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“Plenty, starting with why?”
“For the same reason you’re probably here.” He takes a seat and unbuttons the front of his sports coat.
Brady motherfucking Kane.
If my grandfather weren’t dead already, I would have made sure he didn’t live to see tomorrow.
I spend the rest of the meeting processing his reason for being here. Grandpa must have wanted him to get sober in exchange for something, but what? Six percent of the company? Twenty-five billion dollars?
Yet he didn’t ask you to get sober. Just him.
I can’t fathom why my grandfather would go through all that trouble of emphasizing the importance of sobriety being a journey, only to force my father into attending AA.
It doesn’t matter. If I earn my shares, then the math will never be in his favor regardless if he earns six percent or not.
I mull over every detail, searching for clues over the last two years, only to be drawn back into the meeting by the chip person slapping a chip into my hand.
“Congratulations on being sober for twenty-four hours.” The person in charge of passing out chips based on everyone’s level of sobriety continues on to the next person.
I spend the rest of the meeting flipping the chip between my fingers. It’s not until the metal legs of chairs scrape against the floor that I look up to find a majority of the members have already left.
My father rises from his seat, completely ignoring me.
“Did you ever want to get sober before the will?” I ask the question that has been festering in the back of my brain.
His beady eyes drill a hole into my head. “I never had a reason to.”
The piercing sensation in my chest intensifies. “Not a single one?”
“No,” he says in a flat tone.
“What about your kids?”
“What about them?”
To think you actually believed you were similar to this man.
In reality, the only thing my father and I have in common is an addiction. Because where he finds his family expendable, I find mine irreplaceable. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure I make them happy, which is something he couldn’t even begin to understand, let alone reciprocate.
“Why did you drink?” I blurt out before I have a chance to filter my question.
“Because I didn’t know how to stop.”
“And now you do?”
“I was heavily motivated to learn.”
“Because of money.” I don’t bother tampering down the disgust in my voice.
“Who are you to judge? It’s not like you’re any better than me.” He gives me a once-over glance that would make anyone else feel two inches tall.
“I’m here because I want to be.”
“Because of money.” He repeats my same words back to me.
I shake my head and stand. “Because I’m worth the effort.”
His quick glance couldn’t be more dismissive if he tried. “Are you sure about that?”
