She stood up. “Gwen Ackland. Wonderful to meet you!”
I took the opportunity to study him as they small talked. My father was still handsome as ever, with his cropped white hair and perfect posture, but he looked thin—and not in a healthy way. Maybe I was overreacting? There was a chance he’d talked his chef into a new calorie-restricting meal plan.
Dad thought he’d live forever if he could control every aspect of his life. His workouts, vitamins, sleep patterns, and diet were all calibrated to keep him in peak form. Losing my mom had jump-started a new focus on his health, and while he’d given up smoking years before, he’d only recently managed to kick his Cuban cigar habit.
Still, I didn’t love how pale he looked.
“Therehe is,” my dad said when he finally managed to stop chatting with Gwen. “Good to see you, son.”
I stood up and reached out my hand, our standard greeting in public, but he pulled me into a back-slapping hug. I pulled back, a little dazed.
“Where should I sit? Is here okay?”
He pointed to the chair opposite me.
“Uh, sure, wherever is comfortable.”
My dad settled into it and glanced between us. “This works.”
Perfect. Now I had to try to get things done knowing he’d be watching my every move.
“Who’s up there?” He pointed toward the cockpit.
I was reminded of my offer to Kevin. I hoped we’d both made the right decision.
“It’s Dan Fielding,” I answered.
“Okay, good,” he nodded. “I’ve flown with him before. Excellent pilot.”
Of course he had to weigh in like he’d hired the man himself.
“Mr. Ashford, what brought you to New York?” Gwen asked.
True to form, she was in discovery mode, and this time I appreciated it. Maybe he’d givehera straight answer.
“Please call me Oliver. It was just boring meetings that aren’t worthy of another thought,” he said, waving his hand through the air like he was trying to clear smoke. “I’d rather talk aboutyou. Tell me everything, Gwen Ackland.”
So we’d be getting this side of him. The charming, cocktail party version of the man who was so different from the quiet, distant father I was used to. Our relationship would always be awkward, like we were remote colleagues forced into the same room for the first time. I leaned back to watch the Oliver Ashford show.
Gwen laughed. “What do you want to know?”
“I’m sure you’re all business-ed out, so tell me how you relax. What do you do to unwind when you’re not fixing the headlines about my son?”
“Oh, wait a minute, I take no credit for the shift in the narrative,” she replied, flicking her eyes to me. “I mean, sure, the concept was mine, but the execution was all Harrison. He really sold it!”
I appreciated her effort to turn the praise onto me, but I knew my dad would roll over it like a speedbump.
“Yes, it was a fantastic performance,” he said, allowing a glance in my direction. “But back toyou, Gwen.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was flirting with her. Ididknow better though. Mom was basically the only woman in the world to my dad. Even now, years after she was gone. I think a lot of people had assumed he’d immediately rush into another relationship. That after decades of marriage, he wouldn’t be comfortable being alone.
For months, there was breathless speculation in the gossip columns whenever he was seen interacting with any unmarried woman between the ages of eighteen and sixty. But nothing ever came of it, to the surprise of everyone in the world except for my brothers and me.
“What do I like to do?” Gwen repeated. “I bake. Bread, cakes, cookies, pies…you name it. In fact, my sourdough starter will be ready this weekend, so I’ll be up to my ears in bread. Want some?”
Oliver chuckled. “What I wouldn’t do for some warm sourdough! Unfortunately, I gave up bread a while back, so enjoy it for me. Maybe this guy will take some?” He pointed at me. “I’ve never seen him refuse food.”
He laughed at the ongoing family joke that had never been funny. For whatever reason, a single episode of me eating an entire pizza when I was in high school had turned into the narrative that I was the biggest eater of the three sons. It didn’t matter that I worked out even more than my brothers did. They still never missed the chance to kid about me being a glutton.
