Doped

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A narcissist finds love by putting others first.
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komrad1156
komrad1156
3,782 Followers

*Note to readers: I don't have children in school, but I do have tremendous concerns with education in America. I believe the entire system needs to be dismantled and rebuilt from the ground up, but also believe that will never happen for a variety of reasons. I can't even touch on all of the problems or why I see them as concerns let alone offer proposed solutions as this is a forum for love, romance, and sex, not social issues.

Very briefly, I feel a 'trades track' would be one of the most important as would school choice. There are many good schools in this country, but I contend they are good in spite of, and not because of, the overall system which is abysmal, imho. Those two things however, are just the tip of the iceberg.

Regardless of the overall state of education, I find the propensity to drug children alarming. Yes, many of them are behavioral challenges without drugs like Ritalin and Adderall, but if we changed the system entirely, there would be very little (if any) need to dope children. Again, imho.

Lastly, my comments are not an indictment on the vast majority of teachers who are very dedicated, hard-working people struggling to educate our children in spite of the system that often makes it a very difficult task.

******

"Please tell me this is temporary. It is, right? You can't possibly be thinking of staying there."

"I assume so, but until we go home and find out, I won't know for sure," he told her.

"Home? That's not my home. In fact, it's not even yours anymore. This is your home because it's our home. We live in Palo Alto. That means our home is here—in California. What we're doing is going back to Seattle so you can collect your inheritance. The very next day we're on a plane back to civilization." She paused then said sharply, "Right?"

Wyatt Hall, Senior, had just passed away. He was a very wealthy and influential man known by everyone who was anyone in the Seattle-Tacoma area and most of western Washington state. He was shrewd, cunning, and ruthless in business, and as a father, he was harsh, distant, and cold. Wyatt, Junior, therefore, couldn't wait to leave for college and started during the summer term just to get away after graduating from high school a little over six years ago.

Although his father footed the bill for his college education at Stanford University in Palo Alto, California, he was for all practical purposes, free and clear of the insane asylum he'd previously called home. In addition to tuition, room and board, Wyatt received a generous monthly allowance which he freely spent in an effort to establish his own life and an identity separate from that of his father.

Wyatt was an excellent student who thoroughly enjoyed learning and whose academic performance was superb. He also happened to be a very good-looking young man who loved to party and play. With those combined attributes, he could essentially sleep with as many different attractive women and girls as he desired, and he desired a lot of them the entire four years he was an undergraduate.

That continued during his first year in graduate school, but sometime during his second year, he reached burnout when it came to hooking up. The faces were now nothing but an endless blur and he found himself desperately wanting this thing people referred to as 'a relationship'. He'd never had one of his own nor had he ever seen one successfully modeled for him. Therefore, he had no idea what it would look like. He only knew he was sick and tired of playing musical chairs with women in his bed. He certainly couldn't look to his parents as role models to see what a real relationship was like, so he wandered off into uncharted territory in search of something he craved but had never before seen or experienced.

His father was indeed cold and distant, but his mother was no help, either, as she'd suffered from bi-polar disorder all his life and his father had had her institutionalized his junior year of high school. He went to see her every time he went 'home' for a visit, but she barely recognized him. She wasn't catatonic, but she was so out of it from the massive amounts of medications they fed her twice a day that she did little more than sit in bed or perhaps a chair staring blankly into space as he tried to tell her what he'd been doing since the last time she saw him.

He barely knew his little sister, Sadie, who was now eleven. By the time she was in Kindergarten, Sadie had been 'diagnosed' with something called ADHD or Attention Deficit Hyper-Activity Disorder. As a result, Sadie was being given Ritalin and Adderall twice each day, making her little more than a functional zombie.

She wasn't as detached as his mother by any means. She was even able to attend school—private school—with the aid of a full-time nanny. Wyatt had no real relationship with sister, and because of the drugs, it was essentially fruitless to even try. Sadie was buried somewhere deep inside the walking-dead body, and Wyatt had never really seen her.

Three days ago he'd received a phone call from his father's personal attorney, Randolf Crane, a nice enough man Wyatt had met several times before. "As the executor of your father's will I'm legally required to inform you that all financial support is being terminated immediately," he'd informed Wyatt, Jr.

That first bit of news hit Wyatt like a bolt of lightning. He'd finally found someone and was in what he considered to be a committed relationship. Even though it often seemed to have more downs that ups, he found this preferable to his former way of life. His new girlfriend appeared to be content to stay with him, and from Wyatt's perspective, that was what a relationship was all about—staying together.

Brooke Levinson was a 22-year old former model he met via a friend from the local area who'd gone to Stanford with him while living at home in Palo Alto. He told Wyatt he had a younger sister he wanted to introduce him to in the hopes she might settle down herself after Wyatt mentioned his desire to move beyond the endless one-night stands.

Much like Wyatt, she'd 'gone off the reservation' after leaving home, only in her case she didn't have college (or anything else) to anchor her. She was young, gorgeous, and making money. Not big money but more than she'd ever had and she spent every dollar she made partying hardy with people she thought were her friends and sleeping around with any good-looking guy who caught her fancy.

Not surprisingly, she'd gotten pregnant at 21 and even though she'd had an abortion, rumors quickly spread that she was out of control. As a result she was no longer getting calls from her agent. Gone were the local commercials and photo shoots that had been her bread and butter and along with them, the money she so desperately craved.

Broke and back home, she found herself reluctantly looking for visible means of support. When she learned from her brother that Wyatt had money—and a lot of it—Brooke happily agreed to meet him and agree to a first date, during which she'd casually mentioned to him she didn't care one way or the other about money.

It hadn't hurt that he was as handsome as anyone she'd ever dated, so as long as he had a steady source of income and treated her reasonably well, Brooke Levinson was more than willing to not only be exclusive but move in with him when Wyatt asked her to do so two months later.

She also couldn't complain about the mind-blowing sex which she loved and wanted as much as him. All in all, Wyatt Hall was a literal and figurative goldmine and she fully intended to ride this gravy train for all it was worth.

"Wyatt? Did you hear me?" Brooke asked.

"Yeah, sure. Listen babe, I don't really know. All I know is I have to go home for some kind of formal reading of the will."

"And then we'll get our money, right?"

Our money? Wyatt looked at her and for the first time began to see her for what she was. In spite of her physical beauty, he didn't much care for what he was seeing.

"Again, I can't say for sure, but yeah, that sounds about right."

"How much do you think we'll be getting?" she asked ever-so sweetly as she came over and sat on his lap.

Wyatt really had no idea how much his father was worth. In fact, he didn't even have an educated guess. He'd always assumed it was in the tens of millions, but the honest truth was he couldn't answer her question.

"I don't know that, either," he admitted.

"But it's at least several million, right?" she asked as she ran her hand around his face.

"We'll know in a couple of days, okay?" he said trying not to sound as annoyed as he was becoming.

Temporarily satisfied, Brooke stopped asking questions and finally decided to pack for the trip.

Two days later, they landed at Sea-Tac International airport where Randolf and a driver met them in one of Wyatt Sr's., limousines.

"Welcome home, Wyatt," Randolf said extending his hand and a smile.

"It's good to see you again, Randolf," he told him. "This is my girlfriend, Brooke Levinson."

Believing he held her financial future in her hands, Brooke smiled warmly and hugged the older man as though doing so would somehow influence Mr. Hall's will which was already set in stone.

When they arrived at the expansive, gated residence, one of his late father's staff met them and moved all of the their luggage to their second-floor suite while Randolf invited them to the very spacious home office for a drink.

"We're just waiting for your sister to get home from school and then we can begin." It was 3pm and Sadie was due home any minute.

As they sipped the 30-year old Scotch, Brooke asked Randolf, "So how long do you anticipate this taking?"

"Well, the reading will only take a few minutes," he told her. "Then I'll need to clarify a few things, get a decision on how to proceed from Wyatt, and depending on what he tells me, he'll need to sign several documents."

"So we could be done this afternoon then, right?" she asked pressing the issue.

"Hypothetically, yes," was all he said.

There was a quiet knock followed by an older woman stepping inside. Wyatt turned around and recognized Sadie's nanny, followed by the appearance of his younger sister coming in behind her.

"Sadie, do you remember your brother, Wyatt?" the nanny asked as she brought her over to them.

"Yes." She stared at her brother then said, "My daddy died." She spoke without emotion not understanding his father had died, too.

"I know. I'm very sorry," Wyatt told her. Her eyes seemed lifeless; her face expressionless.

"Is this your kid sister?" Brooke asked. "The one who's stoned all the time?"

All of the adults looked at her, but no one spoke.

"What?" she said defensively. "It's true, isn't it? Just look at her?" Brooke snapped her fingers in front of Sadie's face several times and the little girl didn't even blink. "See? Stoned is the perfect word."

Sadie sat next to them on a long, leather couch and Randolf said, "Okay, let's go ahead and begin." As he'd told them, it only took a couple of minutes to read the will.

"Um...I don't get that," Brooke said immediately. "What exactly did that mean?"

"As I was saying Miss Levinson, this requires some explanation. Please allow me to translate from legalese into English."

"I get it," Wyatt said bitterly. "He just fucked me."

"What? What do you mean by that?" Brooke wanted to know. "What's going on here? Will someone please tell me what all of this means?"

Randolf waited patiently for her to finish then said, "What this means is that Mr. Hall's inheritance is on hold until..."

"Oh hold? Okay, what in the hell does that mean—on hold? For how long?"

"Brooke, please. Let him finish," Wyatt said tersely even though he knew exactly what it meant.

"Wyatt, Junior, will have access to one million dollars..."

"Thank God!" Brooke said. "That should last us for a couple of years or so right, baby?"

Again, Randolf sat and waited. When Brooke finally looked back at him he continued, "He'll have access to one million dollars which may be used only for living expenses as noted in Appendix 1, to maintain the primary residence as set forth in Appendix 2, and to care for his sister, Sadie, as set forth in Appendix 3. Should Mr. Hale refuse to accept these terms, he will receive a one-time payment of $50,000 and there shall be no further financial compensation."

"What the fuck?" Brooke said standing up.

"Sit down, Brooke," Wyatt said angrily before noticing Sadie staring at him.

"Okay, and if I accept my father's terms?" he asked the attorney.

"Should you fulfill the terms as outlined in the will, then one year from today, you will receive the entirety of Wyatt Hall, Senior's, estate."

"So we can go home and just write checks for the house and the kid and stuff, right?" Brooke said. "Then in a year we'll be rich."

"No, it doesn't work like that," Wyatt told her.

"So...how does it work?" she demanded to know.

Randolf explained. "Wyatt will be required to live here the entire time and personally manage the residence to include maintenance, taxes, the staff, payroll, etc. In addition, he must personally care for his sister to include, but not limited to her health, education, and general welfare."

"You have got to be shitting me!" Brooke said. "I'm not staying in this...this city! I told you we live in California, Wyatt. Do something!"

He turned to and spoke as sternly as he ever had. "Brooke? Go upstairs and finish your drink. Have a second if you like. But give me some time with Randolf, okay?"

She, in turn, was angrier than he'd ever seen her before. She slammed the drink down sloshing the contents all over the expense teak furniture and said, "Fine. I'll go upstairs. I'll go upstairs and pack! I'm not staying in this shit hole no matter how fancy the toilet is!"

Wyatt knew she wouldn't leave. It was all theater. It was just Brooke being a drama queen. She'd quickly realize there was a huge pot of gold at the end of the year-in-Seattle rainbow and he knew she'd be willing to eat many yards of shit to get to it.

The problem was he wasn't sure he wanted her beside him anymore while he did the waiting. As he looked over at Sadie, he wasn't even sure he wanted to wait. Well, it wasn't the waiting, per se, it was having to babysit a kid he didn't even know and quite frankly had no interest in getting to know. Yes, she was legally his sister, but otherwise he didn't know a thing about her beyond her age and that she was constantly being doped up.

Randolf watched Brooke storm out then told Wyatt, "For the first week, Sadie's nanny will continue full-time teaching you how to do everything for which she is currently responsible. After that, she will receive the equivalent of one year's salary and a letter of recommendation. I will also continue to administer the estate and run the house for a period of 30 days. During that time I'll show you everything that needs to be done then turn all responsibility over to you. You may consult me at any time as your attorney, but I will not be able to do anything other than offer you advice." He paused then said, "I should note it will be my sole determination one year hence as to whether or not you have fulfilled your obligations."

Still smoldering inside, Wyatt said, "What's to prevent you from saying I didn't and keep the money for yourself."

Randolf smiled but didn't laugh. "There is no money for me outside of a guaranteed salary for the next year and a severance similar to the nanny's. In other words, my compensation is the same whether you succeed or fail. I can assure you I have no vested interest in anything but being wholly impartial." He waited for a moment then said, "Your one-year begins tomorrow assuming of course, you'll be staying. You're to think this over carefully tonight and inform me of your decision in the morning. I have two sets of forms for you to sign depending on your decision. Is there anything else you'd care to ask, Mr. Hall?"

Wyatt looked at him then at Sadie then back at Randolf. "No, you've been your usual thorough self, Mr. Crane. I'll let you know in the morning."

The nanny took Sadie's hand and said, "Come along, dear. We have a lot to do before dinner."

As she stood up, Sadie looked at him and said, "Goodbye, Wyatt."

He was more than a little surprised to hear her call him by his name, something she'd never done before. It almost made him see her as a real person. He watched her leave, shook Randolf's hand and thanked him, then made his way upstairs expecting an all-out brawl with Brooke.

Her ability to survive had been finely honed and she'd already cut through the chaff and realized that any hope of her sharing in her boyfriend's wealth required staying, and staying required an immediate change of attitude. She'd flipped the switch and smiled when he walked in.

"You know, Seattle isn't all that bad," she said. "I might even learn to enjoy living here provided I can fly home occasionally until our year-long sentence is up."

Wyatt not only wasn't convinced this change was genuine, he was certain she was a kind of human chameleon, capable of adapting to virtually any environment if it meant money in the end. Well, a lot of money, that is.

"You understand that staying means raising Sadie, right?" he said throwing out a first trial balloon.

He saw her grimace then say, "It's only for a year, right? We can stand on our heads for a year, can't we?"

He was sure she'd break that code, too, and rather quickly. One didn't accept legal responsibility for a minor child then easily relinquish it. "I'm tired of it, Your Honor," wasn't the kind of thing that caused a judge to say, "Oh, okay. You're off the hook." No, this would be at least seven more years of commitment if not more. Wyatt knew it and he had no doubt Brooke would, too. The only thing he wasn't sure of was what kind of scheme she'd try and implement to prevent Sadie from impacting her life or more aptly 'harshing her mellow.'

The following morning Wyatt told Randolf he was willing to accept all of the conditions in his father's will. Even a year ago, he wasn't sure he could have done this, but this past year had brought changes born of a lot of reflection. Wyatt had lived exclusively for himself his entire life. He'd never sacrificed anything—not time, not money—nothing—for anyone but himself. He knew that was part of this change; this desire to settle down. Doing it like this wasn't anything he'd have wished for, but it was the hand he'd been dealt. So in the back of his mind it was becoming clear that Sadie would become a big part of his life while it seemed almost as clear Brooke's role in it would begin to wane.

"Okay, Wyatt. Just sign here, here, and here," Randolf said. "I'll have these filed at the county courthouse this morning and they will be legally binding. Actually, your signature alone has made them binding so..."

"So we're officially babysitters now," they heard Brooke say as she walked in unexpectedly.

"Um, yeah. Looks that way," Wyatt said.

"Miss Levinson? Legally, you have no responsibility in any of this. Wyatt is now Sadie's sole legal guardian and he alone is 100% responsible for her welfare. I'm sure he'll appreciate any and all assistance you might care to offer, but I must be perfectly clear here. This is not a shared responsibility."

"Okay. I get it. Besides how hard can it be to take care of a little zombie?" Brooke held her arms out in front of herself and took a few steps imitating the way they were portrayed in old movies.

Neither of the men laughed while Wyatt shook his head in disgust.

"What? You're suddenly all politically correct? A joke isn't even funny anymore?" she said incredulously.

"A joke is funny, Brooke. That's not funny. It's...cruel," Wyatt said as he briskly walked right passed her.

komrad1156
komrad1156
3,782 Followers