“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard the story,” I say, sipping my coffee.
He sighs, and I can’t take my eyes off him as he gives me his back, pushing the eggs around to break them up. Scrambling them.
My stomach growls.
“You built it because it was profitable.”
He moves to the refrigerator, opening it as I speak.
“You saidEvermorewas all you had,” he says softly. “And I guess, in a way, I understand. Because, for years, I thought Evermore was all I had, too.
But I didn’t just build the hotels because they were profitable. I built them for you. For your mother, for ourfamily.Because I wanted that vision. The one where you were running up and down the halls, laughing. The one where your mother and I could curl up on the patio with a glass of wine while you watched movies from the pool. I wanted thehappy ever aftertoo, Aaron. And I wantedeveryoneto have that. Even you.”
I watch as he brings over a cup of something blue and when he sets it down in front of me, I realize it’s the shark cup. The dessert Jacob and I had worked on yesterday. That we made together. I look at the clear blue Jell-O, the little gummy shark suspended in the crystalline gelatine. I note the brown sugar and vanilla pudding sand on top, the little life saver candies garnishing the sugared sand; a life raft.
“Especially you.” My father stands next to me. “All I’ve ever wanted was to give you and this family the life I’ve always dreamed of,” he says, his gaze drifting to the dessert.
“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy,” he says.
“Dad—”
“And you were always so resistant. So stubborn. You had your own visions, and they didn’t align with mine. I thought I must’ve made a mistake. I must’ve fucked up somewhere because—”
He turns from me, shutting the stove off. I watch as he grabs a plate and pours the bacon and egg out onto it with ease. Watch as he sprinkles herbs and garnishes the damn plate with a sprig of parsley from the plants on the counter.
And then I watch as he pushes the plate towards me.
He hands me a fork. I take it from his hand, his hard, long fingers brushing mine.
“I know why you did it,” he says, sitting next to me. He takes a sip of his coffee as I take a bite of bacon.
“Why you hired Jacob.”
I tense. “Dad…”
“No, Aaron, listen to me. I’m only going to say this once. I know I haven’t always said the right thing or acted the right way, and I can’t promise I’ll say the right thing or do the right thing in the future, either, but I’m willing totry,” he says. “Because this—” He motions around the house. “None of it means anything if you don’t have someone to share it with. True wealth, Aaron, isn’t found in spreadsheets or fiscal reports. I think you know that.” I freeze as he looks at me with warmth. Warmth I’ve never known before.
“I think you embody the values of Evermore more than anyone I know.”
My eyes start to water because I’ve waited so long to hear him say this.
He spins the dessert cup, smiling down at it like it’s made of gold.
“Lola said you and Jacob made these. Together.”
I smirk. “Yeah, we did. Well, mostly I stirred the Jell-O and he did the rest, but—”
“You two make quite a good team,” he says before pushing away from me and refilling his coffee.
“Yeah, I guess we do.”
My dad leans against the counter, fixing his gaze on me.
“The job is yours, Aaron. If you want it.” He says the words solidly. The weight of them heavier than the world on Atlas’s shoulders.
I’ve waited all my life to hear those words, but they don’t hit me like I expect them to.
They don’t feel as good as I thought they would.
