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My own stomach drops. “Daddy…”
“I want you to move back home. I want a chance to get to know my daughter again. And teach you the business, while I still can.”
“The business…” I’m starting to feel a little dizzy.
“Aurora, you’re my only child. You and the company are my legacies. I want both of you to succeed. And what better way than for you to both succeed together?”
“You want me to work for you?” I sound like an idiot, even to myself. But I can barely take in what he’s saying. It’s too much info, too quickly.
“I want you to take your rightful seat at the table. You should have been there all along. That’s my fault.” He pauses and gives me a long, searching look. “I don’t have much time to change that, but Idohave time. You’re here now. Time to get started.”
I realize suddenly that this is his version of an apology. I sit in stunned silence as he picks up his fork and starts to eat. He puts a first bite of fish into his mouth, and begins chewing mechanically, without pleasure. His face is almost grim with determination as he swallows and takes another forkful.
He’s not hungry,I realize.He doesn’t want to eat this. But he’s doing it because he has to. To keep fueling the machine.
I pick up my own fork and spear a leaf of lettuce. I’m too taken aback by everything he’s said and the reality of how ill he is to argue with him. Most of the meal is spent in silence, Dad methodically chewing and barely tasting the food in front of him.
When Dad is finished, he glances over at my salad, which I’ve mostly abandoned. “Finished?” he asks, and pushes his chair away from the table. “Then let’s get back.”
Dad gripes about my car on the way to the office, telling me I need a new one. In another universe — one where he isn’t sick — I shoot him a sharp retort about how one needs money to have a nice car. But in this universe, I don’t argue with him. I go up to the office with him instead of dropping him off, because it makes me nervous that he seems so unsteady on his feet.
Tonette greets us, and says she has talked to Dad’s wife about having my room prepared. I feel kind of railroaded into staying there, since I didn’t refuse before.
Frankly, I can’t really afford the motel room much longer. Maybe I should just accept.
“Good, good,” my father says. “Call her back and tell her Aurora will be having dinner with us tonight. Tell her to have Gina make something nice.”
“Dad, I —”
“Oh, Joshua, there you are,” Dad barks. I turn to see Joshua emerging from the hallway leading to the back offices. “Aurora is going to be coming on board the firm. Tonette, find her an office, will you?”
“Great,” Joshua says, giving me a tight grin.
“I haven’t actually said —”
“I’m going to get some work done now,” Dad tells us, then turns to Tonette one more time. “I’m not to be disturbed, you understand?”
“Of course, Mr. Wilkins.”
And just like that, Dad goes into his office and shuts the door.
“Um, bye?” I say.
“Afternoon nap,” Joshua says quietly. “He’s been taking one every day lately.”
“Oh.”
“So,” he continues in a jovial tone, clapping his hands together. “You’re coming to work for us, then?”
“I haven’t actually agreed to that.” I shake my head. “I’m not even really sure what just happened. One minute I was eating my Caesar salad, and the next… this.”
“Your dad is a bit of a steamroller,” Joshua agrees. “But that’s how he’s made a successful career. Knowing what he wants. Not taking no for an answer.”
“Yeah. Imagine what he was like as a father,” I crack.
He lets out a soft breath. “I can only imagine. Though from what I understand at home, he’s not always the one in charge. Sounds like your stepmom is a whip-cracker, too.”
“She’s not really my stepmom. I was already eighteen and out of the house when they got together.” I look up at him. “Do you know her?”
