Four weeks later . . . It was Christmas Eve and the Dawsons were having a Christmas party. It had been a few years since Derek’s mother had hosted a Christmas party. She was making the rounds along with Deidre, both of them playing hostess cheery. His father was talking and laughing with a few VPs from Dawson Inc. Christmas music played as everyone drank and ate.Derek looked out the living room window with drink in hand. He had a good view of the street. During the past few weeks, Derek had a chance to think about his life currently and the future he wanted to have. He had finally decided what was important him and what wasn’t.The living room furniture had been moved around to make room for the nine-foot tree. Gold bulbs and white lights hung from it. It matched the gold them in the room. Garland hung from the fireplace mantle. His father approached him. “Hey, son. You okay?” Derek turned to him. “Yeah.” “Are you sure? You
New Year’s Eve . . . It was two hours before opening. Customers were already lining up on the sidewalk to get in. Two hours before Derek hosted a New Year’s Eve bash at The Oasis one last time. He looked around at the dark interior of his beloved club. The security lights were on. Derek exhaled as he remembered all the good, the bad, and the extraordinary. He walked over to the bar. He had fucked a hell of a lot of ladies on top of that bar. He turned around and looked at the dance floor. He had done the electric slide, the wobble, and the cupid shuffle with his customers on it countless times. Then he looked up in the rafters. There was a great view up there. “You’ve been a good girl,” he said with a croaked smile. “But it’s time we both move on.” The sale would be final three days after the new year. Derek walked to the back of the bar and raised his hand to the switch. “All right, beautiful. Let’s do it one las
Derek had opened the bottle and was pouring the sparkling liquid into the flutes. Once he was finished, he offered one to Chelsea. He wore a cotton red buttoned down shirt and black slacks. The diamond in his ear shimmered. “Thank you,” she said softly with a shy smile. “The last time I texted you had said Constance had invited you over to her penthouse for New Year’s Eve.” “She did. And I went. It was a small get together. But while I was there I found myself thinking that I would like . . . spending this holiday with my husband,” she answered with a bashful smile. It was true. She had been missing him and couldn’t stay away. So, Chelsea had sucked up her pride, made her apologies to her sister and the rest of her family, and left. She caught a cab to The Oasis. She knew he would be there since it was his last time being owner of The Oasis on New Year’s Eve. “Well, I am honored and privileged,” Derek took her elbow. He began
A day later . . .Whitney Bartholomew and her fiancé had come to the states to spend New Year’s in New York. The wedding was scheduled for late April in London. She couldn’t wait until she married him. Once again, she would be at the top of society. Being a countess opened the door to invitations to top of the line parties in the U.K. There was even a chance she could get invited to Buckingham Palace for a state dinner.When she had been married to her former husband, Lester Bartholomew, she had been invited to the most prominent homes and parties of New York Society. After the divorce, she was considered a second rate socialite. If someone had room at a party, then she would get invited. She wasn’t a must have at a party anymore. Then things got worse when her affair with Derek Dawson got exposed in the society section of The New York Times. Granted, the article wasn’t as bad as getting caught red handed by her daughter. She was dating Derek at the time. To this day, Ava
Derek arrived to the Heart and Vascular ICU at Jersey City Hospital in Jersey City. When he had arrived, a LPN had directed him to the lounge area for patients’ families. “Derek,” Deidre whimpered as she ran to him. The siblings embraced. Their mother rose from the couch with the dignity of a queen. There were six other people in the waiting room. They didn’t seem to pay much attention to them. “Mother,” Derek began. “What happened?” “We’re not entirely sure,” his mother answered. “I just got a call two hours ago that an ambulance had brought your father here. They had found him . . . in bed at a condo building, having severe chest pains. According to the EMTs, he could barely speak through the pain, but he was able to tell them to call his regular cardiologist in New York. They had all his information including his emergency contact, meaning me.” “So, they called you and you came?” Derek g
Almost two hours later . . . After Derek made some phone calls and grabbed a quick snack at a cafe, he headed to his father’s secret love nest. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this but someone had to do the dirty work, he guessed. Derek stuck the key into the hole and opened the door. On estimation, the entire place looked to be about a thousand square feet at least. Not too big or small. The majority of the living room scape was gray. The sofa, love seat, and two chairs were steel colored. The coffee table and end tables were black with thick legs. The lamps were large with a thick vase like base with light gray shades. The walls were painted an abalone shade. The carpet was a gray smoke color. There were black and white paintings on the walls. Derek didn’t recognize the artists names. He assumed his father had hired an interior designer to decorate the place. He couldn’t imagine him trusting a mistress to do it. A woman could ge
Violet Dawson had put off seeing her husband as long as she could. Visiting hours were almost over. Her children had visited Walt one last time before heading back to New York. Jersey City was only a twenty to twenty-five minute drive. She had told them she would see them at home. Now, she had to do the inevitable. See her sick, dying husband. It was her duty despite everything. Violet walked into the ICU hospital room. Walt’s eyes were closed. Good. He’s asleep. If anyone ask, I’ll just tell them – He opened his eyes as if he sensed someone was there. Damn. I hope I can handle this without becoming hysterical. “Violet,” he said weakly. “Where have you been?” “I had to run some errands,” she answered as she made her way to the bed. She sat down in the Downtown chair next to it. “I had to start getting things ready for when you come home.” A slow grin spread across hi
Five days later . . . St. Luke’s Lutheran Church was packed full of mourners, businessmen, and friends for Walter Lee Dawson’s final journey. The casket was top of the line. Deidre had insisted on it. Nothing but the best for Daddy, she had said. It had gold hardware and a black sleek finish. The interior was white silk. The ceremony in the church was short and sweet. The small choir sang two hymns, and the clergy led the litany. Scriptures from the old and new testament were read by Carlton Van Dyke and Franklin Barbra. At the end, the clergy did the eulogy. The funeral procession was filled with so many Rolls Royces, black limousines, Mercedes, BMWs, and Escalades you thought the president had died. The NYPD had to direct traffic and escort the motorcade to Green-Wood Cemetery. Once there, it took a while for everyone to get assembled. January 9th was a cool yet not so cold day to bury a loved one. There was no breeze, whic