Date: June 4th, 2440 Time: 7:15 PM CST
“This is not quite what I expected,” Marie said, swirling her wine.
“The music or the wine?” Matt asked, quietly proud that someone had installed V’ren dampening tech and laid out lounge areas across the road from his private amusement park. The band was good, the wine was chilled, and the V’ren shimmered in the twilight like an alien spring formal.
What the crowd didn’t know: three unauthorized drones had already been knocked out of the sky. One had come terrifyingly close to Angelina. The operators, whoever they were, would be dealt with—Matt just hadn’t decided if the punishment would be reputational ruin, financial annihilation, or something with more impact.
Across the road, the press mingled in high spirits. A hundred had been selected by lottery from a paid pool that more than covered the night’s costs.
“Both,” Marie admitted, scandalizing every Yankee bone in her patrician body. “I just didn’t expect whites like this in Missouri.”
“We usually have to import most of our whites,” Matt deadpanned.
The locals cackled. The New Englanders didn’t.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Marie backtracked.
“If you had, we’d have let you know,” Angelina said sweetly. The night was too lovely to bait the social snob.
“Anyway, we’ve all met your kids,” Dave added. “They’re good kids, not the kind we brace ourselves for when someone says they’re ‘from Boston.’ Polly even tried milking goats at the Hart farm.”
“The parent in me is a little shocked I didn’t stress over where my kids were today,” Marie admitted. “Whatever else Missouri is, I approve of that.”
“What happened to Kevin?” Matt asked.
“I put him to work in the kitchen,” Angelina said. “He wanted to drive a tractor, but I thought that could wait. Rumor has it he asked one of our V’ren girls to the fair tonight.”
“Really,” Matt and Marie said in perfect sync—earning the best laugh of the night.
“I’m more tuned into teen gossip than you, Matt? That’s a first,” Angelina smirked.
“So, what about my eldest daughter?”
“She’s off with my eldest,” Angelina said—hoping the conversation would move on. She’d walked in on the two of them making out and still hadn’t recovered.
“I thought they were out at the Hart farm?”
“They were,” Angelina said. “Until Kinsey mentioned Kevin was kind of cute.”
“I’m sure that set Alex off,” Leonard muttered from his rocker, sipping beer.
“Did anyone warn Alex about MJ?” Matt asked.
“Warn her about what?” Marie’s tone sharpened.
“That MJ prefers to kiss girls,” Matt said casually, not missing a beat.
Leonard coughed into his beer but recovered. “Me too,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t see that coming,” he added with a shake of his head—more surprised than disapproving.
“I did,” Matt said. “And I’ll be more surprised if it didn’t happen before lunch. Alex is the cute new girl—that’s prime MJ interest. I won’t be shocked if she’s kissed half the girls in her class before graduation.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Dave laughed. Annie shrugged. He lost a dollar.
“You already lost,” Floyd said, plucking the bill from his hand.
Angelina, still not fully over Marie’s wine comment, waited for the right moment. As glasses were lifted—“At least they won’t get pregnant.”
A chorus of sputtering followed.
Matt picked it up smoothly: “Anyway… producing crisp whites around here is tough. This one’s from vineyards near Lake of the Ozarks—part of the family trust. We’ve had issues, though. I spotted hundreds of wallabies and a few dozen zebra on the north shore this morning. Too close to the crop.”
“Wallabies? Zebras?” Marie asked, blinking.
“Yep,” Floyd said. “Plague years. Every roadside zoo and private menagerie dumped their animals. The heartland’s got everything that can survive.”
“This area’s secure,” Matt added. “We keep watch. And we eat the dangerous ones.”
Across the field, the first wave of guests approached: press, V’ren dignitaries, family, and staff. Matt smiled. Kevin hadn’t wasted the opportunity. Angelina had placed him exactly where he’d learn—and maybe impress.
“Let’s go meet the new arrivals,” Matt said, rising.
