plate right now to press him. If and when Matt called on him to help with a possible senate bid, he’d be there to offer assistance.
“Back to the reason you asked me to meet you for dinner,” Matt continued. “I can tell this tax haven situation is weighing on your conscience.”
“Of course, it is,” Mason said. “I just keep thinking about how disappointed my dad would be if I sold out.”
“You don’t need to hear my opinion on this; you already have your answer.”
“But I want that partnership,” Mason said.
He just wasn’t sure whether he was willing to pay such a high price. What good was a partnership if he wasn’t able to look himself in the mirror?
When he woke the next morning, Mason moved on autopilot, getting dressed and doing what he had done nearly every Saturday morning for over a decade. He headed to his mother’s for a pancake breakfast.
He entered the house and his mouth instantly watered at the aroma of spicy breakfast sausage.
“Good morning,” Mason called as he walked into the bright yellow kitchen of the house his mother bought after their childhood home burned to the ground. His mom had been here longer than she’d been in their first house, but his father had never lived here, so for Mason, it never quite had the same feeling of home.
He walked over to his mother, who was at the stove nudging fluffy pancakes with her spatula, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, baby,” she said, returning his kiss.
Kiera sat at the round breakfast table, clipping coupons from a stack of circulars. A few months ago, his mother had embarked on a coupon craze after seeing a show on television. Her garage was now packed with a bunch of stuff she didn’t need, but that she insisted would one day come in handy.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving this morning?” Mason asked Kiera as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. “We could have ridden over here together.”
“I left your house since before six a.m.,” she answered. “I’ve already put in two and a half hours at my kitchen this morning. I need to head back there in a little bit.”
“Not until you’ve eaten breakfast,” his mother said, carrying a platter piled high with pancakes and sausage to the table.
As they dug into their breakfast, their mother regaled them with the bargains she found at the outlet mall. She pointed at the circular Kiera held. “Cut out that coupon for two dollars off on diapers.”
Mason rolled his eyes. “You do realize that if you’re buying stuff you don’t even need, it’s not really saving you money, right?”
“I’m stocking up for when I finally have grandkids.” She shot Mason a pointed look.
“Hey, why’re you looking at me? You have a daughter right there who is more than capable of giving you grandkids.”
“You’re the oldest,” Kiera said. “You’re responsible for the grandchildren.”
“I agree,” his mother said.
“That’s the most unfair thing I’ve heard today,” he said. He gestured to Kiera. “FYI, that party you had last night won’t help in the baby-making department.” He looked over at his mother, his eyes creasing with mischief at the corners. “Do you want to know what kind of party your daughter had last night?”
“Oh, yes, the party! How did it go?” His mother asked. “I still need to put in my order.”
Mason choked on the coffee he’d just sipped, and his mother and Kiera burst out laughing.
“Don’t ever say that again,” he warned.
“Mom’s only teasing,” Kiera said. “She put her order in since last week.”
Mason dropped his fork and shoved his plate away. Who in the hell could still have an appetite after hearing that?
His mother and Kiera both laughed until they had tears rolling down their faces.
“I’d love to continue the torture,” Kiera said, “But I need to get back to my kitchen.”
She rose, kissed their mother’s cheek, and carried her plate to
“Back to the reason you asked me to meet you for dinner,” Matt continued. “I can tell this tax haven situation is weighing on your conscience.”
“Of course, it is,” Mason said. “I just keep thinking about how disappointed my dad would be if I sold out.”
“You don’t need to hear my opinion on this; you already have your answer.”
“But I want that partnership,” Mason said.
He just wasn’t sure whether he was willing to pay such a high price. What good was a partnership if he wasn’t able to look himself in the mirror?
When he woke the next morning, Mason moved on autopilot, getting dressed and doing what he had done nearly every Saturday morning for over a decade. He headed to his mother’s for a pancake breakfast.
He entered the house and his mouth instantly watered at the aroma of spicy breakfast sausage.
“Good morning,” Mason called as he walked into the bright yellow kitchen of the house his mother bought after their childhood home burned to the ground. His mom had been here longer than she’d been in their first house, but his father had never lived here, so for Mason, it never quite had the same feeling of home.
He walked over to his mother, who was at the stove nudging fluffy pancakes with her spatula, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, baby,” she said, returning his kiss.
Kiera sat at the round breakfast table, clipping coupons from a stack of circulars. A few months ago, his mother had embarked on a coupon craze after seeing a show on television. Her garage was now packed with a bunch of stuff she didn’t need, but that she insisted would one day come in handy.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving this morning?” Mason asked Kiera as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. “We could have ridden over here together.”
“I left your house since before six a.m.,” she answered. “I’ve already put in two and a half hours at my kitchen this morning. I need to head back there in a little bit.”
“Not until you’ve eaten breakfast,” his mother said, carrying a platter piled high with pancakes and sausage to the table.
As they dug into their breakfast, their mother regaled them with the bargains she found at the outlet mall. She pointed at the circular Kiera held. “Cut out that coupon for two dollars off on diapers.”
Mason rolled his eyes. “You do realize that if you’re buying stuff you don’t even need, it’s not really saving you money, right?”
“I’m stocking up for when I finally have grandkids.” She shot Mason a pointed look.
“Hey, why’re you looking at me? You have a daughter right there who is more than capable of giving you grandkids.”
“You’re the oldest,” Kiera said. “You’re responsible for the grandchildren.”
“I agree,” his mother said.
“That’s the most unfair thing I’ve heard today,” he said. He gestured to Kiera. “FYI, that party you had last night won’t help in the baby-making department.” He looked over at his mother, his eyes creasing with mischief at the corners. “Do you want to know what kind of party your daughter had last night?”
“Oh, yes, the party! How did it go?” His mother asked. “I still need to put in my order.”
Mason choked on the coffee he’d just sipped, and his mother and Kiera burst out laughing.
“Don’t ever say that again,” he warned.
“Mom’s only teasing,” Kiera said. “She put her order in since last week.”
Mason dropped his fork and shoved his plate away. Who in the hell could still have an appetite after hearing that?
His mother and Kiera both laughed until they had tears rolling down their faces.
“I’d love to continue the torture,” Kiera said, “But I need to get back to my kitchen.”
She rose, kissed their mother’s cheek, and carried her plate to
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