Chapter 25 - Primrose and Felix choose each other
The children’s relationship survived better than the adults’.
Felix came to the mansion one Saturday.
No suit.
Jeans.
Sneakers.
Primrose showed him the ballroom.
The damaged gift table had been repaired.
The original birthday chair replaced.
No cake.
Felix stood where Genevieve had pushed Primrose away.
“I’m sorry.”
Primrose frowned.
“For what?”
“My mom.”
“You’re not your mom.”
Six years old.
Better than most lawyers.
Felix looked down.
“She said I was supposed to protect my place.”
“What place?”
“I don’t know.”
Primrose considered.
“You can sit by me.”
That was her solution.
They sat on the floor.
Played cards.
Later Felix asked:
“Do you hate my mom?”
Primrose answered:
“Sometimes.”
Fair.
Then:
“Do you hate me?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He pulled a folded paper from pocket.
Horse stable brochure.
Of course.
He had convinced Adrian to let him begin beginner riding lessons.
Not buying a horse.
Progress.
Primrose wanted lessons too.
I said yes to a trial class.
Genevieve later complained through counsel:
“You’re using horses to buy Felix.”
I laughed.
Then realized she was serious.
No.
A ten-year-old liked horses.
May you like
Not every nice thing was leverage.
That was another family disease we needed to unlearn.
