Chapter Six #2
The experience had been humbling for him on many levels, but no part more so than his inability to return to work.
Sure, he’d had every state-of-the-art treatment available, the top-of-the-line equipment, and specialists flown in from all corners of the country, but when it came down to it, no amount of money could erase the medical event he’d experienced.
This might be the first time in his fifty-five years he’d been unable to have his way with the swipe of his black Amex.
My mother, on the other hand, looked as perfect as ever, with her blonde hair in a simple twist at the nape of her neck and her flawless, surgically enhanced face radiating a glow.
The single strand of pearls around her neck matched the rest of her aesthetic—simple, chic, and very expensive.
Not a brand name in sight. She embodied the expression wealth whispers. Think Stepford wife on steroids.
“Ryder,” she said, surprise in her voice. “And, Alex, was it?” As though she hadn’t met him several times and heard countless stories about him by now.
I frowned, and he squeezed my hand. “Yes, that’s correct. Nice to see you again, Mrs. Calloway. Mr. Calloway, you’re looking well, sir.”
Ugh. I hated that my family brought out Alex’s stuffy, polite side. My boyfriend wasn’t polite. He was grumpy, gruff, and sexy as hell. But it wasn’t just him. Most people reacted this way to my stiff, noses-turned-up parents.
My father narrowed his eyes in disapproval but gave a well-mannered nod. “Alex, welcome.” His words were slow and stilted, but he’d gotten them out. Sometimes he still said the wrong word or couldn’t come up with one at all. It was the main reason he had yet to return to work in any capacity.
“Had we known you were bringing a friend, we’d have prepared him a cocktail,” my mother said as though she’d been the one to make their drinks.
“Not to worry, Mrs. Calloway.” Grace, one of the kitchen staff members, hurried in with two whiskeys on a tray. “We’re on top of it.”
“Ah. Well, please sit down, boys.” Her pinched expression failed to hide her dislike of Alex’s presence.
Despite the ultra-conservative world my parents lived in, they’d never given me grief over being gay.
I think they enjoyed it a little too much, as it gave them a cause to champion and a reason for people in their circle to talk.
Their problem stemmed from Alex living in a different social stratum than us.
Though they’d yet to say it to my face, I knew they disapproved of my relationship with Alex.
He didn’t give a shit about stock portfolios or social standing.
He couldn’t name five luxury designers if you paid him, and he’d rather poke his eyes out than hobnob at the elite country club my parents belong to.
It didn’t matter if their son was in a same-sex relationship, but it sure as hell mattered if he was not in a same tax bracket relationship.
Alex and I accepted our drinks with thanks to Grace, who smiled and informed my parents that hors d’oeuvres would be served in a moment.
“Please ask the chef to hold off for a few moments, Grace. We have some things to discuss first. I’ll request food when we’re finished.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll relay the message.”
Guess we weren’t allowed to have snacks while engaging in awkward conversations.
As soon as Grace vanished, my father turned his attention to me. “How’s the prize?” he asked, then frowned. “Prize.” He shook his head. “Goddammit.”
“Prototype?” I supplied, earning me a glare for easily summoning a word my father couldn’t.
The speech pathologist had called it expressive aphasia, which occurred as a direct result of the part of his brain affected by the stroke.
At first, he couldn’t speak at all, which had been extremely difficult for my prideful father.
Slowly, with much effort, he began to find his words, but he still struggled with them months later.
The simplest way the speech therapist described the deficit to me was that he knew what he wanted to say, but the stroke disrupted the connection between his brain and his mouth.
Sometimes he spoke an incorrect word, and sometimes he couldn’t get one out at all, though I’d say it had gotten about seventy-five percent better over the past few months.
“Yes,” he said, eyes shooting fire. I had no doubt he’d have blasted me for cutting him off if he could have.
I sighed. I was about to give him the worst possible news he could ever ask for, yet this somehow seemed as bad. “There are some challenges.”
“Challenges?” my mother asked before my father could attempt it.
I sipped my drink before nodding. If I thought the liquid courage would have made this shit show easier, I’d have tossed back the entire tumbler in one gulp.
Alex sat beside me, a silent sentry giving me strength and support.
“Yes. I won’t bother sugarcoating it. Testing is not going well.
” I then plowed forward, reiterating everything Rachel and I had discussed, including the proposed budget increase and estimated time extension required to execute the necessary fixes.
“Fuck.” My father tossed back the rest of his whisky, slamming the drink on the end table beside him. The loud clank had my mother visibly jumping. “This wouldn’t have happened if I’d been there.”
Beside me, Alex stiffened. I risked a quick sideways glance at his face to find him scowling at my father.
His fierce snarling-dog expression had me fighting a chuckle instead of absorbing the sting of my father’s words, which had flown out of his mouth without so much as a one-second delay.
Knowing Alex had my back allowed my father’s disapproval to roll off me like water droplets on a windshield.
If it weren’t for my protective boyfriend, I’d probably still be a messy heap on my office floor, and I certainly wouldn’t have the courage to say what I was about to say.
“There’s something else.” I’d forever be proud of how my voice remained steady, even as my father’s glare morphed into burning fury.
“What is it?” My mother lowered her wineglass from her lips and shot a concerned look at my father.
Alex slid his hand onto my thigh and settled it there after an affirming squeeze, right in front of my parents, who both zeroed in on the action.
There wasn’t anything sexual or inappropriate about it, just a tactile show of support, but both my parents frowned as if that was the bad news in itself.
“At least you know we aren’t about to announce a pregnancy,” I said with an awkward laugh. Beside me, Alex snorted and shook his head, but a glance at him revealed sparkling eyes. At least someone appreciated my weak attempt at lightening the mood.
“Really, Ryder, this doesn’t seem the time for jokes.
” My mother’s censure came with a delicate sniff and an air of how-will-this-news-affect-my-social-standing.
She valued her position at the top of the country club food chain almost as much as her Hermes purse collection, and that was saying something because she loved those damn bags.
“What else did you… fire… floor… fuck up?” my father asked, huffing at his challenge in finding the correct profanity.
Alex’s hand tightened on my leg.
I leveled my father a severe glare I’d learned from my prickly boyfriend.
“I haven’t fucked up anything,” I said, voice flat and even.
Then I took a fortifying breath. “I’ve put my education plans on hold for months to run your company.
Before you had a stroke, I’d alluded to the fact that I had different goals and desires for my future.
That led to a blow-up we never had the opportunity to hash out or discuss.
It’s long past time that I make my wishes known. ”
I focused on the warmth of Alex’s hand and his solid, reassuring presence next to me as I inhaled.
Here goes nothing. “I’d switched my master’s program from business administration to education.
I want to teach kids, specifically elementary school-aged.
And one day I hope to run my own LGBTQIA+ youth center. ”
“What?” My mother’s Botoxed face didn’t contort like my father’s, but confusion swirled in her gaze. “Ryder, what on earth are you talking about?”
“I deferred one trimester so I could run the company while Dad recovered, but this was never supposed to be permanent. I am not interested in a permanent position as the CEO of Calloway Enterprises. I’m not interested in any position at Calloway Enterprises.”
“Darling, this is absurd.” My mother chuckled, heavy with condescension. “Education? You can’t major in education. Even your… friend is trying to obtain a degree in engineering. You’re a Calloway. Of course, you’ll run the business.”
Even my friend had a better career path.
Christ, could she be ruder? Alex worked his ass off every damn day for that degree.
I only hoped he didn’t pick up on her dig.
She wasn’t complimenting him on his degree choice, but revealing her surprise that someone of his social standing could obtain a degree she found valuable.
She was the definition of snobbery.
Tsking as though I’d told her I’d spilled my drink on the carpet, my mother looked to my father, whose face turned an unhealthy shade of red.
My breath caught.
Was I about to cause another medical event?
Did I need to stop talking? Change the subject so I didn’t send him back to the hospital?
“Ryder, what are you really trying to tell us here?” my mother asked.
I froze, staring at the concerning tomato-red of my father’s face.
“You got this. I’m so goddammed proud of you.” Warm breath floated across my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I turned my head to find love and encouragement radiating at me from the one person whose opinion I cared about above all.
I had this.
I turned back to my parents, sitting opposite us on a matching floral love seat. “It’s time for you to find a replacement for me as CEO. I will be leaving when the fall trimester begins in a few weeks.”