“What?”
“You’re my oldest son. I tried to be patient and work you into this, but I’m afraid time is of the essence. The company should be handed down to you in the next decade or so.”
Negative feelings are all I’ve ever associated with my father, but this one is new: disgust. Disgust because he thinks he can tell me what to do so casually. Like I’ll upend my entire life to appease him. Even more at the fact that he assumes he can expect that of me.
I’m nauseous at the thought.
“I would rather stick my head into a blender.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
The first thing I noticed about my father when he showed up at mine and my mother’s townhouse, two days after she passed, was that were the exact same height and build. Placement of our features, copied and pasted—the same length of our torsos, our feet turned the same way, eyes at perfect level. But when I spit the words at him, he looks smaller than me. Shrinking.
“I said I would rather stick my head into a blender—do anything, really—than have any involvement in your company. I can’t think of a worse fate than being tied to your business for the rest of my life.”
His jaw unhinges. He really thought I was going to agree to this.
Keller’s back straightens and he turns his nose up. Despite what he’s trying to do, he still looks small from here.
“I’ve waited. I pay for your things, buy you supplies and even got you that Back Bay apartment. I let you go around and finger paint with your little art hobby. But you are a McCarthy, and youare the oldest, so it’s time you get serious about being in this family.”
“Oh, fuck off.” I wave my hand in front of his face and relish in the way his eyes widen. “This is your family, not mine. If you wanted me to be a part of it and take on your sad excuse of a corporate legacy, you should’ve decided that twenty-four years ago.”
There are voices in my head. They’re calling to me, trying to get me to understand that the reason I avoided flying off on my father for so long is because he keeps me steady while I finish my education. But the emotions that I’ve sealed away during every missed accomplishment, every birthday, while watching wholesome family movies with fathers that care about their kids—those are what fuel me in this moment. I can’t stop myself.
“You know nothing about me. You don’t care to know anything about me. And you sure as hell don’t give a shit about the fact that art is what I love and it’s what I’m meant to do. But you know what, that’s okay.” I poke a finger into his chest. “Because I don’t know you at all. You’re closer to being a stranger than you’ve ever been to a parent. You can walk around and tell everybody I’m your kid, and you can come up with this idiotic idea of your son taking over the company, but it’ll never be me.”
“Grant.” He points a finger at me and I smack it away. “I am your father.”
“But not my dad.” Keller sputters and I laugh. “Did you really think you could abandon me for my entire life and then ask me to give up everything I love to run your company? I hope you’re a better businessman than you are a father, because that was a huge lapse in judgement.”
He tries to say something. I only catch the words “ungrateful” and “McCarthy” because I’m too busy talking over him.
“You had every opportunity to create a relationship with me before this, but you waited until my mother passed to attempt a connection. Is that your sick way of trying to get ownership over me? Because she’s gone?”
“Your mother and I were a one-time thing on a drunken night. We barely knew each other. Did you think I would try to create a family with her?”
“You created a son with her! Me!” It was never about having a picket fence American family with two parents doting over their son. “I grew up wanting to be loved by my father, and despite that being the only thing I’m entitled to in life, I still didn’t get it.”
“I’m here now-”
“Because you want something from me.” My father is becoming easier to read.
He takes a deep breath. “There are a lot of people who are interested in the company, Grant. My time to retire is closer than you think. I want to hand my life’s work down to my son and avoid selling it to someone else.”
I mindlessly point and motion around the apartment. “Isn’t that what Locke’s for?”
“Locke has potential, of course.” He grunts. “But I’d like options.”
Options.
I nod. It’s been too many years of this for it to sting anymore. From the day I was born, to this very moment, I’ve been an option to my father. And for the last few years, I let myself be one for the sake of my comfortable lifestyle.
The expensive things and fancy apartment were the highlights of a dull life in that time. Derek hasn’t been around, and I don’t expect Heath and Clementine to shift their schedules to accommodate me. I allowed my father to wiggle his way into my life in exchange for the shiny stuff.
But now I have Lily. She brings more value into my life than any expensive item could. She’s provides me with more support than I’ll ever need.
