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“How’s your chess game? Who’s winning?” I asked, looking at the board. Clearly, seeing the nurse was winning.
“Oh, I can never win this game, not unless that doctor comes by. He always lets me win.” He sighed and turned back to the board, noticing it was his turn.
“Jacob? Dr. Whittaker?” I asked.
“I think that's his name. He always asks me questions as we play. I think it throws him off.” He picked up the knight and moved it, only to lose his bishop to the opponent’s Queen. “Damnit,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Dad, I have something I want to talk to you about,” I started, leaning forward on my knees. “It’s about the company.”
He scrunched his eyebrows and looked over at me. “Company?”
I let out a sigh and looked up at my mom. She scrunched her nose and shook her head.
“Not today, huh?” I asked softly.
“Well today’s a good day so far,” he smiled. He actually smiled. “I’m Graham by the way, what's your name?”
“It’s Elliot,” I answered, pinching my brow. I had lost count of how many times I had introduced myself to my dad. My heart broke a little more each time. He would nod and hum and then return to whatever it is he was doing. Sometimes he would ask me if I was another doctor, but today, his response shocked me.
“Elliot. I’ve always liked that name.”
I could feel my chin quiver, and I forced myself to hold back tears. I knew he was the one to name me, but I had never heard him say that about my name. My mom always told me the story as to how he honored one of his friends growing up by naming me after him. He could have given my name to Jacob, but he gave it to me instead.
“It’s a good name.” I sighed, keeping emotion out of it for now. “Can I play the next game?” I asked the nurse. He nodded and gave me a smirk.
He rose from the chair, glancing at his watch. “I’ll be right back with your meds Mr. Whittaker, your son is going to step in for me okay, or maybe you can start the game over?”
“I don't know, this one looks smart enough to take me. He could be an architect.” He started to move all the pieces back to their spaces. I slid over to the empty chair and Mom took the one next to Dad, sliding her hand into his.
“I’m kind of an architect,” I answered back, moving a pawn two spaces ahead.
“In school?” He moved a knight.
I shook my head. “No, I own an architecture firm. My dad left it to me.”
“Smart man.” He furrowed his brow as I moved another pawn, then he moved one too.
“He is a smart man, but I’m nervous because I want to sell it. I don’t want to own it anymore.”
My mom glanced at me, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Well, why not?”
“It’s not what I want to do—be in charge of it anymore. It’s just not who I am. I want to sing.”
“Sing? That other doctor talks about a singer.” His pawn took mine and then he looked at me. “Singing is an empty career.”
I chuckled. “That’s what my dad says too.” I stole a pawn with my knight and he let out a low hum.
“Graham, honey, Elliot is an amazing performer. He’d love being on the road. It’s what he does,” my mom explained, placing her hand on his, her thumb rubbing his knuckles.
Pinching his lips, he reached forward and moved another pawn. “Well, then the best thing to do would be to talk to your father. If it were me, I’d try to encourage my son, even if I didn’t approve of his career.” Lifting his chin he studied the chess board, no doubt trying to guess my next move.
But I was frozen. I never expected my dad to say something like that to me. He didn't even know it was what I needed to hear—his encouragement, his approval—above anything else. That's all I needed.
“Really?” I stuttered.
He hummed. “I would want my kids to excel at whatever they were best at. I may be hard on them on the outside, but I would always be proud of them on the inside.” He chuckled. “But this is all just me thinking of a future I may never have. If you really want to waste your life singing, you just need to talk to your father. He may be more supportive than you think.”
