“You wouldn’t know what to do if I did tell you the truth.”

“And you wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the ass.”

“Oh boy--little words from a little man.”

He was tired of the tit for tat, because their interaction had always been dysfunctional.  However, it was obvious to him that from the moment he’d arrived, Fawn had deliberately steered clear of their father.  She’d been up to no good, from the second he arrived; even now, he could see a scheme brewing behind calculating eyes.

Bolden said...

“I didn’t come here to play games.”  He threw up his hands in defeat, while saying.  “I’m leaving Fawn.  When you see our father, tell him that I’ll talk to him later...away from here”

Bo headed for the door, when he heard Fawn behind him smirkily saying...

“I told dad that it was a mistake to invite you.  You don’t have what it takes to be a member of this family.  I told him this but he overrode me--and...”

Fawn threw her hands up in the air.  She walked over to the bar, then sloshed more dark liquid in a short stubby glass.  When she noticed that Bo had not left, she stared at his back, sipped her drink, then she said...

“I’ve said all I’m going to say”

Reacting to her words, Bo turned to face her then he said...

“Hell...you haven’t said enough.  Talk Fawn,”

He said... “Why stop now...like always...you’re dying to fill me in.”

“Look--I’m just being helpful.”

Bo’s stomach curdled when he said...

“Helpful!  You haven’t been helpful a day in your life...especially when it comes to me.”

Fawn perched her back against the bar.  Her eyes were glassy, but he could sense that she was lucid and actively plotting.  But why...that’s what he couldn’t get a handle on.

Why had she been gunning for him from the second he arrived.  She didn’t do anything without having a reason; and he wondered if jealousy was her poison.

Bolden said...

“I have a life Fawn--and I’m not here to mess up yours.  Whatever dad has--I want no parts of it.  It’s all yours...yours and yours alone.”

Fawn gulped her drink when she said...

“You are such a pansy.  Whose money do you think paid for all that highfaluting education?  I guess you didn’t care whose money foot the bill--as long as the money didn’t dry up.  Hypocrite.  Fucking snob.  You’re his gotdamn son and you want nothing to do with him!  He thinks that his brilliant Bolden is so gotdamn special because you graduated from Yale and Harvard.  Well...I went to Cornell...and so what if it took me six years to graduate; point is... I graduated.  I attended that stuck up school, rubbing elbows with women who didn’t think that their shit stinks.  I did it...because that’s what he wanted.  I did it to please our father...and it still wasn’t enough.  I wasn’t enough...because I’m not like you.  I’m not his ungrateful son.”  She snorted, and during her rant, Bolden had been stunned into silence.  Now that she’d taken a breath, he injected these words.

“I thought...I thought you wanted this...I mean...our father’s legacy.  The houses the businesses...I thought that you wanted me to step aside, giving our father no other choice except to will everything to you.”

Bolden was confused but Fawn corrected him when she said...

“Do you actually think that I need you to step aside?  Do you think that’s the only way I could ever have what is due to me?  Fuck you--Fuck you--you fucking pansy!”

Like all of their other disagreements; this one was no different.  Their anger roared like a fire flamed by a fresh spray of gasoline.

Bolden pounced on her remark, like a lion poised for the kill.

“What was I thinking--you are such an ungrateful bitch.  As far as I’m concerned, you can piss off Fawn.”

Spit spewed from her mouth, mixed with liquor and a vile layer of disrespect.  Fawn hammered him, saying...

“You piss off.”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh yeah--fuck you too!”

Brother and sister were gridlocked when a baritone voice cut through the profanity laden air.

“If anyone is going to get fucked--I’ll be the one doing the fucking.”

Morpheus Gustafson’s frame filled the doorway.  Their father leveled a cool gaze, eyeing his bullheaded children; then he glowered without changing the shape of his frown.  He entered the room, crossing the threshold, then closing the door once he was inside.  He was a towering massive man with broad shoulders and a mixture of Italian and Scandinavian handsome features.  As a young man, he’d decided that monogamy didn’t suit his way of life.  This choice amounted to numerous short term relationships, and two children with two different women.  He glared at his offspring, seeing bits and pieces of their parents.  Bolden took after his mother--but Fawn had taken after him.  His daughter was hell on wheels and he was certain she’d said something to fuel this argument.  But he didn’t have time to take sides or weed through their bullshit.  New Year’s Day was supposed to be a day of new beginnings, peace, love and a whole lot of other shit that he just couldn’t think of at the moment.

An unsettling hush overtook the room.  Morpheus grunted before saying...

“Oh...so now you decide to be quiet.”

His gaze pointedly landed on the ignitor; Fawn.  He crossed the floor, choosing to sit in one of the oversized chairs.

“What in the hell is going on in here.”

Fawn smiled while saying....

“Oh...we were just talking.”

“Talking...” Morpheus said.  He glared at her and he didn’t water down the anger in his remark. “It sounded more like shouting.”

There was something about her father’s tone that wiped the smile off her face.  Fawn cleaned up her story, when she said...

“I was just telling Bo about family--you know...talking about why you’d called him--asking him to come here today, of all days.”

Morpheus showed no outer emotions.  His face was a virtual blank, giving no impression of how he felt and there were no signs hinting that he believed his daughter.  Finally, he heaved a sigh, when he said...

“Bo--is this true?  Is your sisters explanation the reason  that your voices could be heard on the other side of that closed door?”

Bolden lowered his eyes.  He looked at his hands then wondered, what was he doing?  Why was he even here?  His mother had warned him that nothing good would ever come from associating with Morpheus Gustafson.  But what son doesn’t want a real relationship with his father.  And that explained his predicament.  Yet when he lifted his eyes; seeing Fawn’s utter hatred for him--Bolden knew coming here had been a horrible mistake.  After listening to his sister, he wondered if his father was worth the trouble.

Bolden met his father’s eyes, when he said...

“Fawn said a lot of things--but...  Well, I don’t care to repeat any of it.  Actually, I think I should go.”

“Bo...”  Morpheus stared at his son, when he said...

“Stay.”  His request had been a simple one.

Bolden sighed, when he said...

“No worries dad--you’ve got this party and your guest to entertain.  As for me--we can arrange to have lunch--or maybe dinner, on another day.”

Bolden was walking towards the exit when he heard his sister say...

“Let him go dad...Bo is just being Bo.  He isn’t happy unless the world hums to his tune.”

She sipped her drink, and Bo wondered if she could get any drunker.

“If he doesn’t want to be here...let him go.  He’s a conformist.”

Bo corrected her when he said...

“You mean nonconformist.  A conformist is a person who accepts established practices. A nonconformist goes his own way, and he doesn’t accept prevailing ideas or practices.”

Fawn smirked when she said...

“Conformist...nonconformist...it all amounts to the same thing and each word can spin either way.  Bottom-line--you want to leave--so go.”