Prince of Santa Monica

The opulent mansion directly overlooked Santa Monica Pier. Once or twice upon a time, Tony Quinn had wanted to invite a friend over if only just to see the lavish lifestyle of his family just before booting the friend back out into the coldness and emptiness of the impoverished. That had been had Dr. Anthony Quinn and acclaimed model, Moriah Quinn, had treated those whom they considered lesser than. However, they could do so no more. There were two cruel certains in the world; and one of those certain cruelties had removed Dr. Anthony Quinn and Moriah Quinn from their lavish lifestyles and from a world of "lesser-thans." There was no more question of comparisons of earthly wealth for them; their remaining concern now, if they were cognizant of grasping to one, would have been the destination of Heaven or Hell. Suddenly, their kingdom was unattended; save for the heir apparent to the family values and valuables...

The limo pulled up to the vaunted gated community. Robert Reader, chauffeur and long-time family butler, had left Anthony Quinn II well enough alone to sort his mind out from the backseat of the limousine. Tony could have gone immediately into any business that he wanted to and, on instant name recognition, could have been a success. He chose the social role of attending college instead; then had attended college in Cambridge rather than close to home and the family's affairs and affluence.

The limo was now stopped at the gates. Tony Quinn reflected back on his parents and their values; the very sheltered existence he had always known. They had been ready to cut him off from his adult allowance when he chose to attend university; especially at Cambridge rather than Stanford. Now, his adult allowance was no longer shoestringed away from him. He had back his allowance and more for as long as he wanted them. He was the sole possessor of the family coffers now. He could...

"...Anthony Junior, sir." the chauffeur's voice interrupted anymore disparaging daydreams.

"Tony, Robert." Tony reminded the butler for the umpteenth time.

"Very good, sir." Robert answered without officially correcting the record. "We have arrived home, sir. The family estate is yours."

That last sentiment still resonated with Tony as an opulent, succulent, tantalizing fever dream. The family estate, and all of its amenities, had to go to someone. That someone was none other than the Prince of the Quinn dynasty...

"Are there any questions for me, sir, as we complete our journey home?" Robert asked.

The butler and chauffeur was always so kind and inviting to the young heir that Tony just had to honor him with an interrogative.

"...Was it a nice celebration of life, Robert?" he asked, innocently.

Robert almost smiled that Tony Jr. had at least called it a "Celebration of Life." Those would have been his parents' words too. It was nice to hear them out of their orphaned son and the head of the family estate. Besides, had it been Tony's fault that the untimely community illness had taken his parents during the same hour as midterms week at university?

"It was quite a celebration of two lives well lived, sir." Robert deadpanned. "Your aunts, uncle, and your cousins were all in attendance. Your ill-stricken grandfather from your mother's side managed to make it. Yes, it was quite the gathering of local celebutantes to honor one of their own; and political officials to remember your father."

Tony doubted that every devious debutante had arrived at the funeral as a mere mourning friend to his mother and he and Robert shared that doubt. However, if the butler, in all of his family loyalty, wasn't going to mention it, the heir apparent could keep mum as well.

"I should have been there." Tony observed, glancing out the window as a light rain began to fall.

The family butler and close confidant nodded silently.

"You are here now, my boy." Robert observed. "Please; the reading of the will shall begin in the house in a few moments. The family is expecting you."

With that, the rear door of the limo electronically unlatched and obediently slid open. The gated community mansion that had never felt like home to Tony growing up was his personal castle now. Tony Quinn Jr. emerged from his vehicle to stand in the mild shower for a moment and survey his kingdom.

"Shall I assist you with your bags, sir?" Robert's voice penetrated his thoughts once more.

Tony snapped back to the reality of a mild misting for a moment and, unlike his late father before him, took two of his own bags from college. The butler appreciated the sentiment where even the heir was handling some of his own bagging and he lifted two final suitcases of University essentials. "Prince" Tony of Quinn was home to stay now; Cambridge was a memory...

Tony reentered the family mansion to find two of his cousins milling about the manor. Their parents, Uncle Joseph and Aunt Jody, were keeping an eye on their young charges of Joshua and Jordin. His grandfather, Clark Gorson (his late mother's father), was the only person in the mansion in a mask as the person most susceptible to the illness right now; the very illness that had taken Dr. Anthony Quinn and Moriah Gorson-Quinn. A few local picturesque celebutantes, friends of the late Moriah, were in the mansion too and, once they determined that Tony had arrived, they graced him with practiced pouts of pity. One even massaged Tony's shoulder; and he hadn't minded the touch of the famous minx. The Governor of California and Mayor of Santa Monica were even in the mansion to witness the proceedings and the handing over of power. Tony Quinn, college freshman and heir apparent, had arrived...

The mayor and governor spotted the butler escorting Tony into the vestibule shortly after the celebutante had taken her hand off of the young, grieving heir's shoulder. They then remembered what had cost the parents their lives (and that the grandfather was in presence) as they reached for a pair of masks that they hadn't needed a moment before. However, they then thought better of it when not even Tony was wearing the mask and they cast aside the idea of "Mask Theater." This event was about something deeper than the sickness...

Josh spotted Tony and wanted to make a good impression while Jordin was busily cataloging and inventorying their late aunt and uncle's estate. Josh approached his cousin and extended a congenial handshake. Tony understood the youth's need to exchange pleasantries now of all times and at least his sister was being visibly honest. However, the now sole owner of the estate clasped his cousin's hand in his own and the two shook hands, palm-on-palm.

Jordin snapped to attention when Jody corralled her daughter and pointed sternly at the entering heir. The teen girl then put on a practiced sniffle for her dearly departed aunt and uncle and embraced her cousin. Tony understood and could appreciate the approach as he gave her a squeeze in return.

Thus, brought on Uncle Joe and Aunt Jody.

"Hell of a circumstance, young man." Joe greeted his nephew with a firm handshake of his own.

"So sorry for your loss!" Jody sobbed next, embracing Tony.

"Thank you; thank you all for coming." Tony answered.

Behind him, Robert pretended to check his watch; but mouthed "The celebration."

"Thank you for representing the family at the celebration of life." Tony added.

"Yes, of course, dear!" Jody answered as though she were surprised by the expression of gratitude for what should have been expected of family.

"Yes, my boy; we know that college happens and all of that." Uncle Joe added. "But family is still blood."

"Thicker than water; and no excuse to be waylaid in Massachusetts." Tony maintained as though he and his uncle saw eye-to-eye there. He hadn't recalled Uncle Joe and his family being all that huge on family values when Anthony Quinn Sr. and Moriah Quinn-Gorson had been alive and well and before the family estate was on the table. Only one person had ever truly held the family together throughout his life; and his surname was never even Quinn...

Tony excused himself from present company so that he and Robert could share their respects with Clark Gorson, situated in his wheelchair and properly adorned in a mask to defend him from the illness. Tony almost honored his grandfather by putting on a mask of his own but A) he hadn't remembered it before, B) it was because he was healthy and didn't require it in his own home of the family mansion, and C) Clark Gorson hated "theatrical" mask wearing where the face covering came and went for social political points.

Tony finished his journey over to his grandfather's wheelchair and he knelt across from the surviving family patriarch; a man who, were he anticipated longer to live, would have received the family estate. Tony clasped his grandfather's hand in his own and the two of them shook.

"Thank you for coming, grandfather." Tony declared.

Clark gave a wheezing, sputtering, feeble cough through his mask that reminded Tony how very grateful he was that the rest of the guests were protected.

"I could do no less, my boy." Clark managed. "My darling daughter would have wanted me in attendance."

Tony understood the veiled message by now and he tired of it. Everyone else in attendance was thinking the same and only Robert had had the guts to mention it. Instead, Clark understood where he had overstepped his bounds and backtracked on his original statement.

"Look at them, lad." he maintained.

The disgust in his voice confused his grandson. Nonetheless, Tony complied.

"The family?" he asked.

"No!" Clark snapped. "The--The--harlots!"

Tony took in the attractive celebutantes having graced his mansion. He was a young bachelor with an opulent mansion now and it wouldn't be the last time that greedy, golden-haired golddiggers found their way in.

"They were friends of mother's, grandfather." Tony explained.

Clark scoffed and threw his head back with a chortle.

"Your grandfather is not a daft old gentleman, Anthony; those harlots are not here for your mother any more than the political charlatans are!" Clark declared. "This is an hour for family; not theater. Your mother once understood the proper time for either."

It was Tony's turn to bite back a derisive snort; this time, about the deceased and right in front of her grieving father. Moriah Quinn, the Belle of the Ball, the prettiest woman in California, was to understand the difference between family and theater!

The governor began clinking his glass and Clark seemed to understand that his time to hold an unwelcome opinion was up. He snorted once more and scooted away.

"Congratulations, son." he added before he was out of earshot.

Tony smiled back warmly and righted himself once more. His father had a few months left on Earth; he'd grow to understand.

"Hear me, HEAR ME!" the governor boomed. "We are here today in Quinn Manor to honor a pair of lives cut far too short in Dr. Anthony Quinn and the vivacious Moriah too. The illness robs us not only of our poor; but our wealthy deserving of far better as well...!"

A tinge of disgust flowed through Tony at the misfortunate words. He had heard the exact same statement from his father so many times before; and not as an unfortunate misspeak. In front of Tony, the mayor seemed to understand where the governor had failed and took the podium.

"We are hear tonight to transfer the title, and all of the Quinn fortune, over to one man." the mayor declared. "Anthony Quinn Jr., step forward."

Robert led the family in polite applause. The intruding celebutantes went into ecstasy as though the heir apparent had won one of their coveted Entertainment Awards. Tony reached the podium and tagged the mayor on a shoulder as he leaned in for confidentiality.

"Tony." he amended.

With that, he faced his crowd. Tony Quinn Jr. was home...

***************************

The key to the Master Bedroom still fit perfectly. The Master Bedroom itself, however, just didn't fit Tony's needs; yet. He dropped off his luggage for a moment and made a sweeping glance over the room.

"Welcome home, sir." Robert's voice penetrated his thoughts once more.

Tony almost jumped in shock. Naturally, after everyone else had left, faithful Robert Reader would make sure that he was settled.

"Mr. Cambridge Man," Robert began again as his own Cambridge Class Pin sparkled from his collar, "will you celebrate your newfound good fortune with friends from campus over Summer holidays? The promise of such wealth and prestige worked wonders for me when I first came on board in service to your grandfather, Dene Quinn."

Tony turned to face Robert with a small smile on his face.

"It entices me." he admitted. "After the family's estate now helps the homeless."

"Sir?" Robert asked, aghast.

"We have many guest bedrooms, Robert." Tony continued. "Can we not open one or two of them for one or two nights to aid the downtrodden of the community?"

Robert smiled back at Tony with a glint of a proud tear in his eye.

"I shall take the liberty of locking up the china and silver then until such a time when you are entertaining personal guests." Robert declared. "Good night, sir; and welcome home."

"Good night, Robert." Tony answered as the door to the Master Chamber closed behind the butler to allow the master of the house to revel of his new status in peace...