Saturday’s were always spent doing the same thing. Avery was ready to break this routine. His father no longer ran the company, so they didn’t need these update sessions anymore. Avery used to enjoy them, back when he wanted to impress his father. But he’d long since outgrew that need.
Avery shifted his position in the overstuffed, winged-back chair in his father’s study.
His parents still lived in the spacious Gladwyne home, north of Philly, where he’d grown up. And he still hated his father’s office just like he did when he was twelve and had to listen to his father lecture him for traipsing through his mother’s garden.
Avery nodded as his father continued to talk. When he was in his twenties, he cherished every word of wisdom his father imparted. Now at thirty-three, he’d learned to tune him out and follow his own counsel. The Councilman loved to make speeches, even if he was only talking to one person. The lecture was always the same, the family name, dignity, and discretion. Avery could repeat the speech verbatim but endured his father’s litany anyway.
A whiff of his mother’s famous meatloaf drifted into the room. Listening to another monologue was worth the effort for a taste of a good home-cooked meal, as long as he could get the meal to go.
His father inhaled in preparation for a new barrage of the same old speech. Telling his father to stop match-making and meddling was poised on the tip of his tongue. Even though his father wasn’t fond of “I told you so’s,” Avery wanted to remind him about Monica and their ugly breakup.
“I know you have your hopes set on Celeste and me, but that’s not going to happen. I’m not interested in Celeste English. Just like I wasn’t interested in Jessica or Teresa or whatever that woman’s name was at the last dinner party you and Mom put together.”
His father dragged his glasses down his long-pointed nose and glared at him. “What do you mean? Celeste is a lovely girl. Did you see her work that room Thursday night? She’s as good at schmoozing as your mother.”
“I want more from a woman than just her ability to work a room. Or one who is only interested in her career or sleeping around, like Monica was.” Avery hurried the conversation along. The club opening was in a few hours.
“Avery, I know you think you know what you want, but life doesn’t always present us the answers in black and white.” His stocky father rose from his chair and strolled from behind his desk. Avery pressed his fingers into his tight abs. One day would his chiseled pecs turn into man-breasts like his father’s? Tomorrow morning he’d do an extra set of stomach crunches and eat one less muffin.
His father continued. “You think the most important thing right now is the next woman you’re going to spend the night with.” His father spoke slowly, in a measured tone while jingling his pocket change. The fastest way to end this conversation was to remain quiet. If he corrected his father’s impressions now, he would be here another hour. “Stop chasing women. You’re the oldest. You need to set an example for Austen and Cameron. Your brothers watch every move you make. They’ve looked up to you from the moment they were born.” His father threw his hands in the air. “Invincible. You’ve got the big firm. You’ve won some significant cases. You’re with a different woman every week. But none of that is going to be important when you get to my age. And the last thing I want this campaign season is another Malveaux tabloid headline.”
“I’ve worked hard for ten years.” Avery measured his words as he spoke. “My private life has never interfered with my work or yours.” A vision of Macy behind her desk after their confrontation clouded his vision. After the way he’d spoken to her, she might not be willing to share everything she knew about the business. Finding a way to mend fences with Macy moved to the top of his to-do list.
“You need to settle down and get married,” he paused, and Avery could predict the next words. “Celeste will make the perfect wife for you.”
“I’m not interested in a wife right now. I’m focused on expanding the firm.”
“English International and Celeste are both good opportunities.”
Avery stood up and stretched his legs. The small measure of domination he got by towering over his father made him smile. “Dad, I’m a grown man. I don’t need any help picking a woman. And I know Celeste is not the one for me. That’s not going to happen. I’m not interested in marriage. I want more from a woman than someone who can fuel your political aspirations.”
“You can say that now because you’ve never run for office. I know men who had to shelve their dreams because they married the wrong woman.” His father strode to the bar, unscrewed the cap on the Jack Daniels, and topped off his glass. “Don’t be so hasty, Son. All I’m saying is give yourself a little time. Let the relationship marinate a little longer. If Celeste is not the one, give it some…”
“Dad.” Avery’s voice was cold. “I know Roxy thinks she was doing me a favor by introducing me to her sister, but not every good deed is a favor.”
“I don’t want your pictures plastered on the society page for another ridiculous scandal. That story about you and Monica and your broken engagement, went on for weeks. It was ugly.” His father’s jowls wobbled with each word. Instead of worrying about Avery’s love life he needed to spend some time in the gym.
“If you had let me handle Monica my way, that nonsense would have never happened.” Avery raised his voice.
“You’re thirty-three-years-old.”
Avery made a grand gesture of looking at his watch. He walked to the door of his father’s study and placed his hand on the knob. “I’ll settle down when I find the right woman.”
Outside the office, he exhaled. His father needed to get off this “get married” bullshit or their Saturday morning visits would become a lot less frequent.
Avery made his way through his childhood home in search of his mother. He found her in the solarium reading a book at arm’s length. In some ways she showed her age, but there was no doubt she was still a striking woman. The fine lines around her eyes were more pronounced than they used to be, and her laugh lines stayed in place long after the laughter. But, she was still the yardstick by which he measured all women. And only when it came to looks; what he wanted was a woman with her grace and sincerity. Any man would be lucky to have his mother. He hoped his father shared his sentiment, but he doubted it. His father was too self-centered.
He greeted his mother before he bent to kiss her on the cheek she offered.
“How was your discussion with your father?” She closed her book and gave him her attention.
He sat beside her. “Pretty much as I expected.”
“You know why your father is a politician. He has a way with people.”
“Yeah, but is what he does a negotiation or a manipulation?”
“With your father, it’s a little bit of both.”