Gregory ripped the cap off the bottle of scotch. He tossed it into the center of the burnng pit where it bounced off the layer of papers he was building on the bottom. Taking a long, burning swig he realized he had been fortunate. The resort manager had been only to happy to give in to Olivia's request that he be allowed to use it. Grateful she had asked, he knew he would have demanded it.
Roger had her safely away on a walk up the shore. Gregory knew Olivia would be with him otherwise, watching his fall into the depths of his emotional turmoil. His old friend had seen the signs of the coming storm in his manner on the way back from the nursing home, and Roger was right to keep her away. She didn't need to see him like this. Damage control alone would have taken the rest of the trip, and he wanted to enjoy his time here with his wife. Stealing some amount of happiness from this place would teach his father's memory that he was beyond him. That he had beaten him.
His father was a pack rat. He had kept everything, and now Gregory had a life's worth of despair in a pile of cardboard boxes. Most of it was useless old paperwork tht Nicholas had saved obesessively, but lost in the debries were remnants of his mother. Some old photographs of and books that she had written in. Everything of Alice's was in a neat pile on the picnic table,and he piled up everything else in a steadily growing mound waiting for the gas can.
In the back of the storage locker, he found a cardboard box with Alice's jewelry stuffed inside of it, wrapped up in an old table cloth. The lace was ruined, stained brown with water damage, and the jewelry inside was barely worth more then the cloth. Nicholas had cheap taste, all of the baubles were garish and he dumped them into the pit, listening to the dull thuds on the papers already there. Something hit with a dull thump heavier then the rest.
Dropping to his knees, he went into the pile with both hands up to his elbows. Looking with deperate fingers for the cause of the noise and completely headless of the dirt and junk, Gregory didn't even noticethe scratches he inflicted on his hands. Finally, his left hand closed on the cold metal circle and he tore it victoriously out of the pile, the long chain trailing afterwards like a tail.
Returning to the picnic table with his prize, he took another long draught of scotch as he cleaned the old pocket watch on his shirt. Nicholas had lied about the watch the night his mother died, saying he'd beat it into to tiny pieces, so Gregory could never tarnish it with his hands. Suspecting even his father didn't have the heart to destroy Alice's only legacy for her son, he had searched everything left, praying his suspicions were right. The watch was his now.
Laughing manicially, he toasted it with his bottle of scotch. After another long drink, he poured some on the ground beneath the pcnic table. "Here's to you father. I'm sure you need a drink down there." Picking up the watch, he circled the pile of posessions thoughtfully. "All my life, she wanted me to have this, the one thing she had to give me that was hers. That you couldn't take away."
"That night, when she died, I remember her pressing it into my hand and telling me she was proud of me. She knew I would have a good life." Kicking one of the boxes into the pile, he shook in anger.
"But that wasn't good enough for you was it? You had to rip it out of my hands as soon as her heart stopped. You had to tell me that I didn't deserve it. That I wasn't worthy."
Smashing the bottle of scotch into the pile, he grabbed the gas can as the liquid drained from the broken glass. He splashed on the gasoline recklessly, liberally soaking everything within the blackened circle of the pit. "I've beaten you." He sneered at the pile.
"I hated you, I was terrified of you. And mom -mom was dying the moment you met her. You just watched her go. You couldn't even hold her hand when she died. That was me." Striking the match gave a wicked light to his features.
"And you died alone." He held up the match, watching the flame lick closer to his fingers. "No one mourns you."
Dropping the match, he watched the paper beneath it blacken and burst into flame. "The only one who cried when you died was Olivia, and she cried for me." The tiny flame crawled upwards towards the gasoline. "She cried for me."
Catching with a rush of noise and light, the gasoline tore upwards in a fireball, knocking him back a step. The firelight raged in his eyes, sparks and flecks of burning paper swirling around his head like motes of burning snow.
Down on the rocky shoreline, Olivia watched the pillar of smoke start to creep over the line of pine trees. "That's Gregory isn't it"
Not bothering to look up from the rocks he was skipping on the still water, Roger confirmed her fears. "Took him longer then I thought to get to the destruction."
Pulling her knees up to her chin, Olivia shivered subconciously in the cooling night air. "Should we go back"
The rock caught the surface of the water in seven neat little splashes before sinking into the darkness. "Maybe." Roger rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment as he looked for another rock. "It might be better just to let him burn himself out. You know what Gregory can be like when he's kept something in for too long. This has been building up for more then twenty years."
Selecting a probable specimen, Roger tried to beat his current record of seven. Watching the water, Olivia wondered how big the Lake they were on had to be if it looked so much like the ocean, but while the ocean made the air briny and crisp, the air here just smelled cold. She looked back at the smoke. Fighting with her own judgement, she got up to pace the shoreline.
Hearing her feet behind him, Roger threw his last rock and took up her back and forth pattern next to her. "I'll take you back if you want love. All you have to do is say the word."
Olivia buried her hands in her pockets. "I don't know, you're probably right, Gregory needs to be alone for awhile."
Far across the black water, the first traces of moonlight started to peer through the dark pines. "Just give him a little more time. I don't want to see you get on the recieving end of any of that." Pointing at the growing curl of smoke, Roger stepped nimbly over a huge dead tree and reached back a hand to help her over. Pausing tentatively on top of the log, Olivia got Roger's attention. "You're really thinking too much tonight love, you've got your poor eyebrows all tied in knots."
Smiling weakly, she finally blurted out the nagging thought from this morning. "Has he said anything to you about wanting another baby"
Roger chuckled in surprise. "That old dog! If you were my wife, I don't know if I'd want to gt you knocked up again. After all, the kids are almost out and gone and you're just getting to the fun part of being married."
Olivia couldn't laugh. Gregory had been too gentle in his denial, and too sincere when he brought it up for it to just be a passing thought. "I'm serious Roger. I think he's put a lot of thought into this."
Hiding his thoughts behind professional detachment was something Roger had picked up splendidly in medical school. He leaned against the log lazily and pretended to spend a long moment in contemplation. He would have to hand it to Gregory. Not only did he managed to use the fertility drugs without Olivia's knowledge, but he had managed to plant enough of an idea in her head for her to come to her doctor friend for help.
"Well love, what do you think about it? Are you ready to part with that beautiful figure of yours again? I mean, it's not that you aren't absolutely radiant when you're pregnant, but it's a big commitment. Especially, and don't shoot the messenger, at your age."
Predictably, her face both brightened with amusement at his flattery and fell when he mentioned her age. "Do you really think"
He put an arm around her shoulders instantly"No, no, not at all. I think you and Gregory can do anything you both put your minds too." He took her hand and started down the shore back to the resort. "And to be perfectly honest with you love, he's been taking about it a great deal. Didn't quite know how to bring it up with you, but I think he has some concerns about the future."
Olivia's immediate worry was vivid on her face. "Concerns? What kind of concerns"
Rubbing a hand across her back, he tried to decide how to phrase Gregory's carefully developed script. "Well, he worries about his legacy. Caitlin doesn't have the mind for business, and he and Sean have always been so at odds with each other. Someone has a pair of very large shoes to fill at the Liberty Corporation when he retires and I think he's always wanted it to be one of his children."
"He's never mentioned it before." Replying quickly, Olivia's mind was already racing. It made sense in a disturbing way she had never considered. Who was going to pick up where Gregory left of? If it was up to Sean and Caitlin they might just sell out and live off the money for the rest of their lives. She couldn't blame them for wanting that kind of luxury, but what did that mean for their children, her grandchildren?
Roger sighed heavily. "I'm afraid it's something all of us father's worry about. I thank my lucky stars that Ethan has a good career ahead of him. You should see the herds of animals he has back at the estate." They left the water and started down the dark path through the woods, the smell of Gregory's bonfire starting to drift towards them.
"I guess, if I were your darling husband, I'd be wanting another baby so I could have a protegee, someone to learn everything I knew so I could retire to a tropical island with my lovely wife in peace."
They were close enough to the fire for the light of it to reflect off her eyes, making them look unnaturally bright. "What should I do"
Roger put on his best serious expression, but could only hold it for a moment before he burst into good-natured laughter. "You have two children already, do I really need to spell out the details for you"
Blushing faintly, Olivia giggled behind her hand. "No, I think that part is something I remember."
"Good." He assured her easily. "After that, it's just repetition. The best advice I can give you is to make love at the drop of a hat, keep lots of headgear around for the dropping, and keep a good attitude about it. It may take time. It may never work, but the only downside is something I think both of you can live with." Finishing with a wink, Roger had her feeling the most relieved she had in a long time.