002: Devastated

CARTER

"Carter? Are you still there?"

My grandmother's high-toned, querulous voice came floating over the phone.

"Yes, Grandma," I said. "I'm here."

I had gone over to the little calendar kept on my desk. I ran my fingers along the dates twice to be sure. I wasn't mistaken. Today was a Friday. Every Friday evening, without fail, my grandmother went out with several of her friends to play bingo. Grandma was a creature of habit. So, what on earth had changed her routine? Why was she demanding to see me on a Friday? What was so important and urgent enough to disrupt her routine? And most importantly, what did I have to do with it?

"I'm here," I said again.

"Then you heard what I said?"

"I did."

"Good. Remember, this evening."

"You're feeling well?" I asked.

It had just occurred to me that perhaps something was wrong with her health, although her voice was as strong as ever.

"Of course I am. What else do I pay those overpriced doctors for? Don't keep me waiting, Carter."

She rang off. I was so curious to know why she had sent for me that I left the office by five and arrived at my grandmother's mansion a few minutes before 6.

"She's in her room," said Flora, my grandmother's personal maid, who met me at the front door.

My grandmother's room was sort of a combination of a sitting room and a bedroom. Paintings, mostly from her time, adorned the walls. In the corner by the huge glass window, was a grand piano. Seated on a Queen Anne chair, which was furnished more like a throne, was my grandmother, a short, thin, white-haired woman, immaculately dressed. One would think that she was either attending or returning from a function after seeing the numerous articles of jewellery adorning her throat and fingers. The thing was, she could be this well-dressed and still decide to lounge about the house all day. With an introspective look in her eye, she was staring at a life-size portrait of her when she was about four decades younger. It was the latest installation in her room. I stood by her chair and stared at the portrait also.

"Nice portrait, gran," I said. She shrugged indifferently. "You look-"

"Very different from what I am now. I know." I was about to comment that wasn't exactly what I wanted to say when she added, "Someday, that will be you, sitting in this chair or another one, looking at a picture of a younger you, and wondering where the time had gone."

I raised a brow. She was undoubtedly in a very strange mood today. What exactly was going on? I began to wish I had thought to ask Flora before coming in.

Finally, she roused herself and glanced at the clock.

"You're early," she remarked.

"You sounded... urgent."

She shifted in her chair and offered her cheek to me, which I kissed dutifully. That ritual being dispensed with, she leaned back in her chair.

"It is urgent. Take a seat." I drew one up, placed it in front of her and sat. "I'm getting old every day, Carter. That means I'll die soon."

"But you said you were fine-"

"For now." She snapped her fingers impatiently. "But that doesn't mean I'll be around forever."

"Ah. I see. And why are we being morbid today, Grandma?"

"Because, my dear grandson, it's high time you got yourself a wife."

I let out a laugh. "A wife! Is that what you cancelled bingo for?"

"Bingo can wait," she snapped. "And this is no laughing matter. I'm dead serious about this. You have to get married so you can get children to carry on your name-"

"I'm well aware of how the cycle of life works," I said dryly.

Her voice drowned out mine. "You also have to get married if you want me to leave the company to you."

It took a few seconds for what she had said to sink in. I stared at her incredulously. She stared right back without a hint of a smile on her face to show that she was joking.

"What?"

"You heard me. I want you to get married and have children before I die. If you don't, you will be cut out of my will." Her expression softened a little when I continued to look appalled at the idea. "It's actually very simple. Just find a girl you love and ask her to marry you."

"Love? Oh, please, Grandma! I don't believe in love, that sentimental rubbish. Besides, what has falling in love got to do with the company? You and everyone else know how good I am at running the company. I can keep doing that without falling in love and getting hitched."

She gave me a pitying look. "I don't think I'll ever understand what you've got against love, Carter. Love brought you into this world, remember?"

"Oh. That's different," I said dismissively.

"How is it different?"

"Look, grandma, I'm not just cut out for that sort of thing. You can't force me to get married now, can you?"

Her weathered face hardened slightly. "I'm not forcing you. But if you'd like the company to fall into other hands..." She shrugged.

My fists clenched involuntarily. I knew who the 'other hand' was- my cousin, Ollie. He had always been jealous of my successes right from childhood. That jealousy had grown and matured as we got older. Ollie would want nothing better than to take over the company I had worked so hard for all these years. Thanks to my acute business sense, the company has grown in leaps and bounds ever since my grandmother handed the reins to me.

"Grandma. Think what you're doing," I said desperately. "Ollie is going to destroy all I've worked to build if you hand the company over to him. That company is a legacy, and Ollie's a fool. Sorry, but it's true. Fools destroy legacies. Isn't that what you always say?"

"Your cousin is not such a fool as you think, Carter. He's divorced Iris, and now he wants to marry a more successful woman. He's planning for the future, you see."

Ollie had divorced his wife? That scheming jerk certainly had something up his sleeve. I couldn't let him win. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did. I needed to be in control of that company. But how? When I looked into the steely blue eyes of my grandmother, I knew there was no other way. Some way, somehow, I needed to get a bride. Still, for the last time, I had to try. With a sigh, I leaned forward.

"Grandma. Can you please reconsider this decision of yours? I know you want what's best for me, but this isn't how to do it."

"My decision is final," she said.

I fell silent and appeared to mull over what she had said, even though I had made my decision minutes ago.

"I'll get a wife," I said tersely as I pushed to my feet.

"You have a month to get a wife. If you don't get one by then, everything will go to Ollie."

I glared at her. She met my stare with defiance. Angrily, I stormed out of the room. A month! How was I supposed to get a wife in a damn month? I was so furious I could hardly think straight. As I hurried over to my car, I decided to go to a bar and drown my troubles in booze, at least for today.