“Cute, Dustin.” Dad stood. “You know what I mean. You think I’ll allow you to walk away from this chance? After all we’ve done in preparation. After all I’ve done for you?”
I noticed Kayla squeeze my brother’s hand as he started to stand. He remained seated.
Our father noticed as well. “Oh, I see. Switching one master for another.”
Kayla’s voice was also calm. “No, Vincent. I have no desire to control Dustin, but I will protect my family from you.”
Dustin spoke before Dad could reply. “As will I. I’m not running for office, Dad. And I’m done with you controlling my life. And this will not be the last time I speak to Randall.”
“You will be running for office. You’re making the announcement in a matter of weeks.” Dustin started to speak, but Dad cut him off. “And make no mistake, should you not, you will be disowned as swiftly as Randall. And unlike your brother, I know how accustomed to money you and yourwifetruly are. You wouldn’t even be able to afford your home without the allowance I give you.”
“I won’t, Dad.” Dustin looked over at Kayla. “I think it’s about time to downsize, don’t you?”
Kayla nodded. “I do. Even if the kitchen has linoleum.”
Dustin grimaced, and it wasn’t for show. “I don’t think we’ll have to go that low. I make quite enough to afford marble.”
Dad took a step toward us, but he trembled slightly. Having not seen him for so many weeks highlighted how old he really was. “And you think I don’t have the power to affect your employment, Dustin?”
Dustin glanced over at me and lifted his brows. I nodded, though it was earlier than we’d planned. But nothing had gone according to plan. He looked back at Dad and then stood. Kayla and I stood up beside him. “Feel free to try, Father. But in fair play, you should know that we have mounds of evidence of what you’ve been trying to do to Randall. Come after me or any of us, that all goes public.” Dustin’s smile broadened, and he stood taller. He looked younger and more handsome than I could remember. “Oh, and we don’t want your money. You should leave it all to charity. Maybe half to prevent human trafficking in Randall’s name. That was a good idea on your part. And the other half to cancer research in honor of my mother. Her name was Sarah, in case you’ve forgotten. But use her maiden name. I doubt she would want to be remembered as a Morgan either.”
Dustin looked over at me, letting me know it was time to walk out. I hesitated a moment. Trying to decide if there was anything left I needed to say. I was certain it would be the last time I’d see my father, probably my mother too. Dad didn’t meet my eyes, but Mom did. Finally. Her eyes were cold, firm. I think I saw some hurt in their depths, but maybe I was seeing what I hoped to find.
There was nothing left to say.
I led the three of us out of the room.
As we reached the hallway, Kayla turned and addressed my mom. “Oh, Maureen, I thought you might like to know. I’ve got a hair appointment this afternoon. I’m getting the pink put back in. Let me know if you need my stylist’s number. You could use an update.” She spun back around, intentionally making her blonde hair fly out behind her. She leaned into Dustin, whispering, “Sorry, I know that was bitchy, but I couldn’t resist.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I READthe Local section of theSeattle Weeklyover Noah’s shoulder. At the top of the text was a snapshot of Dustin and me that Kayla took with my camera two days earlier. Every so often, Noah grunted as he read something he appreciated.
First I’d like to thank theSeattle Timesfor their willingness to publish this letter. I also want to thank my fellow Seattleites for taking the time to read more about the Morgan family. I fear we have used up too much of our allotted space. And I think we are all ready to have someone else step into the spotlight.
There has been much talk about my family in recent months. The drama around my younger brother and speculation around my own upcoming announcement of political ambition.
I will address the concerns dealing with me first. I will not be seeking political office of any nature. I plan to keep my position at Amazon, as I find it quite fulfilling. More importantly, I will be focusing on my family, as my wife and I contemplate giving our daughter a sibling. Sounds like too much to consider while at the same time trying to chase politics. I’m sure you can agree.
Secondly, in regards to the concerns around Randall Morgan’s photography career, let me put those to rest. To make a long story short, and as free from as much drama as possible, let me just say we have learned defying our father comes with repercussions. He seems to believe tearing apart his own family is an acceptable consequence when he is not obeyed. I will leave it at that, and only add this: there is no one my wife and I trust more with our own child than my brother.
In case you are looking for a massage therapist, I hate to disappoint, but my brother has retired from that line of work. However, if a photographer of exceptional skills is what you seek, the Travazza family has kindly offered an example of Randall’s latest work.
Thank you for your time, and I truly do hope this is the final installment in the public Morgan Family Drama.
With much sincerity,
Dustin Vincent Morgan
Noah tapped the picture below the article. “That really is a stunning photograph of the Travazza family. That should help you get clients.”
I slipped my arms around his neck, careful not to speak too loudly in his ear. “Yeah. We thought we might as well kill two birds, you know?”
“I’ve got to say, Dustin really laid it all out on the line.” Twisting, Noah looked up at me. “You’re not worried about your father retaliating?”
I shook my head. “No. Not with all the stuff Kayla’s investigator gave us. It’s more than enough proof. We’d not planned on making any of this public. Not unless Dad started up again. This was Dustin’s idea. He thought being proactive and taking the first step would discourage Dad from trying something else to get back at us. Or at least discredit him if he does.”
Noah shook his head. “I love you, but I had no idea I was splicing myself into a soap opera. I feel like we’re on an episode ofTheYoung and the Restlessor something.”
