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By S. A. Barton

Copyright 2012 S. A. Barton

Smashwords Edition

Find other stories by S.A. Barton on his Smashwords profile.

Katrina and I were married on the day the sun began to dim. The ceremony was small but impeccably catered, held on a private beach just north of La Serena on the coast of Chile, on the beach outside the vacation home my father had loved so much before a charter jet crash had claimed him and mother five years ago. My father had built his millions mostly the hard way, starting from half a dozen run-down Buffalo duplexes his father had left him, and though he pinched a mean penny when it came to maintenance expenses, he would have insisted on a huge and lavish ceremony for the marriage of his only son. Something lavish and gauche. My sister Rosemary and I had different tastes, but we were on the same page when it came to one thing: we cared far less than father for showing off our wealth.

My sister made the time to attend, though running the family rental empire demanded an enormous amount of her time. For my marriage, though, she had flown in for two days, leaving business in the capable hands of her husband Dan. Despite her physical attendance, I noted sourly, she was barely present, her cell phone glued to her ear half the time, leaving its little belt pouch empty and forlorn with only the two spare battery pouches beside it for company. She thrived on business, on busy-ness in general, and I hated it—which was why I had asked her to buy out the half of the properties dad left me, and why I was free to spend a month cruising up and down the Pacific waters off the coast of South America.

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