Not apologize.
Not I was wrong.
Not You are my daughter.
His first request was financial.
“What are you offering?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re bargaining with your father?”
“No.
You’re bargaining with an investor.
You made it very clear this morning which relationship you preferred.”
Carol flinched.
Dad lowered his voice.
“I can have the portrait changed.”
For a moment I genuinely didn’t understand him.
Then I did.
He thought the problem was still the picture.
“Changed how?”
“You can be in it.”
Blake looked away.
Sloane closed her eyes.
Even Carol seemed embarrassed for him.
I picked up the envelope and returned the pages to it.
“I flew three thousand miles because you told me I was still your daughter.”
His face softened just slightly, sensing something he could use.
I continued.
“I don’t need a place in a photograph you offered me after checking the cost of excluding me.”
The softness disappeared.
By noon, the photographer was gone.
The mimosas had warmed untouched.
Dad moved into his office with two phones and closed the door.
Through the walls we could occasionally hear his voice rise, then drop, then rise again.
Carol stayed at the dining table reading every page.
I went to the porch.
Sloane followed me several minutes later.
She stood beside the railing without looking at me.
“I should have said something.”
“Yes.”
She swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed she meant it.
That did not erase the silence, but it was more than anyone else had offered.
Blake came outside later.
His apology was clumsier.
He admitted he had assumed I knew Carol wanted a photograph with only her children and that Dad would arrange another one later.
“You heard him say he was going to lie to me,” I said.
Blake nodded.
“I did.”
“And you let him.”
Another nod.
There was nothing useful to add.
By midafternoon, Martin called.
The company’s lawyers had acknowledged the notice.
Dad had not found a technical defect that could make it disappear.
He would have time under the agreement to satisfy the redemption, but not the indefinite extensions he had apparently been counting on.
The company had begun contacting financing sources.
“They’ll survive,” Martin said.
