Page 149 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

PETER

“ Y ou want to bring a girl to meet Dad?” Mike asked flatly. His hair was a wild mess after he’d roughed it up with his towel, and all he had on were his boxers. He’d just gotten out of the shower and he smelled like pine and lemons. “Why?”

“Because she’s important to me.”

“So you want to expose her to Dad? Half the time, he’s going on about fighting in Vietnam.

” Mike blinked at me expectantly with his hands splayed at his sides.

“He never fought in Vietnam! The closest he ever got to real battle was marrying Mom, and she had the good sense to bail when we were young and he still had his mind.”

“It doesn’t matter where his mind is.”

“You say that now,” Mike said as he paced around the living room.

I assumed he was looking for his pants, but there was no way to know with my little brother.

“Just wait until he starts telling her all about our childhood. Or about the brother he never had. Or about how his mother used to fill his pockets with flour when he was a kid and send him off to school. You haven’t forgotten that he’s a raving lunatic, have you?

You’ve only been gone a couple of weeks. ”

“I haven’t forgotten. And he’s not a raving lunatic. He’s sick.”

“Same, same.”

“Not really though.”

Mike shrugged and let out a victory cry when he found his jeans and T-shirt. I doubted they were clean, but I didn’t much care.

“Call her then,” Mike said. “If you want to expose her to the crazy that is our family, I won’t stop you.”

“Every family is crazy.”

“I suppose,” he said dismissively as he pulled his shirt over his head.

I sighed and moved out through the front door to stand on the cracked pavement of the driveway. I called Katie and half expected her not to answer. Chances were high she’d gone off to do something with her friends. Or perhaps she was lounging by the pool relaxing.

Although I doubted it.

Katie answered after the third ring. “Peter! Hi, sorry, give me two seconds. I’m in an art gallery. I just want to step outside.”

I waited.

“There we go,” she said. I could hear traffic in the background. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything is fine,” I assured her. “You’re at an art gallery?”

“Yep. Rick knows a guy who runs a gallery. It’s full of all his own artwork. He’s pretty talented. I didn’t want him to hear me say that. His ego is about as big as the El Cartana.”

I chuckled. “That big, hey?”

“Yep, I doubt the guy knows what the word ‘humble’ means.”

“God forbid an artist makes it big in this world,” I said sarcastically.

She scoffed with the heir of a middle-aged socialite who’d inherited all her riches from her daddy. “I know. The poor sure are thriving these days. Hasn’t anyone told the artists that they belong in the streets where they can find their inspiration?”

I grinned. “You should buy one of his paintings.”

“I don’t think you quite understand how big of a deal he is, Peter. There weren’t price tags on anything. I asked Rick what the going rate of one canvas was. Guess how much?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Fifteen hundred?”

“Way higher.”

“Five grand?”

“Not even close, champ.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. All the bitterness that had seeped into me after walking into my father’s old house had completely disappeared now that I was talking to my girl. “I don’t know, ten grand? Throw me a bone, Katie.”

“Try thirty.”

“Thousand?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah, and that’s just the starting price! His pictures are insane, Peter. Like absolutely insane. I can’t believe it. I feel extremely poor just looking at them. I swear the paint he uses smells like Gucci.”

“So his large ego is earned, then?”

“Definitely.” Katie apologized to a stranger on the sidewalk. The line got muffled and I suspected she was moving down the sidewalk away from traffic. When she spoke into the line, her voice was clearer than before. “So what’s going on? Are you done already?”

“Not quite,” I said. “I’ve collected my brother and am on my way to see my dad shortly.

He lives in an assisted living home. I was wondering.

” Just ask her, man. She’s not going to say no.

You’re getting too in your head about this.

“I was hoping you would be up to the idea of meeting him in person.”

“Your dad?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” She sounded hopeful and more like I’d invited her to a carnival than a senior’s home. “You actually want me to meet him?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Come pick me up. I’ll text you the gallery address.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

I couldn’t fight the smile that stretched my cheeks. “Nothing, I’ll see you soon.”

Mike spent the entire drive to the gallery expressing his concern over my life decisions while he sipped on his second energy drink of the day. This was classic Mike. He treated himself and his surroundings like shit but preached to those around him about how much better they should be.

I took it all with a grain of salt. Nothing he said could get on my nerves this morning because of Katie’s unabashed willingness to meet my old man. I hadn’t expected her answer to make me so happy, but I felt like I could jump over the moon if I got a good running start at it.

We came around a corner at a busy intersection. I spotted Katie standing in front of the gallery in a pair of flip-flops, a floral-printed dress, and a knit cardigan.

Mike whistled. “Whoa, look at that babe, bro! She’s got an ass that won’t quit.”

I jabbed him in the shoulder with my fist.

“Ow!” Mike massaged the spot I’d just punched. “What the hell was that for?”

I pulled over. “That was Katie. Now get in the back seat.”

His eyes widened with surprise. “ That was Katie?”

“Yes.”

“No way, bro. No way! She’s way out of your league.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you? Because you’re sitting here in your khakis, and that chick is out there looking like a snack.”

The back door opened and Katie poked her head into my rental car. She grinned. “Hi, you must be Mike. I’m Katie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Mike’s head moved on a swivel as he looked from her to me. “And here I’ve been spending my entire life thinking you were a loser.”

I forced a fake smile. “Thanks, Mike. That’s real nice. Now get in the back seat.”

Mike didn’t put up more of a fight after that.

He clambered out of the passenger seat and held the door open for Katie.

She paused to give him a hug, during which he stood like a dumb frozen deer with his arms hanging at his sides.

When she released him, he collapsed in the back seat and watched as she buckled up and greeted me with a kiss.

“So,” she said, “what do I need to know about your dad before I meet him?”

The home smelled like breath mints and a dentist office.

The carpets were emerald green and thin and indented with tracks from wheelchairs charting the same path day in and day out.

We wiped our feet on the mat at the front door and approached the check-in desk, where I immediately recognized the dark-haired woman eating a granola bar and flipping through a magazine.

She glanced up and smiled when she saw me. “Peter Stenley. You made it! And you brought your brother. Michael, how are you?”

“It’s Mike,” my brother corrected her.

“Uh huh,” Tiff said with mock sweetness. She’d never been much of a fan of my brother and I couldn’t blame her. He was the definition of shit running down hill. “And who is this?”

Katie held out her hand. “I’m Katie. I’m Peter’s friend.”

Tiff shook her hand and flashed me a knowing look.

“Nice to meet you, Katie. Come along, you three. Mr. Stenley has had an excellent morning. You couldn’t have picked a better time to drop in.

He was up early this morning, ate a full breakfast, and took a walk through the park with a few of the others.

He’s been very lucid today. The exercise helps. ”

Katie reached down and took my hand as we made our way down the wide corridors of the facility. We passed several elderly folks, all of whom Katie waved and said hello to. Most responded with smiles of their own. Some just watched us pass.

“This place smells like desperation and off-brand soda,” Mike grumbled behind us.

“Shut up, Mike.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Well don’t,” I said.

Katie hid her smile and didn’t say a word about our foolish antics. Tiff stopped outside of my father’s door and knocked three times. There was no answer, so she held up a finger and asked us to wait while she made sure my father was decent.

There was something unsettling about having to wait, but we waited nonetheless.

When Tiff returned, she gave us the stamp of approval to go inside. I went in first, followed by Katie and my brother, and we found ourselves in a dimly lit room that smelled like tobacco, leather, and my father’s shaving cream. It was nostalgic and new all at once.

My father sat in a chair by the open window. A gentle breeze blew in, gently tugging at the few strands of white hair still clinging to his mostly bald head. He turned and greeted us with a smile, and his voice trembled when he spoke.

“My boys. It’s good to see you. Come, sit, sit.”

“Hey, Dad,” I said. I went to him, leaned over, and gave him a hug.

He was more frail than I ever remembered him being, and he was wearing an argyle vest—a piece of clothing he’d once made me promise I would rip off of him and burn if he ever got old enough to be caught wearing one.

The memory made me smile as I thought about how he would react if he had all his faculties and was aware of his ensemble.

“It’s good to see you, too. I’ve missed you. ”

My father pointed at me with a trembling finger. “I tell these losers in here every day about my sons and they tell me I ain’t got any sons. Well now who’s laughing? Huh?”

“Not those losers,” I said.

“Damn straight!” He bellowed impressively for a man with such small lung capacity. “Damn straight.”