Dad’s funerary empire and rebuilding it into something that will continue to keep her in mink coats and Dom Pérignon.
But now the words are out of my mouth, hanging in the air like a dirty secret… I like the taste of them. Veterinary science. Caring for sick animals is not exactly the job for the Golden Boy of Stonehurst Prep. But maybe I’m sick of being the steady one who does what everyone else wants without making a fuss.
“Is that a degree at Yale, dear?” Mom is livid, but she won’t scold me in front of company. “Because you know that if you want to use your trust fund for college, your father and I have to approve your courses—”
“Now, Darlene, don’t you worry. Eli here is a young man; he’s got plenty of time to get his head screwed on straight about school. This is the time to follow his passion.” Nero pounds the table for emphasis. I have to save my glass from spilling. “Passion is everything in life, Eli. Passion and loyalty. Look at me. I never went to college. I followed my passions – for spinning the wheel and smiling at Lady Luck, for fine food and wine, for music, for blood and circuses – and now I’m a successful businessman.”
The phrase is actually bread and circuses. Ms. Drysdale spoke about it in her Political Studies class, how the satirist Juvenal used panem et circenses to describe how the common people let base pleasures distract them from the wider picture. I wonder if Nero’s use of blood is deliberate.
Nero raises his glass and nods at me. “You follow your passion in veterinary science and you may be surprised where you end up. You don’t worry, Darlene – smart people like Eli always come out on top.”
Seriously, who the fuck is this guy? And why is he sticking up for me?
I expect Mom to fight him. Instead, she reaches across the table and squeezes his hand. “Eli, we need to talk about the future of this family.”
I stuff a piece of broccoli in my mouth and deliberately chew while speaking. “What future? Dad’s in prison. The business is worthless. I’m leaving for college as soon as I have my diploma in my hands.”
“You’re exactly right, son. There is no future here for me.” Mom fixes me with a strange expression – part defiant, part desperate. “That’s why Nero and I are getting married.”
I choke on the broccoli, spitting it out on the tablecloth. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Manners. There’s nothing ridiculous about being in love.” Mom bats her eyelashes at Nero. “You’d know that if you ever dated.”
“It is ridiculous. You’ve known this guy a hot minute.” I drop my knife on the table. “Oh, yeah, and you’re still married to Dad.”
“Since when have you been so puritanical, son?” Mom’s fake laugh tinkles in the air like glass shards. “I’ve asked your father for a divorce.”
“And he agreed?”
“Under the circumstances, he has little choice.” She smiles then, a hint of slyness slithering through her outward charm.
I’m angry, and I don’t know why I’m angry. Dad’s in prison. He’s the one who ruined our lives by breaking the law and defrauding hundreds of grieving families. Why shouldn’t I go to veterinary school just to spite him? Why shouldn’t Mom move on?
I tell myself all these things, yet the rage simmers under my skin like a kettle boiling over. Nero’s grey eyes bore into mine, and I know what I’m feeling is that quality Nero admires so much – loyalty. As much as I hate my father for what he’s done, it’s a hatred borne of love. I’ve looked up to him my entire life. He broke something inside me the day the Feds arrested him, something that Mackenzie’s disappearance had already cracked open. For all his bluster and bombast, for all the bribes I gave to the wardens and righteous indignation he works up about his appeal, I know that prison is breaking him, and this… this will be the final nail in the coffin of Walter Hart.
Despite everything, I can’t bear to see him broken. Because if Walter Hart can’t survive in this cruel world, then what hope do I have?
“Eli, you had to know this was coming.” Mom reaches across the table to touch my hand. I jerk away. “I’m not going to wait around for fifteen years for your father to get out of prison. Your father agrees. He’s already signed the paperwork.”
“What about his appeal?”
“We’ll still go.