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XANDER
Pulling myself out of Clark’s bed this morning was brutal, but it was Marty who made it almost bearable as she greeted me with a fresh cup of coffee and some pancakes. I scarf them down, then drive to my apartment in Minneapolis and change into a suit. I’m meeting my father’s personal lawyer at their offices, an urgent matter the lawyer insisted had to be resolved within six days of my father’s death. Even from his grave, Lyle Lynol is still controlling me.
Winston Laurel is a man in his seventies but looks like he can still run a marathon. He’s been the family lawyer since before I was even a thought in my parents’ lives. He was the one man who barely took shit from my dad. He’s been supportive of my own career path, being the one person who seemed to talk my father out of disowning me, writing me out of his will.
He’s in a pair of golf shorts as it’s considerably warm given it’s the end of February in Minnesota.
“Xander, my boy, come on in. Let’s get this over with. Can’t believe your father is still trying to boss us around.” It’s meant as a joke, but Winston had a soft spot for my father, too. Or more so, he adored my mother and most likely put up with the asshole for that very reason.
I don’t know why I’m nervous, and I am. I wasn’t lying to Clark last night when I told him that I somewhat had hoped the company wasn’t left to me. It’s not like I don’t have the confidence to run it, or make the changes I plan to, in order for it to align with my moral compass, and not the cheater and ruthless boss my father was known to be. And maybe that’s why I’m so nervous. Life would be easier, I could transfer to the New York law office once a spot opens, and Clark and I would be together. It would be the easiest. New York is home to the Lynol Inc international office, too. I could work primarily from there, traveling to Minnesota a couple times a month. It’s only ideas because the main reason for my nervousness is rooted in the nature of my father. Will he have conditions set for me? Most likely yes. And will he ask the impossible of me just to keep my promise to him? Again, the answer is yes. I have no idea what the impossible would consist of, but considering we’re speaking of Lyle Lynol, it could be anything.
“Okay, Xander, this is going to be simple. I’ll read the will, and then if you have any questions, I’ll address them. Okay?”
I raise my eyes toward his, and we both laugh at the same time because we must be thinking the same thing.
“Really, Winston? My father and easy. The two words don’t go together.”
He bobs his head in agreement, a louder chuckle falling from his lips. “Yeah, I realized my foul the second I said it. But, honestly, I put the will together. It’s rather simple for Lyle Lynol.”
I gesture for him to continue, as he takes another glance at it. “Well, the son of the bitch.” He lets more curses leave his lips while he flips the pages.
This is what I expect with the last words of my father. “The man went and had my colleague re-write it. Sorry, son. I guess I promised too soon.”
And this is the Lyle Lynol I have come to hate.
“I, Lyle Lynol, being of sound mind do hereby declare that this is my last will and testament and do hereby revoke any and all wills that heretofore made by me. I further declare that this new will reflects my personal preferences without influences of others.”
Winston stops the reading for a second. My father couldn’t be influenced to do anything other than his own agenda.
“On a personal note,” Winston continues speaking my dad’s words, “I’ve not always been a good man or a good father, and certainly not a good husband, and for that very reason, I leave the house in Moba, Minnesota, to my first son, Xander Marcus Lynol.”
His first son? I’m his only son. Leave it to my father for dramatics in his last words.
“I furthermore leave him controlling interest of Lynol Inc, with the ability to run the company in his own way. I’m sure the board of trustees is circling around, attempting to see if I kept my word. And I have, but this is where it gets tricky.”
“Wait, controlling interest. What does that mean? Did he leave me the company or not?”
Winston stops and reads ahead. He’s as much in the dark as I am.
“That fucking asshole,” Winston curses under his breath, but I understand him clearly. He looks over the paper, a tight smile on his face. I have no idea what it’s for, or what to expect.
“Twenty-five years ago, I had a relationship with another woman. I loved her deeply but one day she was there and the next she disappeared. She had a child I never knew existed. He reached out to me a year ago. It means you have a brother.”
I don’t know why I never worried about this in the past, because my father couldn’t keep it in his pants most days to begin with.
“Your brother has been working for me in the New York office for the past year. He didn’t have the advantages you received, and his mother didn’t tell me of his existence. He found me after his mom died. It’s funny. I raised you, well, was in your life but you have so much of your mother in you, where he was raised without my influence, and he’s so much like me.”
“Great, he’s telling me there’s another Lyle Lynol. Like one in my life wasn’t enough. Oh, and he said he was unfaithful, like we didn’t know that.” Winston stops at my tirade, giving me a second to process all of this.
“You have controlling interest in the company, at eighty percent. Your brother has been given accommodations in New York, and in three years, after you’ve trained him, he’ll receive twenty percent of the company. Your mother always wanted you to have a brother. And I hope you take the opportunity to get to know him.”
I push out of my chair, my hands over my head, moving to the windows, looking out over downtown Minneapolis.
“Sorry, Xander, that’s it. You get everything, except for the twenty percent of the company. I mean that little bit, though millions, is really a toss in the bucket compared to your portion.”
“Do you think I care about the twenty percent?” I turn, my voice even. It’s not Winston’s fault my father was a liar and a cheat, though I’d always known this about him.
“No, I guess not. I knew nothing of this boy your father talked about.”
