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Dad came in and shut the sliding wooden door. He didn’t do that unless
he didn’t want to bother Mom with the business he discussed with me.
“Gentlemen.” Dad sat behind his desk, which was also weird with
Byron here. “So, your mother is getting worse.”
Mom had Parkinson’s. Neither love nor money could control it. It didn’t
care about the power behind the Crowne name, and the thought squeezed
my lungs like balloons in a fist.
“This was completely expected,” Dad continued, totally fucking
together and calm. “It’s a degenerative disease. You boys don’t have to look
like I slapped you.”
“Shouldn’t the rest of us be here?” I asked.
“All of us have an interest,” Byron added.
“This is business,” Dad said. “Which means it’s you two.”
“Then why’s this guy here?” I asked, half joking to protect the
threatened half.
“Logan’s shutting up now so you can finish,” Byron said.
“Thank you.” Hands folded in front of him, our father directed his
attention to me. “She’s getting the best care available. We’re moving a staff
in. But…” He tapped his fingertips against one another. “She needs me.
More of me, more of the time. And I need her.”
More of Dad’s attention on Mom meant more responsibility for me.
Was he handing me the keys to the kingdom?
Had to be. That didn’t answer why Byron was there, but I was sure that
was the upshot of this conversation.
“So, first things first,” Dad continued. “We’re moving out of
Crownestead and back down to Los Angeles.”
“Why?” I asked, indicating my mother and Byron’s hugely pregnant
fiancée, Olivia, sitting at a table on the other side of the glass. Nellie, our
housekeeper and cook, poured them both more ginger lemonade. It was
sunny, peaceful, and quiet. Why move back to LA when life in Santa
Barbara was perfect? “Mom loves it here.”
“She wants to be near her children, and whatever she wants, she gets.
She has a property in mind. She saw the house. It’s easily wheelchair
accessible—when it comes to that. I suggest both of you”—he looked at
each of us before finishing—“not try to talk her out of it.”
“Fine,” I said.