Pop: Chapter 10a

    "I didn't know you even had my landline, Thad"  Things must be bad if he had to use my last resort.

    "Well, I tried your cell, then Sam's, and I even tried you father.  What else could I do?  This could become an emergency."

    "Dad's rarely up this early any more, although he should be waking up soon so he can get here for the dinner in time.  Sam usually has his phone, even this early, but he doesn't seem to have it right now." At the mention of his name, Sam perks up then shrugs his shoulders and goes back to eating.

    "I used my phone at lot last night.  It needed to charge more.  What's this 'emergency' that is happening?"

    Thad continues. "Did you ever get to watch you Today interview?"

    "A little of it.  From what I saw, they cut most of the Addie portion.  Why?"

    "Well, The New York Times has a piece of that interview, as well as Tuesday's on CBS.  Basically, they are saying you're only famous because of your family's money, and these 'puff pieces' (I could all but tell Thad was using air-quotes.) just proves it.  To emphasize their point, they reprinted an editorial your father wrote on pop culture and its effects on greater society."

    "Wait, Dad wrote for The New York Times?! When, how did that happen?"

    "He wrote some art reviews and some historical pieces about twenty years ago on shows and museum exhibits.  Apparently, this article on pop culture was originally written about some controversial artist or something.  Much of it is out of context, but that made it work for your novel somehow."

    "My family's money.  I didn't even know about my family until four years ago.  Sure, I had a nice little account, but I thought that it was from my grandmother.  I didn't know she had been hoarding it away from me.  I definitely didn't know it was from my Dad's family. And I used an online handle when I first posted my fan fiction. No one knew who I was or what my family had.  Even when I signed my contracts, the 'Burton' family name didn't make a difference.  Our heyday was years ago.  Sure, it may have meant something once, but no longer."

    I take another look at Sam.  If only I could tell him exactly what it meant to be a 'Burton,' maybe he wouldn't be acting out.  I've got to talk to Dad about Sam.  Sam needs to know the truth.

    "Chris, are you still there?"  Thad asks.

    "Sorry.  What has to be done?"

    "I've sent you the editorial, as well as the excerpts from your father's piece.  I'm going to handle things at this end, but I think you will have to have a formal response.  The publisher will be issuing something later on today.  I'll try to coordinate things so that we share the same message.   I know you have your rehearsal dinner tonight, but try to have something this evening."

    "It might not be long, but I'll try."

    "Good.  And make sure your phone's available next time.  I'm out."

    "Good-bye," Thad had already ended the call.  I don't think he even heard me.

    I put down the receiver and head back to the kitchen.  Sam has already started on his second serving. He has to be going through another growth spurt at the rate he's eating.