27. Trent
27
TRENT
I stood in front of the Luxe Hotel, burying my hands in the pockets of my coat to keep the chill away. I had a reservation at the restaurant for noon—and I’d never wanted to cancel more.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, spotting Jimmy’s name on the screen. “Hey,” I answered.
“Hey…Did you go in yet?”
“Not yet.” I was still working up the nerve. Frankly, I’d rather spend the rest of the month in board meetings than walk through these doors, but I also knew this was the right decision. It was time.
“Are you sure you even want to do this?” Jimmy asked.
“I’m sure.” I’d been back from the High Point trade show for a few weeks now. The launch of the new sustainable, eco-focused line had gone well, and the few pieces we’d headlined with were well received, sparking a swell of new orders from interested buyers. The time away had given me the space and perspective to digest everything that had happened with the fight with my mother and the subsequent fallout with Natasha. I’d taken a step back, assessed the cracks in my relationships, and now it was time to start cleaning up that mess—starting with my parents. “Look, what I choose to do doesn’t have to affect your relationship with them. You know that, right? If it would make you more comfortable, I could leave you out of it. You do whatever you think is right for you. I’m still going to be here for you no matter what.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s not that. I still want you to speak for both of us today.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just…I wanted the opportunity to be there for you for once. I know you’re, like, old as hell?—”
“Ouch, thanks,” I said, laughing. “I’ll remember this when you hit your thirties.”
“I mean it, Trent. I just wish you’d let me be there to support you.” Jimmy huffed. “I can’t manage a lot, but I think I could have handled this.”
“You’re managing everything you need to. You keep your focus on school for these next few weeks, okay? You’ve got final exams coming up next month, and then you’ll be free. We’ll get you moved back home before Christmas, and then we can put a pause on things.”
Jimmy sighed. “What if I bomb these exams?”
“Then you bomb them,” I said, keeping my voice relaxed, trying to reassure him that we’d deal with whatever happened. “And we’ll figure out your next steps together.”
“Right. Thanks, Trent.”
“Anytime, Jimmy. I mean that.”
“I know you do. All right, well, call me back and let me know how everything goes.”
“I will. You go hit the books.” I hung up, walking through the revolving door and stepping into the Luxe’s polished lobby before I could change my mind. I’d chosen this particular place to meet my parents—a brand-new hotel in midtown—because it had no connection to the business, or to our family, or to the divorce. There’d been no birthdays or anniversaries celebrated here. No business meetings taken. No board members schmoozed.
It was neutral territory as far as I was concerned, and that was exactly what I needed. That said, I still had no idea if my parents would even show up. Neither of them had responded to the email invites Pam had sent. After how hard they usually worked to get in touch with me, it was difficult to imagine that they wouldn’t show, but I was done trying to figure them out or anticipate how they might react. If they showed up, great—I had something I was determined to say, and I wanted them to hear it. If they decided to leave me hanging, they’d get the news in a follow-up email tomorrow.
Either way, it would be done, once and for all.
“Good afternoon,” the hostess said, greeting me at the entrance of the restaurant. “Do you have a reservation?”
“It’s under Saunders,” I said. I’d had my secretary request a secluded table when she made the reservation.
“Right this way,” she said, leading me through. The space was classy and elegant, all crystal chandeliers and black accents.
“Thank you,” I said, spotting my mother at the table doing a fabulous job of ignoring my father who stood at the bar, chatting up the blonde bartender.
“Trent!” my father called, raising his hand in greeting, the other wrapped firmly around his scotch. He walked over to the table, my mother shooting him a look that said she was already annoyed. “What’re you drinking?”
“Nothing for me,” I said, waving off his question.
He sat down, and so did I. Christ, it had been forever since I’d sat with my parents like this. The closest we got was the board meetings, but during those, we were never alone. It was worlds away from comfortable, but I’d endured worse. And if I had my way, it wouldn’t last long. “Thank you both for coming,” I started.
“Yes, I quite enjoyed the cryptic email,” my mother said. “Are you about to tell us you’re dying?”
I felt my blood pressure rise.
“Now, Lara, play nice,” my father said. “No need to ruin lunch.”
“I believe it already was the moment you showed up,” she said, sipping her wine.
“God, you two are insufferable,” I muttered. Two pairs of eyes cut toward me. “Look, I’ve asked you two here today because…Well, frankly, I’ve made some mistakes lately.”
“Haven’t we all?” my father laughed, clapping me on the shoulder.
I shrugged off his touch. “Well, unlike you, I’m trying to fix them.”
My father scoffed as he sipped his drink.
“I’ve hurt the people I care about,” I continued. “One very important person in particular.”
“If you’ve brought us here to whine about Natasha—” my mother began, rising to her feet.
“Sit down,” I snapped. She gave me a hard look, but she returned to her seat. “I’m not here to whine. Quite the opposite. I’m here to take ownership over my life. Part of that means accepting responsibility for what I’ve done, and part of it means letting go of responsibility for the things I never had any control over at all. And at the top of that list is the way you two fucked me up.”
“Whoa, hang on!” my father said, choking on his drink as he laughed. “What the hell have I done?”
“Oh please,” my mother said, rolling her eyes. “What haven’t you done?”
“You’re both to blame,” I said. “For making my childhood miserable. Do you have any idea how toxic it was, growing up surrounded by your fights, your total lack of respect for each other, your complete lack of concern for Jimmy and me? Did you ever think of what kind of example you were setting for me? What lessons I was learning from you?”
“Just because we tried to raise you to be strong and self-reliant—” my mother said coldly.
“You raised me to be closed off and distrusting,” I shot back. “To believe that any attention or affection I get must have a price tag on it, because I only got either of those from you when there was something you wanted from me in return. Thanks to you, it’s hard for me to trust even the people who have always been honest with me.” Honest to a fault , I thought, feeling a surge of wistfulness at the thought of all the times Natasha had been incredibly frank. “I’m always waiting for people to disappoint me because that’s all you two ever did.”
“Look, son. It’s not our fault if you’ve screwed things up for yourself,” my father said. “That’s on you.”
“You’re right. And I’m done with it.”
“What do you mean ‘done with it’?” my mother said. “Did we not already go through this phase with you?”
“I’m done letting you two take up so much space in my head,” I clarified. “That’s been my biggest mistake all these years, and it’s now my biggest regret. I should have cut you off years ago. For my sake and for Jimmy’s.”
“What do you mean cut us off?” my mother snapped.
“You’re my parents, for better or worse—and just so you know, it’s mostly been worse. But that doesn’t mean I need to follow in your footsteps or let you influence the kind of person I am.”
“You’re not making any sense,” my father said.
“I’m making perfect sense,” I corrected him. “Maybe for the first time in my life. From now on, I’m leaving you two behind.”
My parents glanced at each other, sharing a real look for maybe the first time in five years.
I cleared my throat. I’d rehearsed this part a thousand times. I knew the kinds of needling leeches my parents were, and I needed to get this exactly right. “Let me be crystal clear. You should stop calling me, because I’m not ever going to answer. You should stop trying to interfere with the company, because I’m not going to allow that to happen. As far as I’m concerned, this relationship, whatever was left of it, is done.”
My mother spluttered on her wine.
“If you’re willing to listen to advice from me for a change, I’d suggest that you consider letting go of some of your own anger and bitterness. All it does is poison. I’ve seen it firsthand in my life and in Jimmy’s. And since you never bother to call him, I want you to know that Jimmy and I have talked some things out. After this semester is over, he’ll be taking a year off school to figure out what he really wants out of life. And whatever that is, I’ll support him.”
“‘Whatever that is,’” my mother sneered. “He’s dropping out of school? Of course he is. He’s spent far too much time under your influence.”
“If you two can’t be bothered to show him any kind of support,” I said, talking over her, “then so be it. Jimmy doesn’t need your money or anything else you think you have to offer. He has people he loves and trusts, and he’s done letting you dictate to him what he’s worth.”
“You can cut us off or whatever you think you’re doing here, but we built you,” my father sneered. “Nothing will change that.”
I scoffed. “No, I built myself. With the help of the family I’ve chosen . A family that’s been there for me and supported me all along. And I’m going to follow in their footsteps and try to be happy for a change. So, now I’m going to do something I should have done a long time ago and put boundaries in place.” I got to my feet. “Today I’m letting go of my anger, and I’m letting go of you. As far as we’re concerned, this is goodbye.”
I turned and left, feeling lighter than I had in years.