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“No, Dad, we’ve had the same agency for the past twenty years,” I replied, making sure to speak with my full voice, even though I was extremely tense.
“Hmm… Peculiar,” he dismissed, as we finally arrived in front of the old walnut double door. This was probably one of the only places in the entire OVT building to not have been renovated or even opened in years. I was expecting my father to open it without a second thought, however, he was just standing there, and I couldn’t quite see why.
“Did you come into my office without my permission, Benjamin?” His question came out ice cold, the accusation taking me by complete surprise.
“I didn’t,” I replied instantly. Why would I go to the place I dreaded most inside this building? I wouldn’t put myself in that situation. My father’s question simply didn’t make any sense whatsoever.
On my side, Olivia began to fidget, and there was an extremely worried look on her face. I had to distract my father before he picked up on Olivia’s obvious sudden discomfort.
“Look, Dad, are we just going to stand here? I have a crisis to take care of,” I said, knowing damn well that he was going to say something about it.
“Yes, well, you’re doing avery goodjob of that, aren’t you?” He didn’t look at me, opening the door and letting himself into his old office. I mean, his words were a little heavy, but at least he got distracted. I would take that any day than having him unleash his fury on Olivia.
The lights turned on when Dad walked to the middle of the room, warmly illuminating the office filled with antique wood furnishing. Almost all around the room were huge bookcases filled with archives containing Dad’s reports, from his first one to his last one before retirement. It was a historical site, if I was being honest. I wasn’t going to discredit my father’s fifty years of service as a journalist for various networks. He truly was Johnson DuPont, the legendary newsman, the modern blueprint for accurate news reporting.
I should be more at awe at the presence of half a century of quality work, but I was more haunted by the fact that while the room was filled with warm lights, this was nothing but a cold office that I had to endure growing up. It was a lot to live up to my father’s name. There was no denying that, but he also didn’t make things easier.
“So, tell me all about this little…fiascoof yours,” Dad said as he sat down in his old but classic leather chair. He showed exactlyhowhe made things a lot harder for me. Everything I did was small to him, to the point of insignificance. Even when the company I was running was bleeding cash, he still saw it as inconsequential, and nothing I had ever done changed his perspective on that.
But I always knew the best course of action to deal with it was to just keep my mouth closed and cooperate. There was no point fighting with him.
“Well, Dad, here’s what happened…”
And so I went on to tell him every single detail that had occurred; how Lucy published a story that attacked Jebediah Olson’s actions of selling government weapons to terrorists, how the story was indeed factual with various respected sources and interviews involved in Lucy’s story, how Jebediah Olson continued to try to cover up his actions by lambasting OVT as fake news and sending his supporters to instigate a bandwagoning propaganda. Each word that left my mouth, I couldn’t help but notice every single one of my father’s reactions, and he did a lot. He rolled his eyes, he stared at me judgingly, he evenyawned.
“And your plan on tackling all of this is to invite the person who’s attacking the company?” Dad proceeded to ask Olivia, who had been quietly hiding behind me the whole time. I couldn’t blame her this time, honestly, for wanting to hide.
Though she was terrified, Olivia still bravely stood from behind me.
“Yes, Mr. DuPont,” she responded, voice kind of shaky, but I admired her for keeping her cool so far. “I believe having an opportunity to interview Jebediah Olson will clarify all the misinformation spreading around—”
“And youthinkthat presidential candidate Olson will agree to this by your…anglesand yoursubtleties,” my father continued to grill, reiterating Olivia’s initial reasoning. I didn’t know he had been listening for that long.
Olivia, however, stood her ground, even when someone was asking tough questions and was trying to poke holes in her logic.
“I’ve come to know Jebediah Olson more than I would like, and I am confident that his extreme tendencies would lend to our favor,” she stated, firm, unwavering. It was admirable, and I would definitely dwell on how attractive she was if my father weren’t in the room.
“And let’s pretend that Olson agreed to this crazy plan of yours. Do you think anyone in the company can withstand such a personality?” my father dared, crossing his arms in disapproval. It was his tell-tale sign that he was absolutely not going to agree to this plan whatsoever, and I knew the reason he was asking all of these questions was to make us look like fools. “I interviewed that pompous son of a bitch multiple times, and every single time I did, I found a piece of my soul died,” he added, his usual stern voice watering down to a quiet statement.
“But you said so yourself, Mr. DuPont,” Olivia immediately started her counter-offense, stepping forward and beckoning her hands toward me. “Your son would be a perfect candidate for conducting the interview,” she declared, and I was filled with shock that she took that to heart, because my father never—
“Him?” he responded, instantly falling into a fit of laughter. “Oh, young lady, you’re too much,” he continued to say, in between each cackle.
In a heartbeat, I felt like a little boy again—the same little boy who told his father that he dreamed of becoming a renowned journalist like him, only to be discouraged because I was too soft. The same little boy who persevered with each criticism, each unsatisfactory job. And the same boy who still didn’t receive his father’s approval even after successfully pulling OVT away from bankruptcy almost fifteen years ago.
“Yes, boy, you’ve done somedecentwork being a war reporter, but interviewing controversial politicians is like interviewing the devil himself!” My father was still laughing hysterically at Olivia’s idea. “You’re just not good enough,” he bellowed, bursting into fits of laughter once more.
I looked away, unable to take it anymore. I just wanted it to be over. I just wanted to get out of there. Nothing was ever good enough for him…ever. Especially anything to do with me. No matter how much money I make, how much I do for him, nothing was ever going to satisfy him. I just… wanted to run—
“With all due respect, Mr. DuPont, I think you’re a bit out of place here,” Olivia spoke up, surprising both me and my father. “I hope you remember that you’re sitting in that chairbecauseyour son made sure that you’d still have it,” she said, immediately erasing the hysterical expression on my father’s face.
“You watch how you speak to me, young lady,” my father warned, and I was going to pull Olivia back by her shoulders, but her hand immediately went up to stop me.
“This isn’tyourcompany, Mr. DuPont. It hasn’t been yours for the past almost fiftenn years. So the mere fact that you still have your own office in a company thatyou gave upis just your son showing his respect to you,” Olivia went on to say, fearless in every fiber of her being. It was amazing how she stood her ground with no faults, no cracks. Just… a strong woman fighting back. “And it’s heartbreaking to see a person I admire be so out of touch in the industry he once dominated. Mr. Oviatt, with the help of his team, believes this course of action to be feasible. If you have any objections, why don’t you report about it?”
If words could kill, the entire room would have disintegrated into nothingness by now. Olivia’s words were as powerful as a black hole, completely stunning my father in his place. Without another word, Olivia exited the room with drive and purpose in each of her steps, leaving me and my father inside his office.
It was safe to say that me and my father lived in awkward silences, and this one was no different. But instead of me being the one that had been forced to shut up, this time, it was him. It was a rare sight indeed, and I was still overwhelmed with everything that just happened. Olivia’s words reached directly to my soul, and I knew I should try to be less like my father and be more like her: fearless and strong-willed, even if everyone, including myself once upon a time, was against her.
