It’s beyond me how he can believe I’ll be able to have a conversation after news that has floored me. But maybe by conversation, he means he’ll do the talking. If that’s the case, there’s no telling whether I can hear him out, but I’m willing to try, even if the room is closing in on me and my confused senses lead me to think I’m underwater right now.
I lift the whiskey to my lips, tilt the glass all the way, and take a gulp as though this serving is only one shot. Then I give him a nod.
Pops tops up my glass with the bottle the server left us. “I’ve broached this topic on numerous occasions before, son, but given this news about my health, I feel it warrants another concerted attempt. I don’t want to leave you unprepared or alone in this world. If that happens, it means I haven’t done my job right, or honored your parents by helping you to be the man we all believe you have the potential to become. You know where this is going, but I’ll come right out and say it again. It’s time, son. Time to start taking the reins of Steele Industries, time to find someone special, get married and settle down. And the crazy kickbox fighting thing you do wherever it is that you go…it needs to stop.”
His lips are moving but nothing he’s just said is registering in my brain right now. Still, I know the gist. He may believe it’s fine to follow that massive confession about his life now having an expiration date with his wishes for me to grow up and settle down, but this is not the time or place. “I want to talk about how we fight this, Pops. You can’t give up so easily. Money’s no object. If we put our heads together we can beat this.”
My grandfather raises one eyebrow and leans back in his chair. “You don’t quite realize how lonely you are, son,” he tells me without so much as acknowledging what I said about fighting this thing. “You aren’t a kid anymore. When I was twenty-nine, I was married, your father was five years old, and me and my brother, God rest his soul, were elbows deep in aviation fluid, building Steele Industries from nothing. I didn’t ask you to grow up at twelve, or nineteen. But now, it’s time. You’re old enough to take on more responsibility, to experience more of what life has to offer. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Find a nice girl, start a family of your own, and really take over the company.”
“This… this is all insane.”
“I understand it might seem that way to you now.” His overly patient tone isn’t helping. “But you must see why I want this for you. You deserve the best, your own little piece of happiness.” He leans in closer as if he’s about to whisper a secret to me. “As it stands today, you’re fixing to only get the crumbs in my will, boy. Your unwillingness to transition to full on adulthood, it doesn’t give me peace of mind.”
“I can’t rely on anyone or anything to make me happy. Not a woman, not a business I have absolutely no passion for, and certainly not the money and assets of your will.”
He reaches for his whiskey and his knuckles go white around the glass. “You’re not thinking straight. You millennials tend to have a problem, the way you refuse to put a value on starting off with an easier life. You think I want you to scrimp and sacrifice the way I had to? Because I’ll tell you right now, you won’t enjoy that life. Look, everything I have, everything I’ve built, I want you to have it. There’s a but coming, though. And that is, I don’t want you to squander it or neglect it to the point where you’re starting over from the bottom of the barrel five years from now. And as for finding someone special, don’t fool yourself. You might think being a loner is good for you, but no one knows more than I do that you’ll be happier, more driven, more alive with someone by your side.”
“This is not the time,” I bark. “You know that, right?”
“Don’t raise your voice at me,” he snaps back. “Not here. I get it. This isn’t what you expected, but work with me here.”
“Sorry, I just... I need a minute.”
I push my chair back and walk out the front doors for some air to clear my head and think this through. He wants me to process the worst news of my adult life on a dime and move onto his favorite topics, but I don’t know how to start processing it all.
My grandfather is dying.
He’s about to leave me all alone in this crap world.
And he opts for his pocket lecture, How to Fix Knox 101?
It’s not that simple.
“Knox?” The soft sound of Isabelle’s voice pierces through my thoughts, forcing me back to the present reality.
I begin to turn toward the sound, relieved to know there’s a chance I’ll find some comfort in my old friend’s face. I have no right to expect her to be there for me. Not after I let ten years pass without so much as a text or phone call. And then there’s that night last week. Maybe I made it that much worse between us by fucking her. Maybe I didn’t. I’m not sure, as I haven’t taken the time to try to contact her since then. But then again, neither has she. I have no idea what she thinks of me, but from the concern in her tone just now, I’m almost sure she’ll be the friend I need now.
“I’m so glad you’re here Isabelle. I need to…” I mutter before our eyes meet, and my body stiffens when I realize she’s not alone. She’s with her father,
