“I always did what they wanted me to, I went to school, started my political career, got elected to the senate—one of the youngest to do it by the way—and they even had a pack and an omega all picked out for me. A nice girl from an equally prestigious family,” Farrow continued, his eyes suddenly far away. “And I probably would have done it too if I hadn’t gone on that tour to the Boston Omega Center that day. Bunny was there, sitting under a tree reading a book like a painting and I was gone from the moment she looked at me with those big blue eyes of hers.”
Farrow’s smile was soft as he spoke about his wife. “She was my scent match in every way and I’d be damned if I was going to marry anyone but her. It made my mother furious and my father disappointed, but I did it and I’m proud of the family we built together.”
“So…” I trailed off, wondering what his point was in this long story or if he’d completely forgotten because he was stoned.
“So, you impatient young man, I worked my ass off for decades to prove to them that we were good enough—that Bunny and I were a team. I became Vice President of the United States which, by most parent’s metrics, would be a crowning achievement. But do you know what my mother said to me before she died?”
I shook my head.
“It was two weeks after Inauguration day and she called me to her bedside and she told me that if I hadn’t married Bunny that maybe I’d be the president instead.”
“Ouch,” the word leaked out of me before I could catch it and I blushed but Farrow just nodded knowingly.
“Ouch is right, kid. What’s worse is Bunny was also in the room. That threw us in a rough spot for a while. Now, I’m not just telling you this because I love talking about my traumatic past that I have yet to get any level of therapy for, I prefer to do this instead,” he said, holding up the joint. “But I want you to be aware of the reason why I can’t support whatever is going on between you all and my granddaughter.”
“Lennon is a public figure,” he continued, looking directly at me now. “She always will be, even after her mother leaves office. That’s just the nature of a creature like Lennon. She’s meant for greatness in some way, shape, or form. That comes with a lot of public scrutiny and that can be brutal. We Holloways are built and bred for things like that and need partners who can handle such things.”
“And was Mrs. Holloway able to handle those things?”
Farrow grinned. “Gods no, Bunny rarely leaves our farmhouse these days and she spent half of my political career neurotic as hell. That’s what I’m trying to avoid for Lennon because, like with any good marriage, I had to pick up the slack for my wife and I don’t know if Lennon can handle that.”
I stared at him, trying to digest the absolute shitstorm of information he’d just thrown my way on what basically amounted to a hunch.
“Sir, there isn’t anything going on between us and your granddaughter,” I said, carefully measuring my words.
It was partially true. Nothing had happened physically between us—which had nothing to do with what I thought and never planned to act on.
“And you, son, are full of shit.”
Hearing the old man say those words so bluntly made me gawk open-mouthed at him.
“Close your mouth, you’ll catch bugs like that and you probably want to school that expression of yours because my granddaughter is on her way over here right now,” Farrow muttered to me as he stood up and stubbed the joint out, putting it back inside of an empty mint tin.
“Grandpa, I was told to come find you for dinner…” Lennon said as she approached, her eyes landing on me. “Agent Wilson? What are you doing here?”
“I asked him to accompany me,” Farrow said, jumping in to help me out. “For security purposes.”
Lennon looked like she didn’t believe a word of it, but her delicate nose scrunched as she caught a whiff of what was in the air. “Grandpa, have you been smoking weed again? Mom’s going to be pissed at you. You know she hates it when you do that at Camp David.”
Farrow grinned at his granddaughter. “If you snitch on me, Lennie, then you’ll be snitching on grandma too because she’s the one who grew it.”
Lennon snorted and shook her head. “If the media ever caught wind of the fact that the former vice president and his wife grow weed in their house they would lose their minds.”
“Hah! If you think that’s crazy, wait until they find out about the aliens.”
Lennon frowned. “What?”
“Nothing,” Farrow called with a grin. “Now you run ahead and tell your grandma we’ll be there in a bit.”
Lennon paused, her gaze moving to me again and I gave her a small nod, letting her know I was okay. Then she whirled and began to run back through the trees, her long blonde hair whipping out behind her.
We started to walk back, me a few feet behind Farrow, making sure the older man was able to make it up the rocks and logs okay.
“One more thing, Dallas,” Farrow said, using my name for the first time since this interaction had begun as he turned to look at me.
“I may be old, but even I have eyes. You may say that nothing is going on between you and Lennon, but I know better. Ask me how I know.”
I really didn’t like being yanked around by this old man so much, but still I was curious. “How?”
