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Large, gleaming brass frames hang on the far wall of his office. They display various diplomas and certificates of accomplishment, his extensive knowledge no doubt being a major factor in where he is today. On his desk, however, is a single framed photograph of me, him, and my mom standing on a beach. The photo is from when I was fifteen or sixteen on our annual summer trip. He has one arm draped over each of our shoulders, joy radiating from his face as he grins from ear to ear.
“Can we talk?” My voice comes out far more timid than normal, but given the nature of the conversation, I cower.
“Of course. What’s up?”
“I, um—” I twist my fingers, my hands intertwined in my lap, my clear anxiety causing my palms to sweat. “I don’t want to do corporate law.”
His expression of pride and admiration falls, replaced by a frown, one which I can’t quite read.
“What?”
I can’t tell if he didn’t hear me or if he is looking for clarification, so I go for a mixture of both. “I don’t know if Baker & Park is for me, at least not in the capacity that you want it to be.”
My dad nods silently, processing my words. He’s not a typically angry guy, but I could see this being the moment Idiscover a different side of my father. I tense as I wait for his response.
“Okay…” He stands before walking over to a bar cart in the corner of the room, which I’ve seldom seen him use. “What do you want to do, then?”
That’s unexpected. I anticipated him at the very least reacting negatively even if short lived, but he seems eerily supportive.
“Oh, I, uh—I am wanting to do more pro-bono work. I want to feel like I’m making a difference.” I freeze as the words start to tumble out, feeling they’re potentially far too stark. “That’s not to say that what Baker & Park does isn’t important, but I don’t want to spend my life going over contracts and, when I do step foot into a courtroom, defending our corporate clients from accusations of white-collar crimes.”
He nods again, but his brows are pinched and I can’t tell if it’s in thought or irritation.
“And you don’t feel like you can do that at Baker & Park?”
“Not really. We aren’t exactly a firm that specializes in pro-bono and family law.”
He carefully unstoppers an intricately cut crystal decanter and pours a generous measure of the dark, amber-hued liquid into two heavy tumblers. He holds one out in offer as I nod my agreement. His long fingers curl around the second glass and his gaze lingers on me for a moment before he speaks. “We do pro-bono work…not near as much as we used to, but we still do our part where we can.”
“I know, but when we downsized, I know that fell to the wayside. I don’t want you to think I’m—”
“I’ve been wanting to change that.”
“You’ve been wanting to change what?”
“I’ve been wanting the firm to starttaking on more pro-bono work again. It’s important to give back to the community. I can relate to where you’re coming from about our clientele. We’ll figure out a way to have you focus more on that and less on our corporate clients.”
“Wait, really?”
“Don’t look so shocked, son.” He laughs as he presses his glass to his lips, taking a large swig of what I now know to be bourbon. I do the same, taking a sip of mine, and it seems to help quell the unrest crawling up my spine at the mere thought of this conversation.
“There is something else…” I sigh as I lean forward in my chair, setting the crystal glass on the hard surface.
“Is someone pregnant?” He laughs awkwardly before the amusement leaves him at my expression. “Liam Stephen Park, did you get someone pregnant?”
“Hannah isn’t pregnant.”
“Hannah?!” His eyes nearly bug out as the tight grip on his glass grows stronger.
“Dad, not the time. I need to talk to you about something.”
“Is that why she quit?”
“No.”
This appears to appease whatever worry he was holding onto. He waves his hand, signaling for me to keep going. His gold wedding band gleams in the overhead lighting as he again pulls his tumbler to his lips.
“I don’t want to be groomed to take over Baker & Park.”
