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I swallowed, took a sip of water, and then continued. “I’ve written a program that will help automate a lot of what I do, which will free me up to handle more responsibilities at the company,” I said.
I managed to sound confident as I finished the sentence.
I had been thinking about saying something for months but had never found the right opportunity.
I figured that now was my shot, and I was pretty pleased at how I had managed to get it all out.
“You wrote a program?”
There was something in his tone that put me on edge, but I moved pass it.
“Yes. In my spare time, of course,” I added quickly.
“Such work ethic,” he said, and I didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice.
“What do you mean, sir?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer.
He face was set in a scowl. “You automated your job. Couldn’t even be bothered to keep the files.”
“Oh, it’s not that at all, sir. In fact, this will allow me to do even more.”
He didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked downright angry.
“Amy,” he finally said, shaking his head, “you’re fat. You don’t get to be lazy too.”
“Sir, you know I’m anything but lazy,” I responded, feeling compelled to push back, if only a little bit.
“You say that, but you’ve found a way to get out of doing your job. Is it really that difficult?”
“Did you understand what I was saying about—”
He shook his head sharply. “Don’t bother trying to explain. I guess we are who we are.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Whatever the implication was, I certainly wasn’t intending…”
“It’s fine, Amy,” he said, sounding so disappointed.
I felt tears start to gather, but I pushed them back.
“I need you to sign this.”
He pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. The transition was so swift it took me a moment to process what he had said.
“What is it?” I asked.
In some ways, I was grateful for the distraction, but still, his insult stung and had me off balance.
“Just some papers for the trust,” my father said.
“Okay,” I responded, signing the papers quickly and handing them back to him.
“Like I said, your grandfather was a visionary,” he said as he finished his last lobster tail.
“What do you mean?” I asked, no longer interested in eating the kale salad.
“He certainly couldn’t see the future, but I guess he anticipated you might not have the greatest work ethic. Which is why he made sure you couldn’t access your trust until you’re fifty. He made sure you’d have to take care of yourself for at least a little while,” my father said.
I didn’t bother to point out to him that I had worked in high school, all the way through college, and that the locket on my eighteenth birthday was the last thing my father had ever given me.
