One for the Money

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated,” he says. “I came here to interrogate you. What’s this about you and Eva Morelli? You’re engaged?”

Christ. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about it.”

“Ya think? I’m not even sure the engagement is legal if I haven’t met her. Isn’t she supposed to ask for your father’s hand in marriage? Since Dad can’t do it, I’ll stand in. I have lots of questions to ask her.”

“Very funny. And engagements aren’t legal.”

“Engagements are the path to legality, my friend. Marriage is forever.”

Marriage is not forever. It’s until I turn into a pumpkin. Then there’s just an intelligent, generous, loving woman trapped with me. “My relationship with Eva is…complicated.”

“That’s what you call fuck buddies, Finn. Not your fiancée.”

I groan at the reminder that I need to have an apparently very late talk about the birds and the bees with him. Since when does he use the term fuck buddies? He’s growing up too fast at that boarding school. He didn’t want to go, but Mom thought it would be best. She said that growing up around my dad would be too depressing.

She doesn’t think I should live with him either.

The nurses handle his main care. The bathing and feeding. The daily walks for exercise. Sometimes they read to him or help with puzzles. Maybe it doesn’t matter that I’m here most evenings. Or that I come home early and soothe him when he’s in distress. But I can’t help but think that if there’s a chance that he’s in there, if there’s a part of him that’s glad I’m here, then it’s worth it. It doesn’t escape my notice that I’m denying myself the same comfort I give him. There’s some irony in that, I suppose.

“You know my feelings about marriage,” I say.

Hemingway nods.

“And my feelings on children.”

“Mhmmm,” he says, drawing out the sound. Waiting for an explanation.

“My ideas about those things haven’t changed.”

“This is going to be a real surprise to the woman you proposed to.”

It’s impossible to explain what came over me at the Morelli family dinner. She was standing in the intersection of their lives, keeping them each from imploding. And I couldn’t take it. I needed them to leave her the fuck alone. Or better yet, focus on what they could do for her. So I’d made up the lie. It was impulsive. Stupid. And strangely addictive.

Some perverse impulse inside me likes the lie.

“It’s fake,” I admit, blowing out a breath. “A fake relationship. A fake engagement. A way to get her family off her back. We enjoy each other’s company. We respect each other. But we aren’t really dating. And the truth is we aren’t really engaged.”

“Wow.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Who would I tell? My friends are back at Pembroke Prep.”

There’s bitterness in his voice.

Perhaps I’ve been expecting Hemingway to fend for himself during this absence. I check in on him a few times a day, and I’ve been working from home more to be accessible, but that’s not the same thing as parenting. That’s not the same thing as guidance. All the more reason not to become a father. I’m already a shitty older brother.

I’ve been distracted by Eva Morelli.

I set the book of poetry aside. “I can make a call to the dean. He’s digging in his heels because he’s a…” A homophobic asshole, to be specific. It’s not the sex in the bathroom that bothers him as much as that it was between two boys. “I’ll make him see reason.”

Money or threats. Those are the two things that make the world go round.

“Or,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “Maybe you could move back home.”

His eyebrows lift. “Really?”

“Only if you want to. I know it’s probably more fun hanging out with boys your own age rather than me and dad. Our idea of a good time is meatloaf night.”

He frowns. Looks away. Hesitates.

His nervousness shimmers in the air.

“Hem?”

“I really want to live at home.” The words spill out in a rush, as if they’ve been pent up too long. “Everyone else does. They just drive in every day. It’s only like forty-five minutes.”

“I hadn’t realized it bothered you.”

He looks at me like I’m insane. “The only other kids who have to board are like foreign royalty, where their parents want them educated in the States but they have to stay in their home country. Or because their families hate them. That’s what people assume about me.”

Fuck. “That’s not why you’re boarding there.”

An eye roll. “Because I’ll be depressed if I live with my dad. Then why can’t I live with her and travel the country, if she’s that concerned about me? The actor in the new Batman movie, his kid goes to Pembroke, and she gets remote work when they travel.”

It’s a good point. “Okay. You can come back and live here if you want. I’ll handle Mom.”