1 - Dean
“Sorry for the late notice, Dean, but Jeremy’s called in sick. We need you for two-year-old twins’ birthday party tomorrow morning at 10am.”
“Saturday is supposed to be my day off, Pat,” I sigh. What was supposed to be a side job to give back to the community is turning into a massive time commitment.
“I know, buddy. Just help me out here. It’s a cash job at a nice house, it’ll pay for at least three of our non-profit events.”
“Yeah, fine. No worries. Text me the address.”
I hang up the phone and let out another sigh. I was looking forward to a day to myself tomorrow, but I can’t back out now. It’s not like I need the money, I’ve got loads of that. I met Pat at my niece’s birthday party and found out he runs a non-profit organisation for kids. I convinced him to give me a job as a children’s entertainer, since working at my father’s investment firm isn’t exactly fulfilling. When he first offered me the job I’d laughed - ‘children’s entertainer’ is just a fancy way of saying ‘clown’. I fell in love with the job right away, and now I love calling myself Clifford the Clown on the weekends.
I head to my closet and pull out the plastic dry-cleaner’s bag hanging at the back. I unzip it and make sure everything is ok. The bright yellow suit has blue polka dots all over it with big red buttons down the front. I lay it down on my bed and pull out the suitcase with the rest of my costume and props in it. There are more than enough balloons and streamers, so all I have to do is make sure all my gear is ready to go for the morning.
It’s surprisingly calming to get ready. I make sure everything is laid out for my costume and that I have enough face paint. I lay out all my balloons and games and pack them away neatly, and then I check my compressed air canister to make sure I’ll be able to make balloon animals. Everything is just about in order when my phone rings again.
This better not be Pat cancelling the gig on me, I think to myself. It wouldn’t be the first time it happens. As much as I love the guy and I respect what he’s doing, he’s not the most organised manager I’ve ever had. That’s what you get when you work for a clown, I guess.
I pick up my phone and grimace. It’s not Pat, it’s worse. It’s my mother.
“Mother,” I say as I answer the phone.
“Dean, darling, how are you?” she asks in her honey-sweet voice.
“I’m fine, mom. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. I haven’t spoken to you since the fundraiser last month.”
Yeah, that wasn’t by accident.
“I’ve been busy, mother. I’m doing this non-profit gig for the children’s foundation.”
“Of course, honey. The clown thing.” I can almost hear her waving her hand dismissively. “I just wanted to call and see if you’d spoken to Victoria lately?”
A shiver runs down my spine and I shake my head. I take a deep breath before answering and force my voice to stay even.
“Victoria and I broke up two months ago, mother. You know that.”
“I know, honey, it’s just that your father and I liked her so much. And the Erkharts have been so good to us over the years. It seems like a shame to throw away such a great relationship over some silliness.”
Silliness?! I bristle, and take another deep breath to calm myself. As usual, my mother is only thinking of herself. Never mind my heartbreak or my feelings. They wouldn’t matter to her. She only cares about the contacts that the Erkharts bring to their investment business.
“We broke up,” I repeat. “It’s over.”
“Talk to her, honey,” she says. I wish she’d stop calling me that. “They were over for dinner the other day and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She said she’s just worried about you, and she’s ready to forgive you for storming out on her.”
“SHE is ready to forgive ME?!” I almost shout. I hear a sharp intake of breath and I try my best to stay calm. Why did my mother have my ex-fiancee over for dinner anyways?? “We broke up. It’s over.”
“Talk to her, honey.”
“Stop calling me honey,” I snap.
My mother sighs. Her voice is harder when she speaks again . “You’ve caused us a world of pain with this breakup. Your union with Victoria was planned from the time you were two years old. We had millions tied into it. It’s in your best interest to reconsider.”
A chill goes down my spine and I resist the urge to fling my phone out the window.
“I think you’re mistaking YOUR best interest with MY best interest,” I spit back. Typical of my mother, I shouldn’t be surprised. “I need to get ready for work.”
“You need to get ready to put on a costume and blow up balloons, you mean,” she snarls. “When are you going to grow up and realise where you come from. The only reason you’re able to ‘give back’ is because of the sacrifices that your father and I made for you. You would have nothing without us.”
“I’d have my integrity,” I snap.
My mother snorts. “Right,” she says. “Well, go get ready for your little job then. Call Victoria.”
The phone clicks and this time I do fling it across the room. It lands on the sofa and bounces onto the floor as I put my hands against the wall and take deep breaths. I pull my arm back and smack the wall as hard as I can with my palm as a yell erupts out of me.
Why can’t she understand that Victoria and I broke up? I walked in on her with another man in our own bed and she calls it ‘silliness’?! What universe does she live in??
With another deep breath I try to calm myself down. I go back to my bedroom and zip up the plastic bag with my costume in it and lay it across the armchair in the corner. I look at the rainbow-coloured wig and the red nose in the box beside the costume and I shake my head.
What am I doing? I’m dressing up as a clown and making balloon animals on the weekends instead of putting in extra hours at the investment firm with my father. My parents tolerated the time away when I was playing by the rules, but now I can sense their patience wearing thin.
I turn back around and stomp out into the living room. The New York skyline is glittering below me and I slump down in the sofa and put my head in my hand.
As much as I hate to admit it, my mother is right. I’m living in this penthouse because of them, and I can afford to work as a children’s entertainer because of the trust fund that they set up for me. I owe them everything, but asking me to patch things up with Victoria Erkhart is just too much.
They’d never cut me off, would they? Not because I refused to marry the woman they chose for me? Surely they love me more than that?