Jean tuned out the rest of the self-pity spiral. When Mr. Pike paused to draw in a shuddering breath, she tried to pump the brakes. “Maybe it’s not the end of the world. Sometimes a shitty turn of events can open new possibilities.”
“Like a breakup leading you to an amazing physical and spiritual connection you can’t get out of your head,” Adriana suggested.
“Or realizing you only think you want to murder someone because you’re actually obsessed with them,” Jean said. Charlie’s whole body jerked when he realized she was talking about him.
“And getting a chance to tell someone that you never meant you were settling for them because they’refirstbest. Not second. Themostbest person ever, as far as you’re concerned.” Charlie hoped that that was enough superlatives to get his point across to Jean.
“And I will finally have time to enjoy my yacht,” Mr. Koenig volunteered.
“Do you hear that, dear?” Mrs. Pike cupped a hand to her ear. “He’s going sailing! I’ve always wanted to take a river cruise.”
“Have you ever seen moonlight on the Danube?” Euro Daddyreplied. All he needed was a rose between his teeth to complete the effect.
“I haven’t.” Mrs. Pike gave a girlish giggle. “How big is your yacht?”
That got her husband’s attention. “Sandy!”
“What? I’m sure he has room for both of us.”
Mr. Pike sagged in his chair. “We can’t just walk away.”
“I’m tired. You’re tired. Charlie wants to go to grad school.” His wife shrugged. “We had a great run.”
Mr. Pike’s mouth fell open. “But who am I if there’s no Pike’s?”
One of the random tidbits Jean remembered from her college Intro to Psych class was that babies were easy to mess with because as soon as you moved a toy out of sight, they assumed it no longer existed. Maybe that was how men thought about their jobs. Or at least men like Charlie’s father.
“Think of it more like shedding a skin,” Charlie said, stroking Snake Emma. “Maybe Pike’s isn’t ending so much as taking on a new form. Instead of beer, we could make herbal elixirs.”
“Are you talking about pot, son?” Mr. Pike looked aghast.
“No, Dad. Mugsy’s teas.” He gestured at Mugsy, who had been startled out of her resting Don’t Try Me face. “Maybe it’s our turn to support her. We have the equipment, the network… all that stuff.”
Mugsy shook her head. “I’m not ready, Charlie.”
“You won’t know until you try.”
Jean could tell from his tone that Charlie was parroting back advice his former babysitter had given him, probably more than once.
“I’ll invest in you,” he assured her, excitement giving way to a frown. “Most of my money is tied up in company stock, but I could transfer my shares to you!”
Her scowl returned in full force. “I’m not taking your inheritance, Charlie.”
“Consider it a loan. Or a rental. How much money do you have on you?”
“About ten bucks,” she said, like that settled it.
“Great.” Charlie looked around the room. “Anyone have change for a ten?”
“Do you take Venmo?” Adriana asked Mugsy. “I’d love to invest in your company.”
Human Emma cleared her throat. “Perhaps you’d prefer a partner with industry experience?”
Charlie glanced between them, clearly not wanting to get in the middle. (Unlike Jean, who hoped the soap opera would play on.) “My advisor thinks I can get a fellowship. For grad school. Tuition and a stipend. I don’t need much more than that.”
“Because you’re a superstar,” Jean told him, enjoying the resulting blush.
“Anintellectualsuperstar,” Emma Koenig pointed out. “Which is the preferable kind.”
