September 10

So today brings another unexpected phone call. My father called early yesterday morning while I was at the gym to ask me (uh, correction: order me) to meet with him today. His voicemail was to the point: Jack. I need to see you tomorrow. 1:00 at the office. He’s famous for that—expecting people to just rearrange their schedules on virtually no notice to accommodate his needs. Never mind that I’m one hundred and forty-five miles away and have my own job, my own life. Mere trivial details—none of this matters to him, so here I am on 295 south, on my way to see him, pissed off at myself for following his orders. I was able to clear my afternoon since all I had was a couple of rooms to paint in Dedham. I did refuse to meet at the office, though—I’m still not ready to go back there yet.

Contrast my father’s demanding tone with the phone call I just got from Callaway, who was just goddamned sweet, honestly, wanting to ask me to the charity thing but making it clear I had a way out if I wanted.

Like I’d want a way out of seeing her.

Seeing her name on my phone screen made my heart flop around like a caught fish on a dock. I had to wait a few seconds before answering to try and clamp down on how stoked I was feeling so it didn’t make its way into my voice. Just listening to her—that little intake of breath right before she said “really?” made my dick harden.

Funny how I was pelvis pals with a hot girl last weekend and couldn’t get anything started, but Callaway can have an effect on me over the phone.

And I’m going to be seeing her next week.

Man, I’m in deep, deep shit.

There’s that restlessness again, rising inside of me like a flock of sparrows taking flight. I have to keep my wits about me before I meet with my father. I’ll think of something grounding. Like Ed King.

I’ve been checking in on him more often lately. I know he’s keyed up with the impending move. The original sale fell through because the buyer wasn’t able to get financing, but another offer came in shortly after it went back on the market. The new closing is set for mid-October. Ed was scheduled to move into the retirement home since he had most of his stuff packed up, but he’s pushed that back. Something tells me he’s a little relieved he gets to spend more time in that house.

I’m coming up on Exit 10, Falmouth. The old man and I are meeting at a Cuban restaurant for lunch, but I’ve left my appetite back in Otis. My stomach feels like it’s folded in on itself, anticipating seeing him again. I tell myself to suck it up, that it’s just a quick meeting and I’ll be back on the road soon, driving away from him.

The hostess greets me with a smile. My father’s apparently already here; he left a message that I would be joining him. I flinch a little at this, because he’s going to act like I’m late, even though it’s 1:00 on the dot.

He’s looking down at his phone as I approach the table. He’s looking good, and I have to admit I’m a little glad about that. Good, healthy color to his cheeks, and his face seems surprisingly smooth and relaxed when we make eye contact. I thank the hostess and reach out to shake my father’s hand.

“Dad. You’re looking well.”

“Thank you. I’ve been exercising, and delegating more. Following some of the doctor’s orders.”

Got to smile at that one. Typical John Decker.

“I ordered us empanadas for appetizers, and sweet tea. Nothing alcoholic, because I’m going back to work, and you’re driving.”

“That’s fine.” I open the menu, waiting for him to tell me what was so urgent that I had to meet him. I don’t have to wait long.

“You’re probably wondering why I called.” My father picks up his glass of ice water, sips, sets it down. His eyes are flickering with anticipation. “The heart attack caused me to reevaluate things. I suppose that’s true of most people in similar situations.”

“I would guess so, yes.”

“I’ve gotten old, Jack. Crept on me while I wasn’t looking. I’ve had a hell of a business career—as you know, it’s been my life—but I want to spend some time with my feet in the sand and the sun on my face. I’m done with these New England winters, so I’m looking at buying a condo in Florida—Clearwater Beach.” He pauses. “I’m planning to retire next year. Possibly announce it at the Christmas party.”

I try not to look surprised, because I know this is what most people of my father’s age do. It’s just that my father is not most people. I guess I always thought he’d be working till the day he died—that his secretary would find him face-down on his desk, a yellow legal notepad nearby with scrawlings of figures, ideas, plans.

An image of my father in Bermudas, a Hawaiian shirt and a floppy straw hat flashes across my brain. Jesus.

“My heart attack affected your brother as well.”

I tense up a little at this reference to James.

“It shook him up,” my father continues, looking at me intently. “Made him think about family, and how you’re the only brother he’s got.”

Funny, this didn’t seem to cross his mind when he was fucking my fiancée…

“He’s been thinking a lot over these past several weeks. He ended his relationship with Brianne, and he told me that the idea about how to expand the company was yours, not his.”

Well. As surprising as my father’s retirement announcement was, this definitely tops it.

“I owe you an apology, Jack. I remember you had tried to talk to me about that, and I brushed it off thinking it was a case of sibling rivalry that I didn’t want to deal with. I apologize for not listening. James is very sorry as well. He’s planning to reach out to you again, try to explain. Not justify, just explain. He doesn’t expect you to forgive him, but he’s offered to resign as president at year’s end.”

Our waitress shows up with our teas and appetizer and takes our orders. Ropa Vieja for my father and Pollo Al Caldero for me, with a side of what the fuck. I don’t know how to react to all of this.

“I told him I’d be meeting with you. I hope to name my replacement by early spring. I’d like you to come back with the company. Short term, I need someone to run the new store in Concord. It’s scheduled to open at the first of the year. You’ve been out of the business world for a while—I thought it would be wise for you to get your feet wet before you jump back into upper management.”

“Upper management?”

“I want you to take over for me, Jack. I want you to be my replacement.”

Jesus.

I start to open my mouth but my father raises his hand to cut me off. You don’t question John Decker.

“Think about it, Jack. I don’t need an answer right now. I realize this has come as a surprise. But I see it as a win-win for both of us. I would get the peace of mind knowing the company would be in good hands, and you’d have a secure future.”

My father settles back against his chair, looking serene and confident as he pops an empanada into his mouth, chewing vigorously as I try to make sense of what the fuck has happened today.

Asked on a date by someone I need to put behind me.

Asked to come back to a company which I thought I had put behind me.

I said yes to the first offer and haven’t responded to the second.

And now I’m wondering if I should have said no to both.