Page 118 of In Harmony

I tried to keep calm but couldn’t help myself. “Wow, Dad. A giant, multi-billion-dollar company smashing its fist on the little guy. You must be proud.”

I rose to go but my dad caught my arm.

“Hey. First, you don’t talk to me like that,” he said, his voice hard. “Second, it’s something I want you to think about. How bad choices lead to situations like this. No one forced Charles Pearce to drink his business—which is a piece of my business—into the ground. In this world, who you associate with says more about you than anything else. And in this town, who you associate with is a reflection of this family. Remember that.”

He let me go and twenty minutes later, my parents headed out the door.

My mother kissed my cheek. “Be good,” she said, then whispered in my ear. “Please.”

My father looked back from the front door. “I want to remind you, Willow, that your mother and I trust you. And to break that trust would be a serious violation of our relationship. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, Dad,” I said, rubbing my arm. “Loud and clear.”

Isaac

“First dress rehearsal tonight, boys?” Brenda Ford asked, joining Martin and me at the table with a plate of rolls. I dug the Fords’ kitchen. Especially the eclectic jumble of art on the walls: small town Americana mixed with African tribal masks from their honeymoon in the Congo.

“First of many,” I said.

“Nervous?” she asked. “Martin, you look like you’re the one who’s going to be on stage for four hours.”

“I’m on for one and that’s plenty,” Martin said. He helped himself to fried okra and gestured at me with the spoon. “This one, as usual, is cool as a cucumber.”

“You’re awful quiet, Isaac,” Brenda said. She glanced between her husband and me. “Is this part of your process?”

I blinked and came around. “What? No.” My thoughts couldn’t have been further from Hamlet. “I’m thinking of staying. In Harmony.”

Martin’s fork fell to his plate with a clank. “Say again?”

“Or coming back, I guess.”

They both stared.

“I have to leave to make some money but then…” I nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to come back.”

“Here?” Martin said, touching a fingertip to the table. “You’re going to come back and live here?”

“Yeah. Not here in your house, but… Yeah, I’ll come back.”

“I just… I mean, you’ve always…” Martin laughed a little as he sat back in his chair. “You know, I was dreading opening night. I know those agents are going to snatch you up and I figured I’d never see you again. Not unless I showed up at your movie premier.” He sat up straighter. “Speaking of which, the casting agent coming to see you has a role he might want to put you up for in Hollywood. Big time director. Big time money.”

“Maybe that’s it then,” I said. “Maybe I get this movie, make some money to help Pops turn things around. Help you turn things around with the theater.”

A slow smile spread over Martin’s face. “And then you come back.” He clapped his hands together, shaking his head at me with an awed smile. “Fantastic.

I couldn’t be happier. And Isaac…” He huffed a shaky breath. “Helping me out with the theater—”

“Is the least I can do,” I said, meeting his eye and speaking with my own damn words. “You’ve done more for me than anyone. Both of you.” I cleared my throat. “I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“Well now,” Brenda said, still smiling. “Perhaps it’s not wise to spend money you don’t have yet. Not that I don’t fully believe in you, Isaac, but I thought you wanted to do Broadway. Stay on the stage?”

“I do, but Hollywood is where the big money’s at. I figure I’ll see what I can do out there. Then later, after I’m settled here, audition out east now and then.”

I thought Martin’s smile was going to spread into the next county. “That’s right, by God. Dream big. Put it out there. And what do you do with the leftovers from this Hollywood fortune?” He laughed. “Marlon Brando bought an entire island—”

“I buy Willow a house in The Cottages.”

Marty fell silent again and Brenda covered a smile with her fingers. “Willow?”