That Which Was Home

June 5. Somewhere over Nebraska.

“You sure you don’t want a snack?” Tiffany says, waving the bag of Sour Patch Kids that she’s just retrieved from the pantry.

I look out of of the plane window, staring down at the fields of corn flying by, and shake my head.

“Family dinner’s in less than three hours,” I say. “I’ve been saving up stomach space for the meal for the last two days. What do you think they’re serving tonight?”

“Something good,” Tiffany says, popping one of the candies into her mouth. Her face puckers a bit as the sourness hits her, and then she pops another one into her mouth. “It’s always something good.”

“You’re no help,” I laugh.

I stick out my hand, and Tiffany drops a candy into my palm. I chew down on it, keeping a straight face as the sugar and sourness swirls around my mouth, and then I turn my attention back to my laptop. I fire off the last email I was working on (perks of flying on a private jet? Free in-plane wifi) and pull up the AMA. It’s time to review my scores before I dive into this dinner.

Warren Najbreit, Score: -1000 (as Markus), 24 (as Claude) (+24)

Sofia Najbreit, Score: -150 (as Markus), 7 (as Claude) (+7)

Salome Najbreit, Score: -200 (as Markus), 6 (as Claude) (+6)

Hyerim Najbreit, Score: -250 (as Markus), 22 (as Claude) (+22)

Kara Najbreit, Score: -250 (as Markus), 24 (as Claude) (+24)

Madeleine Najbreit, Score: -200 (as Markus), 15 (as Claude) (+15)

Jessica Najbreit, Score: 2 (as Markus), 5 (as Claude) (+5)

Claire Najbreit, Score: 64 (as Markus and Claude) (+264/+30)

Erin Najbreit, Score: 87 (as Markus and Claude) (+2)

Holly Najbreit, Score: -150 (as Markus), 9 (as Claude) (+9)

Scarlet Najbreit, Score: 55 (as Markus), -1 (as Claude) (-1)

Tiffany Najbreit, Score: 100 (as Markus and Claude) (25 Spillover Points) (+22)

Amanda Najbreit, Score: -200 (as Markus), 24 (as Claude) (+43)

Elianne Najbreit, Score: -150 (as Markus), 27 (as Claude) (+27)

I’ve managed to make some inroads with most in my family with my Claude identity, giving me a good foundation to work off of. The variation in the scores is something that I take note of. My score with Scarlet’s gone down because, as much as she might keep up appearances as one of Father’s few supporters in the non-profit sector, I know she hates that she has to do so.

But it’s Mandy’s swing in points that really catches my attention. Where did that forty-three come from? I thought she hated me, but this change suggests something different…

I spend much of the rest of the flight musing on the upcoming dinner and how I should approach it. This is my chance to make a good first impression with Father, and I can’t stress just how important that is.

We spend a good ten minutes hanging out at the airstrip after landing, waiting for our ride to arrive. We’re out somewhere in rural Connecticut, maybe a twenty-something minute drive away from the Najbreit Estate. All I’ve got with me is a long cardboard box tucked under my arm—we’re only here for the night.

“Sorry, the car’s usually waiting here before we land,” Tiffany says. “I know how impolite this must seem, keeping you waiting when you’re the important guest tonight and all…”

“Could be a power play,” I say, glancing at her. “Something to put me in my place before I get too full of myself.”

Tiffany frowns, just as a custom built Rolls-Royce comes roaring down the road. It’s silver and striking, a study in craftsmanship, and it purrs to a smooth stop by us. The tinted window slides down and I see Mandy at the driver’s seat, wearing a plunging red dress and blasting Wagner through the speakers.

“I didn’t know you were the family chauffeur too,” I quip, opening up the back door for Tiffany to get in.

“Only when the best and brightest are in town,” she replies casually, leaning an arm out the window as she floors the gas the instant my foot leaves the pavement.

Tiffany yelps, grabbing onto me, and I manage to get myself entirely into the car, almost dropping my box outside, and then I slam the door shut with more **** than is necessary.

“Really, Mandy?” Tiffany exclaims.

“We’re running late,” Mandy says. “Father doesn’t like that. Dinner’s due to start in fifteen.”

“That’s your fault,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Blame the cops,” she says. “They thought I was speeding, so there was a whole affair. I told them to run my plate, see if they might change their mind. It didn’t, so I had to go and find this…”

She waves her laminated ‘Courtesy Card’ at us with her right hand.

“You’ve got a get-out-of-jail card for the cops?” I mutter in disbelief.

It’s not real disbelief, but I am still jealous inside—I’d never gotten myself one of those.

“Perks of being in the family,” Mandy says drolly. “Maybe you should be like me, Claude, and give joining it a shot. Oh wait. That’s what you’re already doing.”

Tiffany stares at her, open-mouthed in shock.

“I see you, Tiff, you know that’s what he’s here to do,” she says, adjusting the rearview mirror to look into Tiffany’s eye. “He might seem nice on the outside, but nobody shacks up with the Najbreits because of their golden heart.”

“Give Tiffany some credit, she’s smart enough to have figured that out on her own,” I say, leaning back into the leather-backed seat. “She’s just shocked that you’re being such an ass about it.”

A smile spreads across Mandy’s face.

“Good, you’ve come ready to play tonight,” she says, adjusting the mirror to look at me now. “You’re going to need to stay sharp.”

“You were just testing him?” Tiffany says, furrowing her brow.

“The two of us were just having fun, weren’t we?” Mandy says, winking at me.

“You need help if that’s your idea of fun,” I respond.

Mandy laughs at that, gunning the accelerator harder as she banks around a turn, and then, seemingly bursting out of nowhere, the front gates of the Najbreit Estate loom before us. The heavy black gates barely screech open in time, our car flying through the narrow gap available, and Tiffany flinches, cursing under her breath.

“I hate it when you drive,” she mutters.

“You just don’t know how to take risks,” Mandy retorts as we speed past gold-crusted fountains and carefully maintained gardens.

I stay silent, taking in the scenery. This place looks like it hasn’t aged a day since I left it, and I’m soon lost in the days of my youth, remembering how I used to climb that red oak to hide from Father’s lectures, play hide-and-seek in that corner of the woods with Kara and Maddie and Jessica, splash in that fountain to cool off after a long summer’s day…

“The view’s not that impressive,” Mandy says as she stops in front of the house that I once called home. “I’ve been pushing Father to remodel the estate, but he’s a man who’s set in his ways.”

“I like the way that it looks right now,” Tiffany says.

“She’s a thing of beauty, isn’t she,” I agree softly.