Page 104 of Love Marks
Last year, my father said nothing. If I had to guess, I’d say he was drunk somewhere. Maybe he forgot what day it was. Maybe he simply didn’t care.
The day is already off to a rough start when my assistant Beverly tells me she’s quitting. It’s a disappointment, but nothing I can’t handle by finding a new assistant. A pain, sure, but easily remedied.
My family knows well enough not to send me any birthday messages, so luckily my phone remains silent except for the usual emails. It’s not until I’m about to leave to pick up Quinn that my phone rings with a number that I dread to see. Still, I pick up.
“Son.”
One simple word and my spine feels as though it’s made of steel and ice. He sounds exactly the same — that gravelly, tired voice that haunts me in my worst moments.
“Dad. What a surprise. I didn’t know they let you make calls,” I say, my throat dry.
He chuckles darkly, devoid of humor. “It’s rehab, son, not prison. You might know if you ever gave your old man a visit.”
He’s angry that I didn’t show up to see him when my mom went to visit him. I was supposed to. Told my mother that I would, too. But when it came to the day, I just couldn’t get myself to give enough of a shit to drag my ass all the way upstate just to be some fake version of myself.
“Is that what this is about? My parental neglect?”
“Not quite. I wanted to call you, obviously.”
I’m quiet for a moment. He can’t be calling to wish me a happy birthday. It’s not possible. I let myself hope, for a brief moment that he’s changed—
“Your mother and I are officially getting a divorce. I thought you should hear it from me first. You know how she has a tendency to exaggerate things in her favor.”
I don’t move. The only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heartbeat, and a ringing in my ear.
I’ve known this was coming. My mother has been dating and there’s no love left between her and my father — if there ever was any to begin with. I’m happy for her, that she can get a chance to try again, to be with someone who deserves her.
I realize my father is still speaking on the other line, his sneering, pompous voice breaking through my panic.
“…of course, property issues to discuss and dividing the assets and such, so I may need your brother to look over everything before it’s finalized. I assume you can inform him.”
“Leave Ben out of it. Find another lawyer to look over your shit.”
He just chuckles again. “Alright, son. That’s all.”
I grind my teeth. “Yeah? That’s all? Nothing else you wanna say?”
“Goodbye, Wesley.”
He hangs up.
Somehow, I know that he remembers. He knows it’s my birthday. He wants me to know that he doesn’t care. Each word is deliberate. Intended to hurt me.
I feel empty. My hand reaches for my phone to call Quinn, like maybe if I could just hear her voice, I won’t feel so hollowed out inside. But I can’t shake the sense that she’s avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Is she second-guessing us? Does she want to end things?
The thought sends a painful jolt through me. Glancing at the clock, I realize I need to get going to pick Quinn up. I leave my office and run into George on the way out. He’s in much too good a mood as he follows me to the elevator bank.
“Wesley! Just the man I wanted to see.”
We step into the elevator and I’m counting the seconds until this interaction with him is over. I’ve managed to communicate mostly through third parties and assistants with George since the project construction began.
George pulls out a folder, smiling widely. “Happy Birthday, Wesley.”
I look down at his outstretched hand and take the folder from him. “What is this?”
“A while back, I found out who screwed us over with the story. Who leaked to the press. Anyway, I did the normal shit, you know, PI, ruin the life, yada yada. All the info is in there for you to do whatever you want.”
I open the folder. A photo…no, photos…of Quinn. Quinn and her mother. Her apartment. A letter to her landlord threatening legal action against her…eviction? I’m flipping through it, but none of this makes any fucking sense.