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My senses were telling me to tread lightly. It was barely six p.m., and I knew from Daddy’s voice that he already had too much to drink.
“Yes, Daddy?” I answered as I entered the kitchen, and sure enough, he was sitting on the kitchen island, swaying slightly. Two decanters of what smelled like whiskey rested on the marble surface. One of the glass pitchers was empty while the other one was filled to the brim.
Daddy had said he would stop drinking after he trashed the kitchen a year ago, but it seemed he had forgotten his promise. I wanted to tell him that he needed to see someone about his crippling alcoholism, but I had never really had the chance to talk to him when he was a hundred percent sober.
“Sweetie!” He took a final swig of the amber drink before refilling his glass halfway. “I just talked to your brother today.”
My brother had been in prison for three years since his best friend had filed a lawsuit against him for embezzlement. He decided to go through with his jail sentence even though he could’ve bailed himself out or bribed a judge to keep him from being behind bars.
He hadn’t called me for three years, nor did Daddy mention his name after the scandal came out and the press had a field day, my brother’s face on the cover of every tabloid and business newspaper in the area.
It had affected the family company, of course. Customers didn’t trust a business that a cheat would potentially run. And Daddy didn’t take it well when he had built his entire life from scratch was going downhill all because of Ryan. If anything, it only worsened his alcohol problem.
But since I heard that Ryan had finally gotten out on good behavior, he called me once to tell me that he was fine and would fix things with Daddy and the company. But that was two years ago, and I hadn’t heard from him since except for his occasional texts asking how I was. Besides that, I hadn’t seen him in the flesh for five years.
“What did you talk about?” I asked, settling the paper bags on the floor by the counter to grab a bottle of coconut water from the newly-stocked fridge. Thanks to Heidi, our housekeeper for over twenty years, we always had everything in the fridge and the pantry.
“He said he’s in Bali right now. Can you believe it?” Daddy wheezed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m here struggling with how I’m going manage this crisis that has been going on for five years, and the asshole is over in Bali vacationing.”
What did that have to do with me? I wanted to ask but didn’t. I usually didn’t take part in this issue or invest effort into the company, but recently, Daddy had been hinting that I should decide about his plans to let me take over the company.
“I think it’s time for you to step up, sweetie.”
“But, Daddy, I don’t know anything about the company. And you expect me to run it?”
“That’s why you need to take a business course. Get an MBA or something. I know someone who can get you into any Ivy League school you want.”
School wasn’t the problem. I didn’t want to spend my entire life being miserable, looking at the company books and fighting for investors. It seemed tiring and boring. I wanted to play the piano. It was why I went to Juilliard in the first place.
While Ryan followed in my father’s footsteps when it came to being good with numbers and entrepreneurship, I didn’t want to be judged based on how much I could earn in this lifetime. I had my mother’s creativity. She believed that a person’s creativity was the most powerful thing. While my father lived a fast life, his wife lived a very slow one—baking cookies, playing instruments, and painting in the sunroom.
Sometimes, I couldn’t fathom how two such opposite people could fall in love.
“No,” I shook my head, earning a frown from my father. My heart skipped a beat, praying that he wouldn’t yell at me or, worse, throw a glass at me.
“Then what are you planning on doing with your life, Reagan? You graduated two years ago, and you don’t have a job. You’re not looking for a job, and even if you have one, you wouldn’t know how to do it. You’re wasting time and money to go shopping with your friends.”
My father had discovered a new tactic to use against me since I had been refusing his offer to become CEO—manipulate me and hurt my feelings. But I wasn’t having any of it. I knew what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to compromise it to please a drunk.
I didn’t want to sound whiny. But I wanted to tell him that I was making something for myself. I had planned another party for my friend’s birthday next week. She knew a lot of people in the music business, and I prayed that somebody would finally notice me there.
Sure, it was like finding a needle in the haystack, but I needed to start somewhere. I just needed more time. If this plan went south, I was planning to be in every piano competition I could find. The point was not to win, really. I just wanted to play for the public.
“I have a music degree, Daddy. I don’t know how it can help me get an MBA.”
“Then get a bachelor’s in business. Do whatever you need to do.”
“And if I say no?”
Daddy’s eyes narrowed at me. I used to be the obedient girl, always saying yes and always serving his needs. But I wasn’t interested in the business because I wanted to follow in my mother’s footsteps.
“I didn’t take you for someone who would defy me, Reagan,” he challenged. “But if you do, you can say goodbye to your trust fund. You can say goodbye to me supporting you because with how our business is losing money and how much you’re spending every day, we might go bankrupt in two years anyway.”
“But that’s not fair—”
“Life’s never fair, sweetheart. You’re an adult, but you’re still living under my roof, so you follow what I say.”
And that did it for me.
