Lies and Weddings(129)
“If she had died when I was two, I would have no memories of her.”
“Probably not. But she got to have three mostly wonderful years with you.”
“And I have my memories. I have these snippets, these flashes of moments with her. I remember a small park with a giant oak tree where we used to picnic, and I’m not sure if this is from another of my dreams, but I always see her sitting in the middle of this room with huge dark paintings, very peaceful.”
“That would be the Rothko Chapel in Houston. She loved going there with you. She would meditate while you napped in the quiet of the space.” Thomas took out his phone and did a quick Google search for pictures.
Eden smiled in recognition as soon as she saw the unique chapel.
“And so I adopted you as my daughter, but your mother made me promise her two things: First, she never wanted you to know about Henry. She wanted you to grow up knowing me as your father, not some playboy who died so tragically. Then she wanted to make sure her parents and her brother, Roger, never found out about you. She felt so abandoned by her parents when she got pregnant, and she could never forgive Roger for his action—his temper and his drinking had in one fateful night ruined her life.”
“It makes me sad to think that she felt so angry toward her family that she didn’t ever want me to know them,” Eden said.
“Your mother loved you more than anything in the world. She wanted to ensure you would be able to grow up untouched by any of that history. All she ever wanted to do was keep you safe.”
The words of her mother in the underwater dream echoed in Eden’s mind. He’s keeping you safe. She let that vision sit with her for a few moments, finally understanding her mother’s words, before reaching over to clutch her father’s hand. “You kept me safe. It was always you, protecting Mum, protecting me.”
Thomas smiled at his daughter, his heart too full to speak.
Skip Notes
*1 When in Italy, it is never, ever appropriate to order a cappuccino after eleven a.m. Cappuccinos are only for breakfast; with any other meal it’s like ordering milk and cereal after dinner. (Of course, I sometimes enjoy Frosted Flakes for dinner, but don’t tell that to an Italian.)
*2 No, it’s not a musical instrument of noble birth. Italian for “noble level,” the piano nobile is the main reception room of a palazzo, and particularly in Venice these rooms would be on the second floor, as being above the ground floor would provide better views and be safely elevated from the acqua alta, or high water.
VI
ORIENTALBAR
HOTEL METROPOLE, VENICE ? THE NEXT DAY
Thomas Tong entered the dark, atmospheric bar of the Hotel Metropole,[*] his eyes taking a minute to adjust after his long walk over in the blazing sun. He soon spotted Diego San Antonio y Viscaya and Jane Carlisle huddled in conversation on one of the deep red velvet sofas in the corner.
“Did you both just fly in from LA? I could hardly believe your text when I got it!” Thomas exclaimed as he approached them.
“You rushed off yesterday like a bat out of hell,” Jane scolded.
“The mountain had to come to Muhammad,” Diego chimed in as he took a sip of his gin and tonic.
“I do apologize for bolting. I had received an urgent text from my daughter,” Thomas explained as he sank into a soft velvet chair.
Jane looked alarmed. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Much better now that I’ve had the chance to see her.”
“Glad to hear it. We have some unfinished business to discuss regarding Rene’s estate,” Diego said ominously.
Thomas sighed. “I suppose there must be a whole new nightmare to deal with as members of the executive board wrestle for control of Rene Tan Enterprises? I assume Pablo Aguilar’s the front-runner?”
Diego didn’t answer him. Instead, his voice suddenly took on a formal legal tone. “As I’m sure you are aware, Rene made us work overtime in the days and hours before his passing. Another contingency trust was created, a trust that existed primarily in the event that Luis Felipe did not survive to the age of thirty-five, when he was supposed to gain full control of the R. S. Tan Trust. Numerous clauses were created in this new trust to allow for every contingency,” Diego said.
“I’m relieved to hear that,” Thomas remarked.
Jane leaned in closer. “I personally witnessed this new trust being signed and executed the morning before Rene passed. Now, your role as the trustee of the R. S. Tan Trust has lapsed due to the beneficiary’s passing, and going forward you have been relieved of any responsibilities or obligations to the estate or the trust.”
“Thank god. I don’t wish to involve myself with any power struggles in the Philippines; I have too much on my plate over here as it is,” Thomas said a bit wearily.
“Yes, I’m sure you do. As a matter of courtesy, we wanted you to be made fully aware of the beneficiaries of the new trust, which has been named the MET Trust.” Diego took out a thick leather binder from his briefcase and handed it over ceremoniously. Thomas opened the binder and scanned the first page halfheartedly. He only really cared who was next in line to inherit the Tan billions and whether they would show more mercy toward the Greshams than Luis Felipe had. His eyes wandered down a few paragraphs before locking on to a single name. He stared up at Diego and Jane with his mouth agape. “Noooo. This can’t be real…”