Page 9 of Love Marks
I slam the receiver down.
“Your mother’s on line two!” Beverly calls out. Taking a deep breath, I lift up the phone to my ear.
“Mom?”
“Oh, darling,” she sobs. “What are we going to do?”
I’m glad she’s just on the phone and not standing in front of me. I could never stand to see my mother cry. Even hearing it, my throat feels like it’s closing. I want to reach through the phone and comfort her.
Fuck.
I cough, clearing my throat.
“Everything’s going to be fine, Mom. We knew there was a risk of this.”
“The things they’re saying about your father — it’s so awful,” she cries out.
“Well…” I trail off. I want to tell her that they aren’t saying any lies, but I don’t want to make things worse. She’s never been good at confronting my father’s shortcomings, numerous as they are.
“I just—I feel like I’ve failed. As a wife…as a mother.”
I feel so tense. I need to get to the gym now. Beat a punching bag or run for six miles until I can get to work. Until I can figure out how to fix this.
“You haven’t failed and you’re not alone. Dad’s going to get better and I’m going to fix everything with the company. Don’t worry, Mom.”
I hope for her sake that my words are convincing. The truth is I have no clue what I’m doing and even less faith in my father’s ability to do anything other than think of himself.
“Oh, Wesley,” she sighs. “I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, Mom. I have to go deal with this,” I say, choking down the growing lump in my throat. I slam the receiver back down and try to stop my hand from shaking. This rage is new. I’ve never felt out of control like I do right now. I glance over at the scotch and think of my dad in this office, one scotch after another. I can’t have another glass. I can’t be like him. Where the hell is my coffee?
Just then, the door opens and Beverly sweeps in. She sets the coffee on my desk.
“The vultures are circling.”
Leaning back in my chair, I take my glasses off and rub my eyes.
“Who?”
“Forbes, Variety, Bloomberg, New York Times—”
“I got it. Fend them all off until I’ve met with George and talked to my father.”
Beverly nods and heads for the door.
“Get me my brother,” I say out to Beverly as she exits.
Might as well finish the rounds and get everyone out of the way. Besides, he’ll make me feel better, at the very least. He’s the good boy between us. It’s why he’s married with the cutest little girl in the world and I’m drinking scotch alone in my office.
“He’s on line one,” Beverly calls out to me.
When I pick up the phone, Ben immediately tells me to wait because Luna, his daughter, is pouring her yogurt all over the floor.
“Hey, sorry,” Ben says. “Jamie’s got her now. So, what do you think? Top five worst days ever? Top ten?”
“Hard to say. It’s hardly noon. Could get worse,” I reply, grabbing the stress ball off my desk and rolling it around in my palms. I squeeze it once, hard enough to destroy the atomic foundation of the ball itself.
“What the hell happened?” He asks simply.