank you.”
“You’re still my dad. You’ll always be my dad.”
He lets go and takes a step back.
I say, “So let’s make the best of it until you have to go back, okay? And then we’ll stay in touch after and work on trying to get you out in two years.” I hold out a hand, like it’s a business agreement. “Maybe we can make something positive out of this situation.”
He looks down at my hand, then nods and shakes it. “Let’s do it. Deal, kiddo.”
“Okay, I need to check my email and see if work needs me.”
He walks away as I pull out my laptop, and the first email I see is marked urgent, and it’s from Martha and John Freeport. It doesn’t look good, and I wonder if Covington sabotaged the damn thing out of anger. I’m almost positive he did.
I huff out a long sigh. This shelter is going to happen, whether Covington wants it to or not. I don’t give a shit. I made a promise to Martha and John.
I’ll have to take this thing one issue at a time, one day at a time.
Wells Covington
When I wake up, I have no idea how much time has passed. I have no idea if it’s fucking morning or evening.
What I do know is Dexter Collins and Cole Miller are sitting a few feet away, smirking their asses off right at me.
All I can do is groan the word, “Fuckers.”
“Doesn’t really pack a punch like it usually does.” Dex grins right at Cole.
Cole shakes his head. “Nope, that’s the most defeated ‘fuckers’ ever uttered by the great Wells Covington.”
My middle finger shoots up, and at the same time, I say, “What are you doing here?” I love how they can take the biggest catastrophe of my life and still maintain a sense of humor. Who could ask for better friends, right? “What happened?”
It feels like I’m waking up from a dream, and as the reality sets in, so does the dread. It’s like when you get so drunk you don’t remember what happened, but you have a vague recollection. Then you have to go to your friends and piece the night back together, memory by memory. This is even worse.
“Well, he’s alive after all.” The voice comes from across the room. Lipsy walks over. “Orson called me, gave me their numbers. Then we showed up and hovered around watching you, Danny-style.”
My eyes dart over to Lipsy. “Salem’s Lot?”
He nods.
“Fuck, that was a good one. Well played.”
Dex laughs. “He’s not lying… It was a little creepy.”
I want to be angry with Orson for calling them, but I’m not. He went above and beyond, like he always
has, and I know it’s because he cares. He’s always cared, and I’ve walked around like he was the fucking help instead of one of my best friends, and maybe the only real father figure I’ve ever had. I never gave a shit about the things he did to get himself fired. Everyone deserves redemption. I’ve treated him like he was no longer important to me, and it wasn’t fair. He took the brunt of the punishment for years, after the only other person I’ve ever trusted in my life gutted my business, wiped me down to the foundation, took everything from me, and now, he still stepped up when I needed him to.
Now, after I’d moved past it all, built something special, that asshole came back for round two and ruined something even more important to me, like it’s never enough with him. My blood starts to boil again, just thinking of his face.
“What the fuck happened, man?” Dex stands up.
I make my way up from a prone position and sit upright on the couch. I rub my temples with my fingers. Slowly, I unpack the whole story for them. Everything. From college on.
“Wait? Meadow Carlson is Meadow Mayes? Professor Mayes had a daughter?” says Dex.
My eyes widen, but I don’t even have it in me to remain angry, so I deflect with humor. “It seems so, try to keep up.”
Cole laughs. “Glad to know you’re still in there.” He gestures to me as if I’m some object that’s broken and in need of repair.
Dex tries not to laugh, but he can’t help himself.
“What the fuck is funny about this?” I glare right at him.
He shakes his head as if he’s genuinely remorseful, but he’s still smiling.
“What the hell?” Cole tries to glare at Dexter, but he’s trying not to laugh too, because this whole situation is absurd.
My shoulders eventually start to bounce because he keeps smiling like an idiot. “Just fucking say it already.”
Dex, who never met a situation where he didn’t make a joke, about to lose it, manages to say, “Just wondering if you had her tied up, you know? Whipping her in leather and shit when her dad walked in.”