Page 96 - Too Much and Never Enough - Mary L. Trump

In the summer of 1975, Donald gave a press conference during which he presented a rendering of the architect’s plans for the Grand Hyatt, as if he’d already won the contract to replace the old Commodore Hotel next door to Grand Central Terminal on 42nd Street. The media printed his claims as fact.
That same summer, just before Fritz and I were scheduled to leave for camp, Dad had told Mom that he had some news. She invited him to dinner. I answered the door when Dad rang the bell. He was wearing what he almost always wore—black slacks and a white dress shirt—but his clothes were crisp and his hair was slicked back. I had never seen him look so handsome.
While Mom tossed the salad, Dad grilled the steak on our small terrace. When the food was ready, we sat at the small table next to the terrace, propping the door open so the mild summer breeze could blow in. We drank water and iced tea.
“I’m moving to West Palm Beach at the end of the summer,” he told us. “I found a great apartment on the Intracoastal with a dock in the back.” He already had a boat picked out, and when we visited, he’d take us fishing and waterskiing. As he spoke, he seemed happy and confident—and relieved. All of us knew it was the right decision; for the first time in a very long time, we felt hope.