Prodigal Son Read Online Free PDF Page A

to miss it. It was now or never.
    “I will
not
be supported by your father,” he said in a voice quavering with emotion. This was a loaded subject for him. It made him feel like an even bigger failure to go to L.A. with her, and have her father take care of them financially. Peter would rather starve. But Alana wouldn’t, and she was also thinking of the boys and their comfort. She didn’t want them deprived, if there was no need for it. Her father had offered to pay for everything. It was the opportunity Gary had been waiting for too, to get his little girl to come home, and even bring her boys. And he was more than willing to support Peter in the bargain. Her father’s fortune hadn’t been impacted by the upheaval on Wall Street, and he had sound investments and an enormous business, owned several oil wells in Southern California, and had huge real estate holdings. The only one who didn’t want to benefit from any of it was Peter, who felt completely emasculated by Alana’s deal with her father, and humiliated to go out to California with his tail between his legs.
    “You don’t have any choice,” Alana said as she stood up, and looked at him. “I’m not staying here in these conditions, with no money, nowhere to live, no prospects, and you out of a job, maybe for a hell of a long time.”
    “What are you saying?” Peter asked her harshly. This was beginning to sound ugly to him, and he could hear a veiled threat in her voice.
    “I’m saying that I’m going back to L.A. You can sell everything you want. My father made us a good offer to live with him, and take care of us. If you’re too stubborn or too proud to take him up on it, I’m not. The boys and I are going out next week, so they can start school there before it gets any later in the school year. I’ve already told them. They’re happy about it. They want to go. I won’t let you stop us.”
    “And if I won’t go?” Peter asked her with narrowed eyes, wondering just how far she would take this and what she was really saying.
    “Then we’ll go anyway. I’m getting off the
Titanic
. I’ve watched your whole life, and ours, collapse for the last week. The ship is going down. It already has. If you won’t get in the lifeboat, that’s your decision. But I’m getting off. You can come or not, that’s up to you.”
    “Are you leaving me?” Peter asked her bluntly, wanting to get clear on her implication.
    “I’m leaving New York and the mess we’re in here. My father offered us a safe haven. I’m going there. We’re already starting to drift apart. You don’t have time to think about us right now, you’re too busy trying to keep your head above water, and I understand that. You’re drowning, Peter. But I’m not going to let you drown me too. I’m getting the hell out. What happens to our marriage after this is up to you and what you do now.”
    “Are you saying that if I don’t move to L.A. and become your father’s minion, you’ll divorce me?” He was pushing her, and she was more than willing to push back.
    “You’re not going to have a job here for a long time. You might as well go too.” She didn’t answer his question.
    “What if I find a job somewhere else, like Boston or Chicago?” He was testing the waters to see how far she would go.
    She hesitated for a long moment, as their eyes met, and then she answered him at last. “I’m going home, Peter. To L.A. I’ve lived here for fifteen years, for you. It hasn’t worked out. Figure out what you want to do,” she said quietly, and then left the terrace, as he sat there alone, staring into space. He had heard her message loud and clear. If he wanted to save their marriage, which was about all he had leftnow that he cared about, he had to move to L.A., on her terms. And he could see what would happen if he didn’t. He laid his head back against the deck chair and closed his eyes as he thought about it, and silent tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. He had never