“Ray.” Uncle Harry whispered his name when he saw Ray in the doorway. His parents turned to face him, his mother’s lips tightening further. Ray ignored them.
“Uncle.” He grasped Uncle Harry’s hand. It was cold, as if the blood couldn’t be bothered to travel that far anymore, the skin yellowish and bruised. Ray willed the heat to transfer from his hand to Harry’s. “I learned that Wisconsin has three times more bars than grocery stores.” Harry was the one who’d encouraged him to learn more about the state’s food and drink if he was going to own a restaurant. He struggled to think of anything else, his mind blank except for the one topic he had to tell someone about. “I asked someone out for a drink. She shot me down, but I’m hoping she’ll give me another chance.”
Uncle Harry’s lips turned up a bit, even as his lids slid shut and he dozed off. Ray kept holding his hand. He wanted to tell him all about meeting Sabrina and her cookies, which he’d already eaten half of, wanting to get to know her more with each taste. Uncle Harry might even know her.
The room stayed quiet for an entire thirty seconds before his mother started.
“What nonsense is this about meeting someone? Don’t tell me you’re dating,” she said.
“Okay, I won’t.”
She sniffed, then frowned. Ray enjoyed it. His mom was too invested in his love life.
“Once we get back home, we’ll have dinner with the Sullivans. Their daughter just finished at Wesleyan. Or was it Sarah Lawrence? One of those. We’ll have that duck dish you like so much. Maybe open up a few special bottles from the cellar. What do you think, darling?” Claire said, turning to her husband.
“That sounds lovely,” Raymond Jasper III said, smiling at his wife, though Ray was certain he hadn’t heard one word. Hid dad operated on a Pavlovian response, honed over forty years of marriage. When his wife said “darling,” he said “That sounds lovely.” She was going to do whatever it was anyway, no matter what he said, and it saved him hours of tedious conversation. It worked most of the time. Ray had vowed years ago to avoid a similar fate.
“I’m staying here, so unless the Sullivans’ daughter wants to come to Wisconsin for dinner, I’m going to miss it.”
“You’re being absurd. Tell him he’s being absurd, darling.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Ray bit his lip to keep from laughing. This was not one of those times when the standard answer worked.
Claire huffed.
“Raymond Jasper, I need you to back me up on this. Ray needs to come back to New York, not fritter his life away at the end of the world.”
“Mother, this is not the end of the world. We have the internet and electricity, even running water. There’s nothing left for me in New York.”
“Your career is there.”
“My career can be wherever I want it to be. I want it to be here, at The Otter Club.”
“What am I supposed to tell people?”
“Make up whatever you want.”
“We are not going to support this little hobby.”
Ray clenched his jaw.
“I can support myself. The restaurant will be in the black soon. I might not have loved real estate, but I was great at it. I know a good investment.”
“Raymond.” His mother’s tone made it clear that his father was to deploy the next stage of their two-pronged attack.
With a sigh, his dad stood and walked to his wife’s side.
“We’ll sell the Jasper properties here, then you’ll have no reason or place to stay.” He paused. “Including his house and Harry’s half of the restaurant.”
Ray’s mouth dropped open. Jaspers never sold land unless they meant to make a tidy profit.
“You can’t do that. I’m living there, and it’s in Uncle Harry’s name.”
“And soon it will be in mine. We’re his heirs, being the closest living relatives,” his dad said.
“We’ll sell it all to get you back home,” his mother said.
Ray frowned. He didn’t have enough cash to buy out the other half of the restaurant—he’d used most of his reserves on improvements, leaving just enough for living expenses while the restaurant found its footing. Every part of the Jasper legacy in the Dells would be gone if his parents went through with this.
“I’ll buy it.” He’d find another investor.
“You don’t have the money,” his dad said, his tone sad, like he didn’t enjoy manipulating his son that way. “We won’t sell to another investor. You’ll have to sell to us or default.”
“Why are you doing this?” Ray asked.
“We know that going back home is best for you,” his mother said.
What did they want from him? To take over the family’s business, Jasper Holdings? Lucy wanted it, not him. Ray had to find a way to keep the house and the restaurant, at least. With the house, he could do what he’d come here to do. Ray scrambled for something, anything, to make his parents change their minds.
“A Jasper always needs to be in the Dells,” he said.
“That’s Harry talking, not you,” his mother said.
“That’s enough, Claire,” his dad chimed in. “Ray is an adult, and he’s right about one thing. There’s a family obligation to represent our interests here. The Jaspers are leaders, wherever they live. If you can demonstrate that to us, then we’ll consider selling Harry’s portion of the restaurant to you. But you’ll need to find the money.”
“How am I supposed to prove it to you?”
“Your restaurant hosts that annual hoedown, doesn’t it?” his dad asked.
“The Goodbye Gala.” Ray nodded.
“Yes, that one. Show me you belong here instead of taking over Jasper Holdings,” his father said. His mother opened her mouth to protest, but his dad held up his hand to stave off her comments. “Let it go.”
She got up and left the room, her tiny heels clicking like precise hammer strikes to his temple.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I didn’t do it for you. Your uncle Harry was a good man and they loved him here. His legacy shouldn’t be forgotten. That’s on your shoulders now. Do the family proud.”
His father left the room to join his mother. Ray looked down at Uncle Harry’s shrunken form under the thin hospital blanket, the machines’ beeps a metronome for his racing thoughts. Where to begin? He had no idea what invisible benchmark his dad could have in mind, but he knew he had to find it. Planning the gala was already a huge challenge—he had only attended the event once in his life. He needed help—someone who knew the area and the other local businesses. His staff would do the food, but a successful event needed more. He knew his future lay here in the Dells, but first he would have to pull off a successful event to earn that chance.