Love for hire

Max.

19 March 2022

-Logan Nox is dead!

Xavier Pritz, the family GP, comes out to give us the news that we all suspected when we heard, several minutes ago, my grandmother's heart-rending scream in the next room.

However, that didn't stop me from feeling the icy cold of winter's lag run through my body after those two simple words.

For a few moments I cease to be present in the room and immerse myself in the deafening sound of the rain outside and the ticking of the big cedar clock about to go off and strike the famous cu-cu-cu for six o'clock in the evening. For a brief moment, I am almost certain I heard the tapping of the old man's cane as he walked across the marble of the hallway just before he entered the great hall.

-My condolences, Nox family," says Antonio, butler for almost forty years, as he bows his head to everyone in the common room of the mansion. Young Max," he pronounces next to me almost in a whisper before he withdraws.

The rest of the workers mimic him as they bow their heads to us and profess how sorry they are for our loss.

I witnessed everyone around me embrace each other in sobs, but no one came to comfort me. None of my family liked me as much as my grandfather and now my grandfather is no more. Suddenly I am startled by Nathaniel tugging on my trousers; the youngest of all my nephews at only three years old, I look down and he greets me with his beautiful angelic face, quite similar to his mother thanks to genetics, and between stammering he manages to say:

-You're sad, Uncle Mas.... -I smile and squat down as high as I can, or as low as I can.

-Yes, little one.

-Why? -He frowns, and I let out a smile that makes me feel guilty.

-Because Grandpa's gone.

-And he's not coming back? -He puts up his arms like jugs and tries to keep his posture upright until he sways and I catch him before he falls flat on his face.

-No, because there's no ticket back to where he went. -I'm on the verge of tears and hold back.

-But we can go and visit him. -He pats me lightly on the shoulder with his little hand and runs off to where his other siblings are.

-Someday," I reply to the air and sit up again.

I don't exactly believe in heaven or hell, however, I'm sure that if there is a heaven, the old man is there, maybe giving a nag or two or just being special as he is.

"It was," I repeat to myself internally.

Good people deserve to go to so-called heaven. The old man was a bit stubborn and stolid in business, but unique in life. One of those men who no longer exist and cannot be replicated. As much as I tried to imitate him, I could never get it right, I don't have the courage to give my all for the one I love, let alone fight beyond a corner or four hands with the odd idiot and my brother. The old man had been married only once and for more than 50 years, suffering the loss of two children and having to raise six unruly grandchildren; healthy and whole until the cancer that originated from a small tumour in the brain, detected only because he decided to ride again and when he dismounted he suffered a collapse which led to several studies; all that was defeating him. And as he said:

-If one day I have to stay in bed because of some illness, it is because I am already going to die.

"And the wretched man kept it", I think.

I look around me again and his old brown rocking chair with the red cushions, still looking as imposing as before, evokes childhood memories in me. I spent the best years of my life in this place, among big mountains, smelly pines and sounding rivers. With long early mornings and warm nights listening attentively, while my brothers slept, to the old man's revolutionary and contradictory stories. Even the time when a group of bandits entered the Nox fort outside Montive when he was only sixteen years old and he himself had to take up arms in order to defend his parents and sisters from the looting groups that had formed after the internal war that originated when my great-grandfather came to invade the land and obtain the town's valuable gems. That invasion, according to him, had lasted several days, and he had been wounded in the leg more than once, using since then his famous walking stick with an eagle's head on the handle. At that time he was not so far off the mark, he was more daring, as when he put me on a horse, all alone, at the age of five, to ride like him, without caring at any time about my mother's screams to ask him to put me down while I ran with my newborn sister in my arms through all the mud.

I sigh longingly and throw myself into the small armchair next to his that is now so small for me. All my fondest memories are in such a huge place, which without him, already looks bare and empty.

-And when will the old man's will be read?

I immediately recognise the voice of the questioner, but I refuse to believe that someone of my blood would be so foolish as to ask such a thing only a few minutes before the time of death, so I turn around with a gesture of displeasure; my mouth twisted and narrowing my eyes, and realising that it is indeed him, I rise hastily to face him. But, seeing my intention, Ariatna, one of my younger sisters, steps in my way, placing her hand on my chest to calm me down. On the other side of the room, my twin brother Nicolas smiles cheekily and impishly in my direction. He has arrived with someone who is not his wife, as if this is an ordinary party where he can bring guests. The woman is immersed in her drink, dressed in black leather and loudly chewing a stick of gum.

"Who the fuck lends themselves, just for the hell of it, to these things?

Nicolas and I had already started our usual duel of glances, only in one of them you could see more than arrogance this time: the pain was evident in my eyes and the greed was clear in Nico's dark eyes.

-Have a little more respect," I say after a while.

-I do," Nico smiles. But the old man is dead and we're not. Someone alive should take care of the agency, don't you think, brother?

-Surely not you.

-Why not? I'm the only married one in the family. You can't even keep a fish with you.

-I'd rather be single than in a marriage where infidelity," I point accusingly at the woman next to him, "is the daily bread. You take after your father, doing the same to your wife as he did to your mother. Can't you see that you'll bring her to the same end, you son of a...

-Enough! -I am my husband's will and I will be the one to dictate things. -She takes a moment to study those of us in the room carefully. You, go away. -She orders the woman.

She looks at Nico and after an inaudible conversation between the two she leaves, taking a silver bowl of food with her. The grandmother looks at Nico with disappointment and orders one of her caregivers to follow the woman and take her property off her hands.

Old Nox looks bad, her eyes swollen, her face red and her gaze still lost in the past memory of her dead love. I am amazed at the endurance she has. Losing first her only two children and then her husband leaving her alone in the world, even though she has us, must be devastating.

Ridding myself of my sister's foolish attempt to avoid a fight, I walk slowly and vehemently towards my grandmother in anticipation of her approval, take her hand and kiss it gently. I know for certain that I am not her favourite. How can people be so contrary? While for my grandfather I was his adoration from the first second of my birth, my grandmother for years couldn't even see me in a picture because of the great physical resemblance I have with my father. But this time it's different, in her eyes I can see a peculiar gleam when she turns to look at me.

-Fool -Nico speaks again.

The silence in the room is sepulchral as we wait for Grandma to speak. Everyone, even the little ones, look on with interest at what she is about to tell us about the future of the company. For, with no more children, the old woman is left to decide between her six grandchildren. Me (Maxwell Nox), Nicolas, Ariatna, Lisa, Michael and Ronda. Ronda is out of reach because she's eighteen, Michael and Lisa live too far away from home most of the time to be candidates, and Ariatna, well, being a single mother with five kids, the last thing she wants to do is compete with her two idiot brothers (her words) for a presidency she has no interest in at all. So, there are only two contenders left, and if it were up to me, this war would be to the death.

-What my husband wanted, -the grandmother began-, was for his whole family to get along. That the past would be forgotten and everyone would make amends properly. If one of you two wants the whole of the Nox agency, you have to turn your life around, no cheating, no lies and none of the things that characterise you. Because I may be old, but I'm no fool.

She looks at us both as she struggles to her feet with the help of my arm, her bony hand pressing down and shaking hard, for a moment I fear she may fall apart at that instant, but, to my surprise, once on her feet she walks herself to the portrait of her late husband above the fireplace.

-Nicolas, if you want my vote as the new president of the agency you must put aside your affairs, the constant infidelities, I'm sick of seeing Molly suffer like that, she's fabulous. You know that, you must respect her once and for all or let her go, but if you decide to stay in marriage with her I want you to start having an heir on the eve, all within two months.

Molly Cooper, my brother's wife of no more than two years, is charming, patient, calm and benevolent. One of those few women you can find nowadays for a guy like Nicolas. None of us can understand why she put up with him so much when we were dating and now when we are married. She has been in the family since she was in high school with us. My grandfather even confessed to me back then what he thought about her:

»She's the best girl I've ever seen you with, Max. I like her a lot for you and I'm sure someday you two will end up together.

I shook my head in amusement at that assumption, for I knew that Molly and Nico were already together, even though their personalities were different and Molly's parents didn't approve.

I had introduced them, but seeing the damage my brother is causing her hurts me.

-Likewise, Maxwell -my grandmother's breathy voice pulls me out of my reverie-, if you just want to defeat your brother, show that you are capable of raising a family, of being more responsible and committed not only to work, but to life. Therefore, you should find a wife with your visions and qualities, who is aware of the family she will enter and get married next month. I would love you to fall in love first, like normal people do, honey, but if you don't have a deadline, like in business, you are not capable of doing it on your own. And I think you need someone to love.

-Marriage? -No, no, no, no. I'm not getting married, I'm too young and too smart for that. Besides, I'm not dating anyone enough to propose in a month.

-No problem, I have a list of women you could try. -Grandma smiles coaxingly as she winks at me and reaches into her small jacket pocket for several seconds. Here it is!

-I don't have time to date your friends' granddaughters, Grandma.

-You'll get it.

-Why? -I snapped haughtily.

-Because I say so -She replies, crossing her arms and advancing towards me at a slow, intimidating pace. And they're not granddaughters of friends, they're more hard-working women than that. Although there's also the option of you looking for your future wife.

-You can't force me. -I fold my arms like I did when I was little and fought with her because I didn't want to take a shower.

-You find a girl to marry or I decide who on this list will be the lucky one. You choose, I might even accept Govef.

Ariatna meets my gaze and smiles, I quickly shake my head in a way only noticeable to her.

-But... -Nico and I speak at the same time.

-No "but" at all. -She says, and without giving us any more time to reply, she walks towards the exit to leave the room.

After a moment of bitter silence, with my blood boiling and my desire to smash someone's face in; Nico is the first to speak:

-This is all your fault -he spits in my direction-, if you were more normal none of this would have happened, why can't you find someone to marry or at least pretend to be in a relationship, what are these atrocious flaws of yours that no woman can bear to be with you?

-Be more normal, be a scumbag like you? No thanks, I'd rather be dead. And for your information I don't have any flaws, I don't look like you except slightly physically and that's already a blessing. On the other hand, you should listen to grandma, Molly is a great woman and you, you piece of shit are driving her to the precipice with your masculine insecurities that lead you to be a cheating piece of shit.

-Go ahead, let him do it. It's the family weakness to throw yourself out of the window like our mother did...

And before Nico can finish the sentence, I throw myself at him with my face on fire with rage, my fists ready for contact with his face and I give him the first punch in the jaw, listening as it thunders and his teeth clash a couple of times, without waiting for him to react, I continue with the stomach, once, twice, three times, and then I hit him again in the face right in the left eye and then in the nose. He does the same after a few seconds with a closed fist on my cheek and then on both sides of my ribs, but not so hard or the adrenaline doesn't let me feel them, which is better for me because I can continue without any problem. It's been a long time since I've been in a fight with anyone, and the build-up of energy now exploding through my body shows me how much I needed it. After several minutes of time-lapse punching I lose all sense of who has hit whom the most as we are rolling across the marble floor space that is exposed between the carpets in the room. We stop for a moment to stand up, blood is coming out of my nose, I think I have a split cheek and maybe some internal bleeding from the sharp pain in my right side.

For his part, Nico looks bad, with a swollen eye, a bleeding mouth and difficulty in straightening up completely.

In the distance I hear Ariatna scream with a start:

-You bloody idiots, stop.

And the little ones chanting in unison:

-Fight, fight, fight, fight!

But neither of us pays any attention, our pride is in charge and incites us to continue throwing punches in the air until one or two manage to connect with the opponent, leaving him disconnected from reality for just a few moments.

-Maxwell, Nico, stop it! -my sister squeals once more, afraid to get between the two of them. For God's sake, stop it.

The loud thuds can be heard all over the room, with every movement we break everything in our path and fill more than one of the carpets with blood - hopefully not mine - as I watch Nico crawl across the floor and decide to throw one of the old ashtrays Grandpa used to use at him, not to hit him directly, but just to scare him. Nico stands up startled by how close I came to hitting him, reaching for anything available to defend himself and attack; from one of the broken legs of Grandma's little Victorian chair that is now scattered all over the living room, to the already strewn pokers and shattered lamps.

Neither of us saw what happened next coming until Ariatna's choked voice stopped the fight in its tracks:

-Shit!

We both turned in the direction of Ariatna's grim gaze towards the fireplace where the grandfather's painting had fallen, had a poker embedded right in the area of its mouth and was burning rapidly from the corners to the old man's face.

I raise my hands and bring them up to my face, repeating aloud to myself:

-You asshole. Asshole. Fucking asshole.

-You did that," Nico scolds.

I just choose to ignore him, still clutching my hands in fists I walk to the fireplace and lean over to pull out the painting, not caring about the burning of the fire on my skin. But it's too late, the fire is out.

-Ariatna, get the children out of the house -I say without turning to look at her.

–Get out of here, you bloody barbarians -Grandma shouts from the doorway.

«How long has she been there, has she seen everything?»

Her cracked voice breaks my heart even more and makes me feel like when I was a child and got into mischief in the forest.

Without paying attention to anyone around me, I watch Antonio trying to put out the fire that is now spreading to the curtains, I hear Ariatna telling her children to hurry to get out of that place and I see Nico pull grandma out even with the kicks and blows she is giving him while he complains in pain for the ones I had already given him, but I just stand there watching the mess I have made.

-Antonio, leave him alone. Get everyone out of the house and call 911 -I order.

-Sir... -He starts to protest, but seeing my impassive face, he decides to leave without another word.

I take my mobile phone out of my trouser pocket, with its broken screen and low battery, to dial my own emergency number.

Without waiting for the other end to answer, I speak:

-I'm fucking up. I need to see you in half an hour, ask for the keys to my flat at reception. I miss you, little one.

Likewise, before the battery died, he sent a message to my two best friends, Victor and Danilo:

«Urgent meeting at my flat in half an hour» .