“This is history,” Arthur said, pointing to the center piece. “Vintage gold. A real investor knows that hard assets are the only things that survive a down turn.”
I watched him polish the watch glass with his thumb. My father had spent his entire life building the image of a successful patriarch in Oak Creek, a man whose word was as good as gold.
“We want both our daughters to feel loved, Emily,” Arthur said, turning to me with a wide, bright smile.
The words sounded like a rehearsed speech, but I wanted to believe them.
“We are going to cover the entire wedding,” my father continued, leaning back against the sideboard. “Every bill, every detail. The family reputation demands it.”
Caleb cleared his throat, his face perfectly still.
“We have our own savings, Arthur,” Caleb said. “We can manage a modest service.”
“Nonsense,” Arthur said, waving his hand as if dismissing a fly. “It is already decided.”
He picked up one of the gold watches and held it up to the light.
