Blessings of the Father

As I boarded my Lear, Suzie Morton, my wisecracking flight secretary and trained flight attendant, greeted me. She took my briefcase and handed me a Bacardi 151 and Diet Coke in its place. Seems she already knew, I would not be flying left seat on this flight.

“We’re definitely a go for booze tonight I hear.” She quipped.

I was relieved to see her, as I hadn’t been sure she would be available on such short notice.

If you had told me that morning, that I would be flying to London in the evening, I would have laughed. That of course, was before the fax and the telegram. These two things were about to change my life as I knew it—forever.

My day had begun with my normal routine, at least it started out that way. Paul picked me up in the new Lincoln, at my home at 7:30 am sharp. We drove out of Spanish Trail Country Club, and I couldn’t help think what a beautiful October day it was.

All local Las Vegans know, that May and October, enjoy the very best weather of the entire year. Temperature right at 70 degrees, absolutely no wind, clear skies, and there was an obvious freshness in the air. This was simply, Las Vegas at its best. Say what you will about the commercial side of LV, it’s still a great place to call home.

I entered the general offices of Verandas Inc. my company, and went into my office and sat down. I completed my emails that I had been working on, during the drive in.

My openly gay, and highly capable personal administrative assistant Robbie O’Hara, entered with my morning coffee. He carried some facsimiles from the fax machine, that had come in after-hours on Thursday. I reviewed them in a cursory fashion, until I came to the one marked critically urgent on its cover sheet.

The fax surprised me right out of my otherwise very business-like mood. It read simply:

“To Marcus Morgan: Hello son, please contact me after receipt of telegram to follow.” Sincerely, Father. Surrey, England.

The cover sheet, had four contact numbers written on its face to call after receipt of the telegram, I recognized three of the numbers.

My father-in-law, was not known to send telegrams just to discuss idle conversation, or otherwise chit-chat. If he was sending me one, you could damn well bet he had a good reason, so I was alarmed. Now I would have to wait for it to show up.

Sometimes, I just don't understand the British way of thinking. After all, why bother standing on ceremony of sending a telegram in today’s high-speed world? Further, sending it to a person who you have just sent a fax to? Anything you can say in the telegram, you could be saying in the fax, right, and who sends telegrams any more, anyway? Only my proud, dyed in the wool British father-in-law, that’s who. He had always been a private man, so perhaps he was just not comfortable with a fax that countless curious eyes could invade, on it’s way into my office.

I was confused, stupefied, and otherwise anxious. There goes my great day, I mumbled to myself. Something had to be wrong back in Surrey, and right at 9:03 am Robbie bounced into my office carrying it.

“Here’s a telegram Marc.”

That was all he said, placing the enigmatic envelope, on my desk.

It was with some trepidation, that I took it from the desk and stared at it for a few moments. What could motivate my father-in-law, to contact me personally after nearly a dozen years of separation anyway? It was not as if, we were that close even while Miranda and I lived with him in England. I had not seen Lord Cedric, or Miranda as much as I still loved her, since returning to the States.

Cedric was by birth an Earl, and your typical English nobleman; he was reserved, dignified and ‘British’ to a tee. He and I, had an unusual closeness that one could only describe as mutually respectful of one another. And we were both at the mercy, of the same female—Miranda.

The telegram was succinct.

“Son, I must meet with you as soon as possible to discuss the terms of my estate. I must see you, within the next few days if it is at all possible, Fondly, Father.”

Anytime Miranda and I spoke on the telephone, there was never any indication of Cedric being in failing health. I was alarmed and surprised therefore, at the urgency alluded to, in the telegram.

This situation floored me, I would have never expected my father-in-law, to desire to include me in his will. Miranda’s father had both sizable land and business holdings. Was he planning to include me on them? Perhaps though, he desired to first speak to me, regarding how I was not to be included. Was he concerned, I would interfere with assets he planned to leave solely to Miranda?