“Sit down and help me create a budget and a to-do list.”
Harry squirmed and cracked his knuckles. Felix and Ella never discussed money in front of Harry, but he needed to man up and learn how to budget. The thought left Felix nauseated.
“Let’s start with Max’s home phone number so I can coordinate booking flights with his parents.”
Harry gulped loudly. “Couldn’t you just book the tickets and ask them to reimburse you?”
“No. I prefer to keep the finances separate.”
Harry gnawed on his thumb.
“I promise to be on my best upper-class Brit behavior,” Felix said. “How’s that?”
“’Kay.”
“Let’s assume the two of you can stay with your mother’s old roommate. That will help keep the cost down.”
Harry nodded.
“Do you know how to draw up a budget?”
Harry shook his head.
“It’s a simple math problem that involves listing income and expenses, and then balancing the two. Since income is irrelevant here, we’ll list your expenses, and it will be up to you to stay on target.” Felix smoothed down the first page on his pad and wrote Harry’s trip. “What’s the date of the open house?”
“February twenty-seventh.”
“I’ll call the admissions office and sign both of you up for the tour.”
“Great. That’s great, Dad. Will you be okay—I mean, you and Mom, here by yourselves? If something should happen—”
“Nothing’s going to happen.”
The concern was surprising and sweet. But sweet could only carry you so far. Sweet also meant others could take advantage of you. Was sending Harry out into the world by sanctioning this trip a horrible mistake?
“Dad, there’s a problem.”
“Only one?”
“How are we going to tell Mom? I mean, I’m sort of terrified to tell her anything that isn’t ‘I’m fine, school is fine, Sammie’s fine.’ Will she freak out—about me going on a plane by myself, although I won’t be by myself because I’ll have Max and she knows I’m not nearly as anxious if Max is with me?”
“I have no idea, Harry. I’m making everything up as I go along.”
“Does she know about you stepping down from the partnership?”
“No.” Felix wasn’t entirely sure why he’d told Harry about this when Ella was back in hospital, but after the panic attack he’d been more worried about Harry than Ella. Felix had wanted—needed—Harry to know that their lives would not spin out of control, that Felix wouldn’t let things get worse.
Someone turned up the volume on the movie in the bedroom. Music played and Eudora giggled. Katherine joined in. Felix didn’t hear Ella laugh.
“Why are we keeping stuff from her, Dad?”
Felix slumped back in his chair. “Because we’re trying to protect her?”
“Like she always protected us,” Harry said quietly.
Did he use the past tense intentionally? Felix fiddled with the family signet ring. “Do you want to sit in on a class if I can arrange it?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Harry cleared his throat several times.
“A history class, I assume?”
“Nah.”
“I thought you wanted to major in history?”
“Changed my mind. Psychology. I want to be a clinical psychologist.”
“When did this happen?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. History’s kind of useless, you know.”
“I read—majored in—history.”
“I know, Dad. But there was a different world order when you were my age, a different world economy.”
Harry had a point. Maybe his son actually did have a grand plan.
“Why psychology?”
“Why not!”
Felix sighed. So there was no grand plan.
“I think the world needs more psychologists,” Harry continued. “Good ones. I mean, you never met my first psychologist, but she redefined useless. Also, I want to help people.”
“An idealist, huh?”