“It doesn’t matter what they’re trying to do. It’s meaningless. None of it will bring him back. None of it will make this ritual anything but torture. Why do I have to say hello to all of these fucking people? I don’t know half of them. They probably work for some company he owned that I never even heard of. And Charlie, fucking Charlie who owns a bar, for goodness sake, won’t let me have a drink. Not one drop to take the edge off,” he said in bitter disbelief.
Jack dropped his head into his hands.
“I love you,” she said, her hand on his shoulder, solicitous.
“You’ve already said you love each other,” Joe said. “Whoa. I have missed some serious shit. Good for you two. I mean apart from the sad occasion.”
“Right. Whatever, Joe. At least you’re honest and you’re not weeping all over yourself about how my dad bought you a diet Pepsi once and it changed your life.”
“Did someone really say that to you?” he asked.
“No. I was being facetious but it’s pretty close to some things I’ve heard. And it’s all supposed to matter, like they act like they’re giving me back pieces of my father. Like he’s scattered. I lost him somehow and they’ve come generously to bring me a crumb of what’s left.”
Jack pushed away from the table with both hands and set off after Charlie without another word.
“Did you hear Joe?” Britt asked. “See? This is why Jack shouldn’t have said anything. Now he has to deal with that on top of his father’s death.”
“He’s a mess,” Marj said. “Not thinking straight.”
“No shit,” Britt said, then pointed to a group of suits. “Now he’s being swallowed up by the tycoon brigade. Probably coworkers or other old rich guys who went to—”
“Rich white guy college with Fitzsimmons? Yeah, probably. Let’s go.”
Britt said goodbye to Jack and he said he’d call her in a little while when things calmed down.
Marj and Britt separated at their cars and Britt went home to an empty apartment. She was so sad, there was no denying it. She was upset about her boss’s death. She would’ve stayed but Jack had told her he wanted some time by himself to spend time with his dad’s friends and share memories. Charlie would look out for him.
Chapter 9
Britt called Jack and got his voicemail so she left a message.
“Jack, give me a call when you get the chance. I miss you.”
Still, she heard nothing back from him.
It was the day of his father’s funeral and maybe he didn’t have the time or energy to check in with her.
His brother was in town from halfway across the world and they had catching up to do.
They’d have business to take care of pertaining to Peter Fitzsimmons’ death and the execution of his estate. While she assumed such an eminent businessman would have a pretty clear-cut will, it would be harrowing for Jack to see his dad’s property divided up. She wished to wrap her arms around him and take his mind off the loss of his father, the myriad responsibilities that being his heir apparent could entail. Still, any time she called, it went straight to voicemail.
At work, Jack did not appear. No one commented on that fact because it was obvious that he’d have arrangements to make, titles and ownerships to transfer, deals to strike with his oft-absentee brother Charlie. Britt sat in the break room picking miserably at a low-fat yogurt and listening to the gossip. The management was convinced that it would be business as usual but with Jack at the helm, while Luke, Marj’s boyfriend, was sure that Jack would decamp for a free-wheeling musician’s life as soon as he could get out from under the consulting firm and the various other properties. His point was that Jack didn’t need to work financially, so why would he tie himself down with all these businesses his father built? Marj needled him about being afraid o
f commitment even if he had a fortune handed to him. After half an hour of speculation, Britt gave up and went back to her cube.
It struck her that Jack was so unresponsive. She dialed the boss’s secretary and asked if Jack had checked in.
“No, I just get voicemail when I call about something important. I think we can call this personal leave.”
“Right. Thanks,” Britt said, at least superficially reassured that he was avoiding contact with everyone, not just herself.
“And shouldn’t you know this if you’re his girlfriend?”
I glared at her. And this is exactly why I wanted to keep this office affair secret.
“He’s grieving and we’re spending some time apart,” Britt said. “And why do I have to explain this to you. Is this what it’s going to be like from now on that everyone knows.”
“It’s one of the worst decisions you can make,” she said.