“You used to work summers for your grandfather. What would be so different now?”
Ryan had, indeed, worked summers for DeMarco Property Management. It was part of the deal. Work summers starting at sixteen until college graduation. The idea was to work in a different department each summer to learn the business as a whole, but also to discover what department would be a good fit. Alex and his cousins had all played along. Hell, they’d even seemed to enjoy it. Alex was now their father’s right hand. Two of his cousins managed large apartment complexes. One had an entry-level position in the marketing department. Another studied accounting at the U. And the last was in his junior year of high school and already looking forward to working in the summer.
The first summer after he’d turned sixteen, Ryan had worked on a maintenance crew and enjoyed it. Every day carried a new set of problems to fix, and he was all over the city. One day it would be painting a unit for a new tenant, the next would be fixing a leak, the next would be pool maintenance.
But the following summer they put him in the office working in accounting with his aunt. Ryan hated numbers, loathed them. He had nightmares during the school year where he was faced with nonsense numbers chasing him through bewildering landscapes covered in graph paper. He skipped out and joined the maintenance crews. His grandfather’s face had never been so red as when he had finally caught on to Ryan’s little scheme.
His Nonna had argued his case, and his grandfather had allowed him to continue working maintenance that summer. He was dead by the next summer, and Ryan’s father had enough crap to deal with afterward. Ryan was allowed to resume his duties in the maintenance division, and his dad had seemed to forget about him.
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. But if I want my trust fund, I have to play nice.”
“It’s future security for a couple years’ work. A lot of people would kill for that kind of money.”
Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “I know, first-world problems.”
“Doesn’t mean they’re not real. Do you have a business plan yet? If you gave your dad a hint what the money would be used for, would he lay off?”
“He’d think it was a waste of time.”
Any activity not about profit was viewed as a waste of time and resources. He needed the trust fund money to help him grow his audience and monetize his creative endeavor. Ryan was sure, with a little patience, TLC, and being able to supplement his bartending job with his trust fund, he could eventually podcast full time.
“How do you know if you won’t try?”
“Stop making sense, Iz. You’re supposed to be my friend and tell me I’m right. And pretty.”
He finished his beer as Iz laughed at him
“You are pretty, and you’re not exactly wrong,” they said after catching their breath. “But you’re not exactly right, either. Adulting sucks, and this has to be your decision. The way I see it is that, yes, you’d have to trade a job you like for one you don’t. A flexible job for a nine-to-five. But after two years, you can tell that job to suck it and do whatever your shriveled heart desires for the rest of your life. It might be worth it.”
“You’re right.” Of course Iz was right. They had an annoying habit of usually being right.
Ryan was smart and reasonably responsible with money. Over the next two years, he’d save every penny possible, and with his trust fund, he wouldn’t have to worry about monetizing his podcast for a while. He could indulge his creative streak for the first time in his life and focus on creating the best podcast possible. Buying, selling, leasing, and maintaining properties wouldn’t make him happy, but it would allow him to do what did make him happy. Just delayed.
“So, have you made up your mind?” Iz stretched and yawned. Time to settle this so they both could sleep.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I’ll talk to my dad first thing Monday.”
“Good boy.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. Goodnight, Ryan.”
“Night, Iz. And thanks.”
Iz winked as they went back to their bedroom. Ryan grabbed another beer and turned on the TV. It was a Lord of the Rings kind of night.
nine
sister hugs
Elissa paced restlessly from the kitchen to the picture window in the living room. Her boss had been sweet and given her a couple hours off so she could be at home when her parents returned from the doctor. Today was the day their fortunes changed. For better or for worse.
Elissa didn’t know which she preferred—no, that wasn’t right. She wanted her mother to be okay. But if she was okay, something else might go wrong. Life had taught her it likely would. What and when were the only questions left.
