“He also asked you to come home and take your place in the business,” Dom added. “Don’t forget that part.”
Forgettingthatpart wasn’t an option. Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Granddad on that damn video asking me to run the company that he’d devoted his life to. And every time I opened my eyes, I knew I’d be the man who wouldn’t honor my grandfather’s wish.
“You know that’s not going to happen,” I said, my voice low. I twirled the mug, avoiding eye contact with my very intuitive and somewhat annoying big brother.
There was a part of me that felt ashamed to admit that out loud. Because my grandfather had never broken a promise to me, and I was intent on ignoring one of his final requests. The will reading had put everything in perspective for me. That last text, my last conversation with him… the entire time he was telling me to comehome. Not just for a visit, but for a life. The only problem was I already had a life—in Detroit. I already had a business—in Detroit. I had no plans to leave all of that behind to be stuck behind a desk, working with my father day in and day out.
“Why?” Dom asked.
“I can’t just move,” I told him. “I have obligations, I have…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence because I didn’t really have anythingotherthan my business holding me there. Yes, I had friends, a network… But those people would be there whether I stayed in Detroit or not. And, honestly, my business would run smoothly no matter where I lived. Yet, trading my freedom for the chokehold of tradition and duty didn’t feel right to me. It never had. “Shit, I just don’t want to do it.”
“I get it,” Dom said.
I studied my brother. I knew it was hard on him, always being there, always being the steady son and brother. I wondered if he was ready for something new.
“In the end, though, they’re just excuses,” Dom continued. “You’ve always done whatyouwanted to do. But sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do, bruh. Dad is getting older. He wants to retire soon, spend more time with Mom.”
The thought of my father retiring had never even crossed my mind. “Has he mentioned that to you?”
“He didn’t have to, man. He’s tired. And Mom is tired of him. I see the struggle. I hear about the canceled dinners and the postponed vacations.”
“Well, I don’t want to have to cancel dinners and postpone vacations either. Prescott Holdings is not my endgame. I don’t want to live my life like DadandGranddad lived theirs, working long hours inside, going to board meetings, brokering deals.”
Dom raised a brow. “Isn’t that what you do now for your business?”
Well, shit. Of course, that was what I did now. It was what every business owner did to ensure their business was successful.
“Listen, we’re all here to support you,” he explained. “You’re not alone. You never were.”
I felt alone, though. Closing my eyes, I let out a harsh breath. “Just drop it. My life is in Michigan, not Rosewood Heights.”
“Why not just think about it? Give it some time, visit the office.” Dom shrugged. “Maybe nothing is like you think it will be.”
“Bruh…”
“Seriously, Coop. You—”
“Oh my goodness!”
I looked over to my right and grinned at the sight of Mama Lil shuffling toward our table. I stood. “Mama Lil.” I hugged her tightly.
She patted my back. “Good to see you again, CooCoo.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mama Lil,” I groaned, annoyed at the nickname I couldn’t seem to escape, no matter how old I was. “You promised.”
Pulling back, she laughed waving her dish towel at me. “I know, I know. But I can’t help it. I still remember you going crazy over that chocolate cereal. Shoot, I had to keep a box here in the restaurant for you.”
“Tell me about it,” Dom muttered. “He probably still eats it.”
I glared at my brother. “No.”
“Aw, boy, stop.” Mama Lil patted my cheek. “It’s okay if you still love Cocoa Puffs. No judgement. You’ll always be my CooCoo.” She cracked up.
Dominic laughed, too. “Hey, Mama Lil.” He hugged her. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Don’t worry,” she assured them. “I put my special touch on both of your meals. They’ll be out shortly. I just wanted to come see y’all before I left.”
“You’re leaving already?” I asked.
