Wednesday, 4:41 pm
When I wasn't busy checking the news every thirty minutes, I spent the rest of my workday doing damage control. I had a growing number of unreturned texts and missed calls that needed to be addressed. While looking over my grandfather's collection of assets or counting money like a rich duck sounded appealing, if I wanted to keep the relationships I'd built, I needed to start whittling down the number of notifications on my phone.
I started with my dad. Well, stepdad
Henry Upton was a good man and was the only father I'd ever known. He married my mom so early in my life that it felt like I'd always known him. We were close, too. He'd taught me to ride a bike, catch a ball, and swim - all the apple pie stuff you're supposed to get from parents. He was a musician who had given up his dream of writing music for Broadway in exchange for helping provide for a family by writing music for ads and other small marketing gigs. It paid well enough that he'd made peace with it, but I could always tell he longed for something more fulfilling than writing catchy melodies for commercials.
I called him twice and got no response. I spent the next several few hours returning calls, starting with friends. I began with Dillon, who had called me about an hour ago. Lo and behold, he was the only one who hadn't called to ask about the money. His call had been an attempt to check on me to see how I was handling the breakup since we hadn't talked after I showed up at Strange Mudd on Friday. It shouldn't have surprised me because Dillon never kept up with the news. I filled him in on the situation and enjoyed being the one to get to break the news to someone for a change. Needless to say, he was astounded.
Very few of my other calls were as fun. An uncle I hadn't talked to in nearly five years mentioned he would be in town on business next month and wanted to take me to dinner. A great-aunt wanted to play catch-up with family news before mentioning that she would need foot surgery next month. Fortunately, I went through the calls faster than they were piling up, especially since many of them didn't answer, since it was the middle of a work day. None of my siblings answered the phone when I called. It made for quick work, which was a problem in a way. It meant that there would eventually be one person left on my list, which was the one I should have started with - my mother.
Mom was well-known in the architectural community as one of the best designers in New York. She was also known as one of the few successful black women in the space, which was a testament to her skill. Working in a space dominated by people who typically dismissed her for over two decades had made her relentless and fierce. There wasn't much she couldn't do. Sometimes, it also made her very difficult to get along with.
That was who I was currently on the phone with.
"Well it's not like you were all that forthcoming with me," I retorted. "You said the money came from a trust fund created after Dad died."
"I signed an NDA, Marcus! I couldn't tell you anything! Knowing you, you would have told your entire fourth-grade class or tried to use it to get a date with Alicia Summers! You would have ended up getting both of us into a world of trouble. That's very different from you inheriting that kind of money and going a week without saying anything to your own mother!"
"Okay, sure. I get the logic when I'm ten or fourteen, but twenty-eight? I could have gotten the message that I wasn't supposed to say anything, Mom. I'm not mad about it. I just think it's pretty hypocritical of you to blame me for not immediately phoning you about it when you're guilty of not telling me who my dad really was for 10 years of my adult life!"
"They're not the same thing," my mother retorted. "Look, I love you, sweetie. I would have told you if they hadn't insisted that our lives would be destroyed if it ever got out that you were a Gerrard."
"Who's 'they'? Who spoke to you?"
"I don't know... it was so long ago. I think it was a man who worked for your grandfather. Some big man. He was really intimidating. Had some scars on his face... some kind of thug or strong man your grandfather used to scare people, probably. It was just you and me, and I didn't know what to do. We needed the money he offered us. "
I fell silent, imagining myself in that sort of scenario - alone after the death of the father of my child, trying to work my way through school in a field that didn't appreciate my talents. I knew she had it hard before Henry came along, but on top of the intimidation and threats... it painted a desperate picture. "Okay."
"What do you mean, 'okay'?"
"I mean, I get it. Some goon scared you into signing an NDA and keeping quiet about the baby daddy. I get it."
"Don't you say it like that, young man! It was serious! I'll-"
"No, I'm being serious, mom. The things people can get done and how fast they get them done when they have enough money... it's kind of scary. They could have messed your life up completely. They could have been capable of anything. You did the right thing."
She stayed silent for several beats before finally responding. "Thank you."
My desk phone started ringing.
"Hang on, Mom," I said and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hey." It was Natalie. "I was wondering if I could come up and see you for a minute."
"Yeah! Come right up!"
I hung up the desk phone and returned to the call with my mother. "Mom, I have to go."
"Why? I've been trying to call you for days and you just now reached out. Now you have to leave and it hasn't even been five minutes?"
"It's been more than five minutes, Mom. Someone's stopping by my office, and I need to meet with them."
I heard her huff on the other end of the line. "Okay, but can you call me back? I need to talk to you about Jacob."
"Yeah. It'll be later today. I have some stuff I need to get done."
"Alright." Mom sounded low-key upset, but with Natalie on her way up to see me, I barely even noticed. "When will you be coming out to the house?"
"I don't know. I'll have to be careful when I do. Has anyone shown up out there asking questions since the story broke?"
"Someone called asking if we would be interested in doing an interview, and Henry saw some photographers when he went for his run, but other than that, not much."
"Alright. I'll call you later and we'll figure something out, so I can get over there to see you guys."
The panel built into my desk lit up, indicating someone was trying to reach this floor. I checked the screen and saw Natalie in the elevator. Erin would have let her up, but she was currently out of the office working on the tasks we'd discussed earlier. I pressed the button to give the elevator access to the top floor for this trip.
"I've gotta go. I love you, and hug Dad for me."
"Okay, cabbage. I love you."
I hung up the phone, sat down, felt awkward about her finding me sitting in my chair, and stood again. Then I grabbed one of the files that contained a list of some of my grandfather's assets and immediately opened it - it was a list of the paintings he'd collected. Moments later, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," I said, and Natalie entered, giving me one of her wide smiles.
"Hi!"
"Hey yourself," I said, throwing the file back on the desk.
I approached her and slipped my arms around her waist. She placed her hands on my chest as I pulled her into me and we immediately sought each other's lips in a sweet, gentle kiss that went on for a full minute and a half. Our tongues met and began softly caressing each other, and I almost melted when I heard her softly mewl into my mouth. We eventually parted, but I didn't let her go. She slid her hands further up my chest to rest them on each side of my neck, rubbing my jawline with her thumbs as we studied each other's eyes.
"You okay?" She asked.
"You heard?"