“Two scotches. Top shelf. Light on the ice,” the lady said.
“I love a woman who knows what she likes and likes what she knows.”
She winked. “It comes with experience, my dear.”
The bartender placed the drinks in front of us. I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was with bartenders at a funeral. Although I didn’t doubt he was being paid handsomely, I was too well-trained to not give him a tip.
“Thank you, sir.” I nodded as he walked away.
“How a person treats those beneath them says a lot more about the person they are than the zeros in their bank account,” she said.
The scotch was so smooth that I only choked because hearing the words my dad had said so many times repeated back to me on a day like today hit me where it hurt the most.
“There’s no one beneath me in this room,” I said. “How did you know my dad?”
“I didn’t, actually. My late husband did. He met your father at college, way before I met him. They had a mutual respect for each other. I wouldn’t say they were close friends, but they kept in touch.”
“It’s kind of you to be here.” One tumbler of scotch down, and I already felt my tongue loosen. “You may be the only person I’ve spoken to today that is…a person.”
She put her hand on top of mine, and I noticed the soft, wrinkly skin and clear nail polish.
“How about that young man I stole you away from?”
I scoffed. “He’s…something else.”
“They all are, dear. They all are.” She looked at her watch. “I’m afraid I must go. I just wanted to speak to you and give you my deepest condolences. Can I leave you with some parting wisdom?”
“Of course.”
“When life drops you in certain positions, you have no choice but to occupy the box you were given. You fight a little when you’re young and full of dreams, but eventually, you learn to love the box until it becomes your safe space. Men like your dad and my husband are mostly known for how they ruthlessly built their empires. That generation didn’t know how to be anything else. Remember that. They didn’t know.”
I held her hand up to my lips and kissed the back. “I hear you.” And I did. After all, I’d avoided the box all my life.
My dad had loved it. He’d embraced corporate life.
Unlike my grandfather, my dad’s creative genius shone through in the way he saw the opportunities for expansion into new markets beyond stained-glass windows.
I was much like my dad in the way the creative gene had skipped my generation, but I loved and appreciated my grandfather’s work, maybe more so than my dad ever had.
My grandfather’s parting gift to me twenty years ago was the stained-glass museum that had once been the home he’d built for my grandmother with his own sweat, blood, tears, love, and determination.
The museum and my grandfather’s workshop I’d renovated and made my home were my safe space. I loved it with all my heart. I felt close to my grandfather there and, to a degree, my father.
Maybe that was why, over the last four weeks, I’d felt like I was getting pushed further and further away from my dream and closer to the box my father had occupied.
It was only as the lady walked away from me that I realized I hadn’t gotten her name.
I eyed Pierce in the corner, talking to a couple of my dad’s investors. He looked like he belonged there much more than I ever had or wanted to.
“When you marry Pierce, you can share running the company with him and dedicate the rest of your time to the museum. Pierce has a sharp mind, and he’s from a good family.”
My dad’s words echoed in my mind. I was glad he hadn’t noticed Pierce’s absence from my life. My dad had liked Pierce because he’d never known what kind of man Pierce really was. I hadn’t wanted to take something else away from him, but equally, I didn’t have to accept it in my future.
“Mr. Van Stern, may I grab you for a moment?”
I took a deep breath and wondered about the merits of asking for a top-up of my scotch or staying sober enough to get out of there.
“How can I help, Mr.…”
