Chapter 426: Coyle Apartment

Monday, February 13th, Morning

There was an eerie silence as he walked into the apartment. He investigated the mirror in the foyer and adjusted his tie and blazer; the woman he would see today always insists everything look perfect, especially him. Nothing was expected, and it had been so long he couldn't think of anything less was acceptable.

Grant Coyle walked into the dining room, dropped his bottom blazer button, and sat across from an older woman. Eulalia Coyle, his mother, looked up from her tablet and removed her eyeglasses out of vanity. Finally, she looked at her oldest son.

"You wanted to see me?" Grant Coyle asked.

"Yes, I did; I heard you visited Alex and my grandson with your paramour recently," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Alex wasn't doing well, and Ger was concerned about his mother," Grant said.

"His mother is in a mausoleum; she is just his caretaker," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Well, whatever, Mother, I'm not having this conversation again," Grant said.

Mrs. Coyle made a waving motion with her hand. "Whatever, as you say, Grant, are you trying to be a disappointment, as your brother and sister?" she asked.

"Let's not go there, Mother," Grant said.

Mrs. Coyle dismissively waved her hand again. "So, anyway, how do you think this thing you have with Ms. Fallon Adams is going?" Mrs. Coyle asked.

"I think it's going well," Grant said.

Mrs. Coyle nodded, "I see; how much do you know about this woman?" she asked.

"I know enough," Grant said.

"I've been talking with Sheelagh Vander Hout recently," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Oh yeah, how is Mrs. Vander Hout?" Grant asked.

"She's doing well, and on Wednesday, I'm throwing a cocktail party for her and Breann," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Why?" Grant asked.

"Breann just came back from the Middle East; she'll only be home for two weeks, then she's off to Eastern Europe," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Why is she off to Eastern Europe?" Grant asked.

"To cover that foolishness over there," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Why do you always call it foolishness?" Grant asked.

Mrs. Coyle sighed, "It's because it's that's man's war," she said.

"Funny how every war we fight is that man's war," Grant said, "No matter which man is in power."

Mrs. Coyle shook her head, "War is bad for business; if you followed your father into the family business, you would understand," she said.

"Cousin Durmont handles the business just fine," Grant said.

"You should have gone into the family business," Mrs. Coyle said.

"I didn't want to, and father approved of what I wanted to be and do," Grant said.

Mrs. Coyle looked at Grant, "Your father indulged you way too much; he should have been firmer with you," she said.

"It is what it is," Grant said.

Mrs. Coyle nodded, "Anyway, Grant, you'll be at my cocktail party," she said.

"Why, Mother?" Grant asked.

"So, you and Breann could reconnect," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Funny how it's your cocktail party now and not for the Vander Houts," Grant said.

"Does it matter?" Mrs. Coyle asked.

"Maybe," Grant said.

"And you will be there," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Fine, Mother, I'll be there, and I'll bring Fallon," Grant said.

"Why are you bringing Fallon?" Mrs. Coyle asked.

"Well, I think she'll enjoy it," Grant said.

"Grant, I can understand you having fun with someone so low, but she'll never fit in," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Fallon has a degree from NYU and an MBA from Columbia; what's the difference?" Grant asked.

"She's how old? Thirty-something? She works for a nonprofit and not going to make something of herself," Mrs. Coyle said.

"What does that mean?" Grant asked.

"She's looking for a rich husband," Mrs. Coyle said.

"As opposed to Breann Vander Hout?" Grant asked.

"Well, frankly, yes, Grant," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Doesn't it hurt that she's of the same class as us?" Grant asked.

Mrs. Coyle looked at Grant shocked, "Grant, I never said such a thing," she said.

"Well, it was implied," Grant said.

"Well, are you sure Ms. Fallon Adams isn't looking for a meal ticket?" Mrs. Coyle asked.

"How could you be sure of that, Mother?" Grant asked.

"She comes from a small coastal town in North Carolina. I looked it up, not much going on there, just teenage pregnancy and basketball," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Fallon escaped that," Grant said.

"How many siblings does she have?" Mrs. Coyle asked.

Grant shrugged, "She rather vague on that, but there are several sisters, and possibly a brother; she doesn't talk about him much," he said.

"She's hiding something, Grant," Mrs. Coyle said.

"So?" Grant asked.

"She's fine to have fun with, Grant, but she's not wife material," Mrs. Coyle said.

"But Breann Vander Hout is?" Grant asked.

"Yes, she knows what is expected," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Which is what, Mother?" Grant asked.

"Support you, be on your arm, and be a good mother," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Want more grandchildren? I thought Ger was enough," Grant said.

"A legitimate grandchild would be nice," Mrs. Coyle said.

"You think Fallon couldn't be a mother?" Grant asked.

"Of course, she could delivery children, but could she raise them?" Mrs. Coyle asked.

"Mother?" Grant asked.

"Grant, you're the last best hope for the family. Your sister has passed, and well less said about your brother the better," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Mother, why do you insist on doing this stuff?" Grant asked.

"Because I'm looking out for the family," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Mother, I've been doing that since I became an adult, I could've gone to Brown, my first-choice school, but I went to Columbia to help with the family," Grant said.

"Again, I'm very grateful for that," Mrs. Coyle said.

"I've done nothing but sacrifice for this family," Grant said.

"We've been grateful the whole time," Mrs. Coyle said.

"This is the one time I want something for myself," Grant said.

"It will hurt the family," Mrs. Coyle said.

"Mother! Grant said.

"We need this for the family," Mrs. Coyle said.

Grant stood up and buttoned his blazer. He was looking at Mrs. Coyle. "Mother, I will be at your cocktail party," Grant said.

"Good," Mrs. Coyle said.

"And so will Fallon," Grant said and walked away