Chapter 77

Ira

Iknow something is terribly wrong when I pick up my phone and see a dozen harried messages from Kathleen.

There's a gathering behind me. My father, his friends, some of my male friends, a bunch of fraternity bullshit we Mathisons have been sucked into since my grandfather's time. About once or twice a year, the boys of the exclusive Beta Kappa Phi meet up to talk about the good ol' days of drinking too much and waking up to find a bevy of women in our beds.

You know, typical male bonding that I'm somehow conned into even though I'm the exact sort of person many of them are talking about "conquering."

Today's bonding isn't what you normally find behind these curtains, however. When I showed up today, I found my father halfway drunk and telling two friends about the horrible way he and Stephanie finally had to break up.

She's closer to my age than any of us thought. Close enough to say she's older than me.

Also, she has a kid that she conveniently never mentioned to anyone.

And something about an old and dead husband conveniently targeted for his money.

I mean, the horror story continues.

Here I am, laughing into my expensive beer, wishing I could tell my father I told you so. Yet somehow I doubt that's why Kathleen is killing my phone. Well, it has to do with the paper, but not for the reason I thought.

Apparently, a little birdie has been talking about Kathleen and me.

"At least one of us is having a good day for love," my father says, nearly slurring. He never slurs unless he's depressed and drinking at the same time.

"Were you really in love with Stephanie?" I counter.

To the tune of "you old dog" and "she's still a hot young piece of ass to me" from his buddies, my father rubs the top of his graying head and says, "That's beside the point. No man likes being lied to like that."

"I heard that a private investigator fucked her up," says my friend Eddie. He was my best friend back when we both joined Greek Life, him in the legacy frat and me in their sister sorority in the days before queers like me got a choice. Real party animal back in the day, bringing home the kind of girls who would go with him until he passed out drunk and then made their way to me. "Followed her for weeks, invaded her hometown, and made life hell for everyone involved until they started spilling her secrets. She had charmed a good number of the men in that town into staying quiet."

The others nod sagely. Eddie further reveals that he knows this factoid because he used the same private investigator for a business dealing a few months ago.

"Same one your mother uses, Ira," he says, laughing.

My father hears this. "That weasel little fuck? He followed me around during the divorce. I would come home and find him going through the garbage and cornering my employees. I… fuck!' He leaps up, knocking over someone's beer and stumbling into a table. "Carolyn did this!"

Now I really am laughing. My mother would. She's as vindictive in love as she is greedy for money. Bless her.

Of course, my father doesn't think this is so funny. I kind of feel sorry for him. He says it wasn't love with Stephanie, but he stuck with her longer than he has any of his previous girlfriends, and he's taking this breakup hard. If my father were your average rich guy and not the patriarch of an old money company, he'd probably still let Stephanie suck him dry. As his kid, I should support him, or at least try to make him feel better. As someone sick of Stephanie's shit, however, fuck that.

Donovan Mathison is, at this very moment, raging around the room, screaming about how he's going to teach that woman a lesson while his old frat buddies try to get him to calm down and let it go. Easier said than done when you're as drunk as he is.

"You got what you deserved, Donovan!"

The rabble quiets down. The young hotel man who was overseeing our gathering is pushed out of the doorway, overtaken by a menopausal woman dressed in fur to make herself look three times bigger than she is. Her heels also make her five inches taller.

My father trips over a couch and falls to his knees. "What have I done to deserve this torture? God."

Three men try to help him back up while the others crowd around my mother. Filial love prompts me to push to the front of the pack and put myself between her and them. They won't try anything funny, but I won't stand to have one of them touch her.

Although she's as stupid as my dad right now.

"Look at you. Always been a sniveling man who gets excited over anything with smooth skin and big eyes. Some things never change, do they, Donovan?"

"What are you doing?" I hiss, trying to shield my mother from the people surrounding us.

"Oh, Ira." She clasps her hand over my mouth as if I'm five and saying bad words. "You're too young to understand." Thanks. "Your father needs reminding that I'm the original young tart around here."

She tosses a stole over her shoulder and kicks her foot in my father's direction. "Thirty years ago my boss walked into my office and told me he had a nice present for me. Go ahead. Guess what it was."

I groan.

"Then ten months later I've got a ring and this ray of sunshine in my life." Her hand drops from my mouth and flits at the men around her. "Donovan Mathison, you may think you're the only slick willy around here, but I'll have you know that your ex-wife has learned a thing or two in her years. You may have cheated on me once or twice during our marriage…"

"You cheated on me too, Carolyn!'

"Shush, I'm talking." My mother approaches Eddie, patting his cheek and smiling like a tigress about to rip apart a cornered gazelle. Eddie looks like he can't choose between being flattered and scared half to death. "When my ex-husband said he had a present for me, it's not like I didn't know what that meant. I wasn't some sheltered preacher's daughter. I applied for that position because I knew he would pay well. In more ways than one."

Joy. My mother finally admits to being a gold digger. I come from impressive stock.

"That's why I know danger when I see it, Donovan. I wasn't about to let that woman make a fool out of you. You were already doing that by taking our child's girlfriend."

"Now…" my father begins.

"…She wasn't my girlfriend," I finish.

"Stephanie May was a mess that needed cleaning up. I was going to let you stew in your stupidity, Donovan, but when I found out about some other things she was up to, I decided to intervene. It also reminded me that…" Her face softens, much to my father's confusion. As she approaches him, slowly, each stiletto clicking on the marble tiles, Dad brushes off another piece of dust. "For the love of God, Donovan, I still love you and won't let a woman nowhere near as good as me take what's mine."

The quiet is enough to make me wretch.

"You're an idiot. You chase any tail you think you can buy with all your money. You smell like dog food after you've had too much to drink." My mother sniffs. "Like now. That's rude, Donovan."

"Like you're any better…"

"Oh, I'm no saint, but at least I admit my shortcomings." With a mighty sigh, my mother dangles her hand in front of my father's face. "How about we let bygones be bygones?"

I'm not sure what I'm watching as my father lets out a frustrated cry and grabs my mother's hand, pulling her down to his level and muttering shit that makes her laugh. I'm either watching my parents get back together, or I'm watching the opening to a ritualistic sacrifice.

Let's be real. One would lead to the other very quickly.