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“I was the only one who could take it,” I retorted, sliding the glass towards me.
“It was always your dad’s dream to keep it running in the family, and when he saw how creative you were turning out to be, he knew it’d be you.”
“Yea, Jacob was too busy dissecting worms in the backyard.”
Jacob chuckled. “I was always meant to cut something open, wasn’t I?”
I shook my head, blinking a few times to remember exactly what I needed to talk about, “Well the business is actually why I’m here.”
My Mom’s eyebrows furrowed instantly, worrying being her first train of thought. “Is everything okay? You said you have meetings . . .”
“Yes, Mom, everything is great. So great, in fact, that I’ve had a few people approach me.”
“For?” Jacob asked, his voice going monotone.
“You’ve heard of Anthony Rummer right?” I looked at Jacob and Mom as they both nodded their heads. Anthony was a fellowarchitect that went to school with Dad. “He offered to buy the company from me.”
Jacob let out a long sigh, his head tilting away from me and Mom. She pursed her lips and kept nodding.
“I declined the offer; it was way too low . . . but it got me thinking about really selling it. I talked to Clay and he’s going to look into the value of the business. I really think I can sell it for a decent chunk and—”
“And what?” Jacob interrupted. “Dad wouldn’t sell it.”
“Well, Dad’s not really able to make that decision, is he?” I turned to Jacob, my voice coming out more forceful than I meant. His eyes met mine before he blinked and turned to the counter, his body turning stiff.
Mom took a deep breath for, by my count, seven seconds, then let out a long exhale. “What would you do if you sold?” she finally asked softly.
“Well . . .” I swallowed. “I’d do music. I’d use a part of the money to pay off your house, take care of any expenses you would need and then I would hire a decent agent and maybe pursue the band a little more.”
“The band?” Jacob muttered, his gaze not flattering from whatever it was focused on. “You would sell something that dad worked so hard on, something that you just heard mom say was his dream to keep in the family, just so you can play your guitar?”
“It’s not just playing guitar, Jacob. We have something with the band, and we could become big if we tried. We had a talent agent come to the Piano Bar the other night and he wanted to meet us. He’s interested in us.” I held my ground. This was who I was, even if it wasn’t who Dadwantedme to be.
Dad left me his architecture firm for a reason. He saw that I was the creative one—the one who saw things differently. The one who had a mind like his.
Except, I was never interested in drawing or doodling like Dad was. I wanted to create other things. I wanted to create sound. I was always banging on rocks and using trash cans as drums. WhenI was seven mom enrolled me in piano lessons and it exploded from there. Music became my world. I played the guitar in high school and then gave lessons to others. I would play and make Milo listen to all my song ideas during slow nights in an ambulance while I studied business in college—boring myself to death simply because I knew that's what my Dad wanted me to do. I wasn’t creative in the way he wanted me to be creative. I found my own voice and own rhythm, only to have it pushed aside . . . again . . . when I had to take over the company.
“Elliot?” My mom’s voice brought me back to earth. “Are you saying you could get a record deal?”
“Potentially. I mean it’s a huge possibility. But I can’t do thatandrun the firm. If I sell, I can focus on my dream—what Iwantto do.”
Jacob scoffed and pushed himself from the counter, turning his back to leave the kitchen. I watched as he stormed out, taking the tension with him. As soon as I heard the front door close, I turned back to Mom.
“Don’t mind him,” she whispered, a faint smile forming.
I locked her gaze, knowing without him she would listen, and understand. “I'm serious, Mom, but this is a big decision, and, honestly . . . it involves the entire family. Jacob has every right to be upset.”
“Elliot, you know I’m proud of you for everything. You took over the company even when it was the last thing you wanted to do. You still went to the office with your father with a smile on your face and learned the ins and outs, and look what you've done with it since he’s retired. But I can see when you’re here, and I hear it when you play me a song. Your passion lies with that band of yours, not behind that desk.” Her voice was soft, very maternal, and just by the look in her eyes, I knew she meant every word. “I’ll support the sale, but you need to promise me something first.”
I raised my eyebrows, taking a deep breath.
“Your father leftyouthe company. The house has been paid off for years, I’m set with my retirement and savings I have. I don’t need any of that money.”
“Mom.” I stopped her. “Clay is looking into the numbers. I know it’s worth more than half a million—that's why I declined Anthony’s offer—but I couldn’t take all the money for myself.”
She pursed her lips. “I’ll only take one percent.”
“Mother.”
