On the counter, his medicine is in three containers. Each is labeled with large letters. I doubt Balthazar needs shit dumbed down to this level, but Lizzy Anne doesn’t want him dying on her off days. Or she doesn’t want him calling her when she’s at home and ruining her weekends.
I sit in the spare chair and ask how he’s doing. Balthazar only shrugs and pets his cat. He’s like a bitchy teenager these days. He grumbles, shrugs, rolls his eyes, and gives me shit constantly. I wonder if this is typical behavior for old people or if Balthazar is just using his last years on the planet to give people a hard time.
“Has Candy been coming by?” I ask when he ignores me to watch his show.
“Every day. She and Lizzy Anne don’t like each other.”
“How do you figure?”
“Lizzy Anne said she doesn’t like Candy, and Candy flipped off Lizzy Anne when she thought no one was looking. I was looking, though. I’m always looking.”
“I’m not paying her to like Lizzy Anne. I’m paying her to check on you.”
“She does.”
Balthazar doesn’t say anything else, and I watch the show with him for a few minutes.
“What do you think of Candy?”
“She’s a looker.”
“Anything else?”
“She’s taller than Lizzy Anne.”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh loudly so he’ll pay fucking attention.
“I’m dating Candy.” I say and then pause to wonder if hotel fucks count as dating. “We’re seeing each other, so I wanted to know what you thought of her.”
“I suspected you’d sleep with her.”
“Why’s that?”
“I told you. She’s a looker.”
I nod and consider leaving. Rather than give up on this father and son bullshitting session, I try again.
“She has two kids.”
“Oh, you don’t want any of that. I’ve seen on TV what happens when mothers and kids get new men around,” Dad says with a knowing nod. “Never goes well.”
“It’s a package deal. If I want Candy, I have to deal with her kids.”
“Good luck then. Won’t end well. I’ve seen it on TV.”
“Not everything on TV is real.”
“Enough of it is.”
I think about Candy and immediately crave her touch. I want to hear her voice, see her smile, and taste her body. She’s got me feeling like a fucking fool inside.
“Even if she and I don’t stay together, I think she’d be a good candidate for giving me an heir.”
Balthazar gives me a side glance. “What do you want one for?”
“Don’t you want a grandchild?”
“No. Your mother wanted one. I don’t like children. They steal and never flush.”
Frowning at him, I ignore his dig at me for waiting too long to have kids.
“I never stole from you, and I always flushed.”
“Yes, but you were a weird kid. Most kids steal and never flush.”
“Candy’s kids are well behaved.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” he says conspiratorially.
Frustrated, I stand up. “I don’t know why I came here for advice.”
“You don’t want advice. I gave you some, and you got your panties in a bunch. You want an ass pat. I’m too old to pat your ass, Gussie.”
“Well, all right then. This was a good talk.”
“Don’t pout just because I don’t see why you’d want an heir. You don’t like kids, and yours won’t live up to your expectations.”
“I worked hard to make my money,” I say, wanting someone to agree with me since I’m always right. “I want to leave my businesses to someone.”
“Like I said, your kid won’t live up to your expectations. You’ll want it to be like you, but no one is like you. “
I think back to my childhood and suspect Balthazar’s correct about me being outside the norm. At ten, I started a lemonade stand with a neighbor girl. We made okay money, but I decided our profits were taking a hit from the competition down the street. My solution was to threaten the other kids into shutting down their stand. Once they folded, my business doubled its profits.
I’d never considered that kind of thing was weird. My business partner did eventually quit, saying I wasn’t any fun.
Even if I was strange and my kid turned out normal, I didn’t see an alternative to having an heir.
“I’d rather burn my businesses to the ground than have the government take my shit when I die.”
“Then burn them. Of course, you probably won’t know when you’re going to die. Few people do.”
Irritated by his rational yet annoying responses, I walk to the door. “Have a good night. I’ll come by in a few days.”
“Good to see you.”
Balthazar is already focused on the TV before I open the door. He has no time for me anymore. He was a decent father when I was growing up. Even when I got taller than him and looked like another man, Balthazar Hayes did right by me. More likely he was doing right by the woman he loved. Once Mom died, he stopped pretending as much. He once told me “an old man doesn’t have time for lies.”
Balthazar isn’t wrong about why I came. I did want him to pat my ass and say life was about easy choices. I could have Candy and deal with her kids and still be me. I might even have a kid of my own and leave my empire to someone I trusted. I could have everything I wanted without any downsides.
Yeah, talk about an unearned ass pat.
TWENTY SIX - CANDY