Ashes to ashes.
Even before they dug into their meal, Tegan came to the Woolsworth household feeling utterly exhausted.
He wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps the anxiety of revealing the gift to Aiden; jumping the gun before the holidays. It could’ve been the heaviness of the stifling air in the—well, it couldn’t be called anything less than a manor. Bearskin rugs, suits of armor, some truly unnerving paintings. Yet there was a sense of modernism that clashed significantly with the older aspects of the house—widescreen televisions, for example. An ample ten-foot, eighty-gallon or so water tank in which tropical fish swam steadily. There were touchpads for certain rooms that blinked a friendly, misleading green eye at passersby. And of course, there were a few of the hired help sporting bluetooths and smartphones. Faint classical music--Chopin, if he was hearing it correctly--blossomed seemingly from under the floorboards themselves, coiling serpentine throughout the dizzying labyrinth that was the unusual premises of the Woolsworth clan.
It was all incredibly unnerving, and Tegan found himself clasping at the air beside himself, seeking a hand that wasn’t there.
The dinner looked splendid, however. In the grand dining room beside a (seemingly unnecessary) fireplace, the long surface of the table was tastefully adorned with flaky dinner rolls in dark red baskets, a full plate of what Tegan was informed was lamb casserole, an enormous garden salad, and two bottles of fine merlot. A maid drew out a chair for Tegan despite his meek protest and vanished like smoke following her helpful motion. Todd rose to greet Tegan when he entered; led by Linda, looking slightly out of it, but no less content and smug than when he and Tegan had first met concerning the merging of Redding and Woolsworth.
When Todd extended his hand, Tegan caught the sight of fresh scars on his knuckles and bruises peppering the flesh.
Being of a quiet nature and reserved at best, the taller of the two men said nothing on the subject and seated himself at Linda’s right, while the lady of the house took the left. Though estranged, she and her soon-to-be-if-not-already-ex-husband seemed to get along just fine. It showed in the way they exchanged near-exact smiles, and in the way Linda made sure Todd had everything he needed—plate, napkin, even going so far as to serve his food for him despite Todd’s tired protests that he could do it himself. The dynamic was strange, but it was just something Tegan decided to roll with.
He was more a scientist, after all, than a businessman. The role had simply rolled him somewhere else.
“So, we’re here to discuss the upcoming announcement regarding the new genetic disorder switch-off drug,” Linda began lightly, folding her hands with a blink of a garnet ring in the firelight. Todd nodded as he dug into the food, Tegan hesitantly toying with the salad on his plate. Linda’s ruby smile softened, and she reached out with a cold hand that smelled of vinegar and chamomile to squeeze Tegan’s fingers reassuringly. It was not unlike being gripped by a fistful of snow.
“It’s alright, sugar,” Linda’s smile twitched, then widened as she withdrew her hand. “We’re all a bit nervous, aren’t we, Todd?” The man with the sandy hair nodded firmly and swallowed a mouthful of wine that caught the light from the fireplace like bloody water. Tegan blinked and the effect was lost, his stomach flipping. Why was he so terrified? He supposed it was because he was more comfortable with a chemistry set than most people. He still felt strange in his own skin, sometimes—only with Aiden, the boys, and the dog did he truly feel like a person. Others…
Tegan fidgeted with the ring on his finger. The warmth of the fireplace in the elaborate dining room was making him even drowsier. A vague smell like lavender hung on the air, coiling in invisible clouds overhead. Linda smiled anew, noting the gesture of Tegan toying with the simple jewelry with a watchful eye.
“You simply must invite your wife next time, Mr. Wolfe, when we’re not discussin’ business.”
“Husband,” Tegan corrected automatically. Linda froze; her lips parting, then pressing together in silent understanding. The nostrils of her thin nose flared. She said nothing, then, folding her hands and straightening her shoulders. It was Todd, to her immediate left, who looked up with a bleary expression of hopeful interest—which quickly melted away into a glass-eyed frown of neutral disapproval.
“So, the, ah--” Tegan turned his fork over cautiously, still not sure if he felt centered enough to eat. “The drug. I’m thinking of calling it Enzyautomatic, as it fills in the missing enzymes required in the developmental stages of--”
“Darling, hold up” Linda cut in jovially, waving her fork at him in a playful gesture. “Y’haven’t touched your food yet. Brand name is all well and good, but business should be discussed on a stomach that’s been fed.” Tegan at once felt a hunger pang; then another, and realized he should’ve taken up Aiden’s proposal of macaroni prior to the meeting. His own nerves had undone his better judgment; again. He shook his head and ladled casserole onto his plate as Linda folded her hands, watching him over the top of them. Todd continued to eat as though his life depended on it, uncharacteristically quiet.
“Right,” Tegan muttered, putting a forkful of lamb into his mouth and chewing; swallowing. “So, the merger makes…” He trailed off, head cocked to one side, then gestured to the plate with his fork. Linda grinned, eyes twinkling—twin sparks in the semidarkness of the firelit dining room. “This is really good,” he added, glancing up from his plate.
“Thanks,” Linda said lightly, tucking her hair behind one ear. “Old family recipe.” Her plate was full. Tegan smiled slightly, then looked back down, trying to find his train of thought. All he could find instead was the desire to eat more. So he did.
“Now, then,” Linda said airily, leaning back in her chair with her hands still folded,
“Let’s really talk some business.”
