Chapter 72

It felt strange to be showing up at my parents' house. Dad had invited me, but I felt like an intruder. This was still my mother's house and she made it very clear she didn't want me there.

I was led to the library, a room I had not been in for a very long time. My father was already seated with a book in his lap. He looked so calm sitting there. It was odd to see him doing nothing except reading. I couldn't remember the last time I saw him relaxing. It was good. He deserved the chance to sit back and breathe without my mother squawking at him about family disgraces.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

I couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia as memories from my childhood flooded back. I smiled up at the second floor, recalling the countless hours I had spent up there as a boy, peering down through the railings at my father below. He would be lost in the pages of a book while the fire crackled in the fireplace. He knew I was in the library and didn't shoo me away. His only rule was not to mess anything up or be loud. I was allowed to roam around the library and look at any book I wanted. I remembered that rule changed when I came across Lady Chatterley's Lover. That shocked the hell out of my twelve-year-old self.

"It looks good in here," I said. "You got new rugs."

"I did. I got new chairs as well."

"It still smells the same," I said with a smile.

He chuckled. "I've been using one of those air things that's supposed to suck the cigar smoke out of the room. Is it working?"

I sniffed a couple of times. "Mostly. The smell of books and furniture polish is still pretty strong. And leather."

"They say leather never goes out of style," Dad said, rubbing his fingers over the worn leather of the book in his lap. He had passed his love of reading down to me, and I couldn't imagine life without a good book in hand.

"Yeah, it seems to be holding up well in the library too." I shifted in my seat, the armchair creaking.

"I'm thinking about adding another bookshelf," he said.

"You still have some space," I said.

"I just bought some new ones." He grinned. "There was an online auction over in London. Some old lady passed away and her family was selling her private library. I went a little wild."

I laughed. "It's a good investment."

This room had always held a special place in my heart, particularly during Christmas, when it would come alive with twinkling lights and festive decorations. Back then, our family had been happy. Back then, before I broke the law and landed in prison, my mom liked me.

I remembered how she used to join us in the library, curling up at my father's feet with her head resting against his thigh as they both lost themselves in the pages of whatever book they were reading. I remembered my dad would absently play with her hair. They had been so young and so in love back then. Even Murray would hang out in the library. He would inevitably fall asleep on the plush rug in front of the fire, while I would sit on the second floor, feeling like the luckiest boy in the world to have such a warm and loving family. I loved looking down on them. Back then, I felt safe. Content. Like nothing bad could ever happen.

But somewhere along the way, things had gone awry. The warmth and happiness that had once filled this room seemed like a distant memory now. Mom had grown to loathe the library. She always complained it stank and it was outdated. She wanted to make it into a ballroom for entertaining. Maybe that was when the fights between my parents started. I couldn't really say for sure. It just kind of happened one day. The loving, doting couple just drifted apart.

"What's going on?" I asked my father. "You said you wanted to talk to me."

"I do." He nodded and closed the book. He put it on the side table.

He looked older. He seemed smaller somehow, more vulnerable. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the realization of how much he had aged in my absence. Even when I got out of prison, I didn't see him much. We had lost years.

"I'm sorry for the time we lost ever since you were arrested," he began, his words heavy with regret.

It was like he was reading my mind. "It's okay," I said.

"No, it's not. I regret how I abandoned you, how I didn't stand behind you when you needed me most, and how I failed to help you navigate the world when you were released. I stayed away. We abandoned you."

His admission was difficult to hear. I knew he had regrets. As did I. "You didn't abandon me," I said. "I was a big boy. I made bad decisions, and I paid the price. It wasn't up to you to fix me."

"It is my biggest shame," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I keep wondering if things would have been different if we talked more back then. Maybe I could have guided you away from the gambling."

"That was my choice," I told him. "I wouldn't have told you what I was doing."

"But I should have been more involved. I'm sorry. I was always so busy with the business, I lost track of what was important."

"It's okay, Dad," I assured him. "I forgive you."

"I'm proud of you, Gene," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "Despite my own shortcomings, you've grown into a remarkable man. You're a pillar of virtue, and I couldn't be prouder of the person you've become."

"I don't know if I'm that." I chuckled. "But I am trying to be better. I don't ever want to be a disappointment again. I want to live up to the high standards you guys set for me. I slipped, but I'm going to spend every day trying not to let it happen again."

"You've made me very proud," he said. "Lots of people can toe the line. I think it's a strong man that can fall down and get back up."

"Thank you, Dad," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. "I never thought I'd hear you say those things."

He smiled. "I should have said them sooner." His eyes reflected a mixture of regret and pride. "But I'm saying them now, and that's what matters."

"It means a lot," I said. "Thank you."

"I called you here to tell you I'm officially retiring at the end of this year," he announced. "We have about six months to prepare you to step into the role alongside Murray. If that's what you still want, of course."

I nodded, my heart racing with the possibilities that lay before me. "I do," I replied without hesitation. "I'm ready for it."

"It's a big job," he said.

"I know. I'm ready to settle down. I have Mary Ellen to take care of, and a future family to provide for. This is exactly what I want."

My father's smile widened, a glint of pride shining in his eyes. "Is that so?"

I couldn't resist showing him my surprise for Mary Ellen. I reached into my pocket and withdrew the small ring box. I opened it up and revealed the stunning engagement ring inside. I had picked it up earlier that morning, knowing that this moment was the perfect opportunity to share my intentions with my father.

He smiled. "Congratulations."

"I haven't asked her yet," I said, laughing.

"Maybe there will be grandchildren in the near future."

"How are things going here?" I asked him. "Have you and Mom talked?"

He sighed. "Not really. We have sought therapy to try and work through the issues that have plagued our marriage for so long."

"Oh?" I asked with surprise. "I didn't know this had been an ongoing thing."

"Oh yeah." He nodded. "We're seeing the therapist not just to work through our own issues, but to help your mother work through her anger. She's so mad."

"Why?" I asked. "Me?"

He sighed again. "No, her anger comes from her own feelings of insecurity and inadequacy. She's been consumed by the need to maintain the fa?ade of a perfect family. It started when you guys were younger, but it just got worse as the years went by. When everything started to crumble around her, she got angrier. She couldn't control everything. She had this image in her mind. She wanted to make sure everyone that looked at our family saw her carefully constructed image of the perfect family."

I listened in silence, empathy tugging at my heart for the woman who had once been the cornerstone of our family.

"Me," I said with a nod.

"It wasn't you?—"

"It was," I insisted. "I can take it. I know I made a mistake."

"She surrounded herself with shallow people, and when you were convicted, they turned on her. She started to spiral, but that's her fault. I never liked a lot of those people. She was the one that decided we had to be perfect."

"Her friends were bitches," I muttered.

He glanced at me, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Well, life has a funny way of bringing out a person's true nature. But at the end of the day, she needs to get past this. Both for her and our family's sake."

I nodded in agreement, feeling bad for my mother's struggle. I couldn't blame her for wanting to protect our family's image. But maybe it was time for her to realize nobody was perfect. All those friends of hers were lying as well. They weren't perfect. Hell, I happened to know some of their kids and they were into worse shit than gambling.

"I don't know what the future holds for us," he said. "Or for you and her. But be patient, Gene. She might come around yet. The last time I saw her, she did seem contrite. I think she wants to do better. It's not easy to change overnight. She's spent a long time becoming who she is. Now, her whole reason for living has changed."

I nodded with understanding. I could be patient. I could wait for her to find her way back to us, if that was what she needed. If not, that was her choice as well. Her opinion of me wasn't as important as it once was.

"Dad, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about," I said.

"What is it?" he asked, reaching into a drawer and pulling out his cigar box. "Want one?"

I put up my hand. "No thanks."

I watched as he went through the usual routine of cutting and lighting it. "What's on your mind?"

"It's an investment," I started. "With a very low likelihood of return."

He chuckled. "Sounds like a winner."

I grinned and started to tell him about my idea. I knew it was crazy, but I was hoping he would at least give me a chance.

When I left the family mansion, I was feeling pretty damn good about life. I had been at what I hoped was my lowest low and now I was ready to enjoy the high.