WYATT
Mother asked that we have dinner in town before everyone departed for our own corners of the world. Preparing myself for it, I know what the conversation will be about. Of course, I agreed, because in all honesty, I couldn’t deny that it was something Dad would want us to do. Am I happy about it, or decidedly scared to be with her with no buffer? No. Food and sedatives. What could be more fun?
The ride over was probably the best part of the whole experience. I was alone in my car with no one there to bicker, taunt, or poke. Knowing these times will be few and far between, as my life is about to transform into a complete shit-show, I accepted, reluctantly.
Decidedly, neither Doll, nor I, have any races planned in the near future. We talked on the flight home, and both of us figured it was just respectful to Dad, at least for a week or two.
Whiskey didn’t give so much as a fucking day’s grace. He’s leaving tomorrow morning to attend a race in New Zealand that, in his words, would wait for no one. It’s a World Cup race that would put him in the standings for next season’s X-Games in Colorado, and I can’t really deny him because it’s something I would do too.
Walking into the venue, there’s not a soul in sight. I see that mother has had it closed for a private affair, which is for the best. A fight in public wouldn’t be what Dad would want of us.
“Wyatt, over here,” Doll calls out, wide-eyed, and visibly asking for assistance. Approaching, I see Mother sitting demurely with a scowl firmly in place, stretching into a fake smile as her teeth grind together.
Smiling tightly before taking a seat across from her, I acknowledge them all. “Mother, China, Jamieson,” I greet, kissing each of Doll’s cheeks.
She doesn’t understand why we needed today more than she did; she never has. Doll, Dad, Whiskey, and me, we’re all the same to her—daredevils, looking for the next thrill, the next chance to cheat death.
Fuck.
We have a need that’s deep within us. It’s a rush to cheat death every time we step on or into our vehicle of choice. Dad didn’t win his game with the cloaked figure, but he did everything he loved up until the moment of his death. That’s really what living is about, anyway. We’re not standing by, waiting for the Reaper to appear. We’re living every moment as if it’s the only one we have. We push it harder than she could ever imagine, and it scares her because we live outside the box.
Dinner, being exactly as I’d expected, was tense. I felt bad for the wait staff as they walked on eggshells around us. Putting the Crown family in one room, stuck with each other’s silent company was deafening. We never really had things to speak about when Dad wasn’t around; he was the glue, and I doubt we’ll speak much now after parting ways tonight.
Interrupting the quiet, Mother speaks. “As we all settle in for a nice meal, I’d like to give a toast to your father.” Raising her glass, we each do the same. “To Jaxon. To the love of my life, the father that you all adored, and to the man who touched so many. I didn’t want the spectacle today, but you each helped to make it a beautiful day for him. Thank you.”
Wow, I’m shocked. Looking at my brother and sister, we’re all just as stunned as we clink glasses to the nicest toast imaginable, especially coming from her.
Placing my drink down, I begin eating my meal. But, Mother is not quite finished. “We will need to speak about your father’s will shortly, Wyatt. Jamieson, I expect you to travel back for that day, no excuses. I will converse with your Aunt Janie to confirm there will be no conflicts in your scheduling. China, I expect your team to also adhere to these needs.” Cutting into her mackerel, I wait for what I know is inevitable.
Taking a small portion onto her fork, she goes in. “Wyatt, you will begin adjusting your schedule and correcting your position—”
“Mother, I understand what you wish, but I will be fighting this.” I feel the steam rising in my soul. I never wanted this. This was always her dream for my future. Day in and day out, I’ve fought and railed against it. I’ve pushed back as much as possible, to no avail.
Gently setting her utensils on the plate, she turns and gives me a look I know so well. A fight is about to ensue, and it’s the last thing I wish for today of all days. “Wyatt Jaxson Crown, you will do as commanded by your father and I.” She turns back to her food, as if I’ve agreed. “I will give you the weeks leading up to the adjudicated date, but after that, there will be nothing more to the matter.”
Knowing where this is going, Whiskey doesn’t pipe up at all. There’s no disagreement, no pushing the subject, and no way to win.
“For Dad,” Doll says to me as I stew inside. She’s trying to give me a reason to avoid the pressure building within, but Mother makes it hard.
Thinking about his wishes and the predicament that I’m being thrust in, I lay my napkin to the side and rise from the chair. “I’m no longer hungry. Excuse me.”
Walking to the bar, I get the bartender’s attention. “Bourbon, neat.” He pours only a finger size amount of the amber, which in no way will be enough. I motion to the bottle. “How about you just leave that here,” I tell him, downing the glass before pouring another. It goes down smoothly, and the second just as neat. As does the third, and the fourth. Before long, Mother has finished her meal and exits without a second glance at me. Doll has left with her as beckoned, and Whiskey has ventured off in search of someone to fuck.
Today was nice, up until now. Dad was honored in a way fitting for him, but now, Mother has dealt the killing blow to my soul, and I’m drowning in liquid courage. Pulling out my phone, I can only think of one person I’d like to be around right now. Texting Circe, I give her my room number at the hotel and ask that she meet me there. There’s no way I can pass through another night alone. I need more than whiskey. The alcohol isn’t going to be enough to dull my senses and remove the plight on my heart.
I’ll need her.