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He tips his head to the side. “I’m surprised at just how unassuming you are. Heidi mentioned to Vicky that your father hasn’t always been supportive of you.”
“Did she?” That surprises me.
“He’s not proud of you?”
“He’s never said as much.” I hesitate, unused to putting my feelings for him into words. It feels disloyal, and I haven’t even discussed it with a therapist. But somehow it feels right to talk about it with Alan. “I think he’s jealous of me. I think he resents my success. He’s always lectured me against being conceited or arrogant. He’s always dismissed my achievements.”
“And yet still you try to win his approval,” Alan says. “I hope you realize you’re never going to get it.”
I look at where my hands are clasped. I guess I’ve always known that. But to hear it said out loud is more of a shock than I expected. “I owe him a lot,” I say, my voice husky.
“He’s your father. You don’t owe him anything. You’ll understand when you have children. It’s a debt you pass on. My father worked hard to provide for his children. He went without sometimes so that I could have everything I needed to go to university and start up my business. But I don’t owe him for that. It’s what you do. Instead, I provide for my girls and do everything I can to set them up in life. I wouldn’t expect them to feel as if they have to pay me back. I just hope they get the chance to pass that on to their kids one day.”
I frown. “I get what you’re saying, but he likes to remind me that I got where I am because I’m privileged and had his support. He told me I’d be nothing without him, and he’s right.”
Anger flares in Alan’s eyes. “Bullshit. You’d have been successful at whatever you turned your mind to, even if you only had a penny to your name. Look, you don’t need him, or me, or anyone to tell you that you’re successful. I think you should stop trying to seek his approval, and stop worrying about what you think he might say about the decisions you make. You’ve earned the right to live your life the way you want. Do I wish you’d move here? That’s a resounding yes. You’re like the son I never had, and I would love to spend more time with you both socially and at work. I think with your brains and my company we could achieve amazing things, and I know our scientists and computer engineers would love to work with you. But you’ve done enough. I know you’re not my son, but I’m incredibly proud of you for what you’ve achieved. If you’ll let us work with your program, we’ll pick up the baton and run with it, and do what we can to improve it. And if you don’t win the Turing Award for your work, I’ll be very surprised.”
It’s dubbed the Nobel Prize of Computing, the most prestigious and sought-after technical award. I’m so shocked that my throat tightens, and for a long moment, I can’t say anything. Alan picks up his beer and has a swig while he waits for me to regain control.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “It’s a lot to think about. And I need to decide what to do about Heidi.”
“Do you love her?”
The question takes me back. I’m not used to discussing emotions like this. Men rarely do it anyway, and certainly not with strangers. But I can see he genuinely cares about me, and his query is honest. He wants to help.
“We’ve only been together for a few days,” I reply slowly.
He blows a raspberry. “I decided I was going to marry Vicky two hours after I met her.”
That makes me laugh. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’d never met anyone like her. I met her at a party at university. She was there with another guy. But we started talking, and she was funny and clever, and right there and then I told her to ditch her boyfriend and go out with me.”
“And she said yes?”
“Not at first. But I was relentless.” He smirks.
I smile. “I understand what you’re saying, but it’s not really an answer for my predicament. I like her a lot. And… I have told her I’m a little in love with her.”
“Does she feel the same way?”
“Uh, yeah. I think so.”
“But being in love is different from loving someone, right? That comes with time. And it’s a gamble for either of you to make big changes to your lives after such a short time.”
“Yes, that’s right. But it’s not just that. She also has a difficult relationship with her father, and she’s worried about going back for the wedding. She’s flourished since she’s been here. I can’t ask her to go back there permanently.”
“Well, all I will say is that I don’t think you should make decisions for her. Maybe the time she’s spent here has given her the confidence to stand up to her father. The last piece of advice I will give—and I appreciate you haven’t asked for any—is that love, true love, doesn’t come around very often. And it’s always better to regret something you’ve done, than something you haven’t.”
I know he’s right. But I still don’t know what to do. Hopefully the path will become clear to me in time.
I have several long swallows of my beer, finishing off the bottle, and put it on the table. “So… is this the point where we shake hands on the deal?”
“You’re sharing the research with us?”
I laugh. “Of course I’m sharing the research!”
He grins, stands, and extends his hand, and I do the same. We shake firmly.
