Chapter 7 The Actual Embodiment Of All My Deepest and Darkest Insecurities
TANNER
“You’re what?” my dad’s voice reverberates off the walls of my parents’ dining room.
He stands abruptly, causing the whole table to shift.
The wine I just poured threatens to slosh over the edge of my glass, and my brother’s fork clangs against the fine china plate my mother insisted we use because the whole family was together.
I look quickly between the five people in front of me.
Bella, my younger sister, stares down at her phone, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
Mitch and his wife, Farah, are staring dumbfounded at my father.
My mother wipes the corners of her mouth with her cloth napkin and then slowly rises to meet my dad.
She moves her hand down his back, offering him a small smile.
There is no mirror in the dining room, but I’m sure my face is somewhere between surprised and confused as shit because I, for one, am flabbergasted that I was not the cause of the look spread across my dad’s face.
When I arrived at my parents’ house tonight, I had no doubt that I would be seeing the look—this look—before the evening was over.
It’s the same look that tucked me into bed most nights after a long lecture about needing to listen.
The look that stared back at me while I struggled with my homework from the time I was six until I was fourteen.
The look that met me when I stepped off the lacrosse field after every game.
The look that paints his face on the days I make it into the office.
And I was fully expecting the “I’m fucking disappointed in who you are.
Do better. Grow up. When are you ever going to make me proud?
” look when I told him that I wanted to pursue purchasing The Local and leave the family company.
For three weeks, I’ve been waiting patiently for him to get back in town, for him to have time to meet with me, and now it’s all going to shit.
Tonight was supposed to be like every other family meal we’ve ever had—dinner, drinks, dessert, and the actual embodiment of all my deepest, darkest insecurities.
It was supposed to start with my parents doting on my little sister over drinks and hors d’oeuvres.
Then, during the main course, the conversation was supposed to switch to the part of the evening where Mitt and Mitch bore us all with talk about how fantastic the family business is doing, most of which is news to me because, despite me working with them, I’m rarely kept in the loop.
And then for dessert, I would remind my dad that I once again didn’t live up to his expectations.
But I’m still eating my steak, and the look has already made an appearance, and I’m quickly realizing my announcement isn’t going to happen.
“Dad, if you would just hear us out,” Mitch tries.
My dad inhales and then lets out a long, audible breath.
“Sit down, honey,” my mom encourages, rubbing his back again, but he doesn’t move.
Why is he being so fucking dramatic?
“Mitt, this isn’t Mitch’s fault,” Farah explains. My brother grabs her hand and squeezes it tenderly. “It’s my job, and I can assure you I tried everything I could to stay in the country, but it’s not feasible.”
My dad ignores her, turning his head toward my brother. Every second of silence seems to fill the air like helium in a balloon, pulling the surface tighter and tighter until it threatens to burst completely.
“You know how much we have on the line right now,” my dad barks, shaking his head.
“I know,” my brother begins. “But Farah is my wife, and this promotion—”
Fleur, my parents’ private chef, walks backwards through the door holding a round cake covered in white icing, interrupting my brother.
“Dessert is serv—,” she sings in a French accent, flipping around.
She stops abruptly when she realizes she’s interrupted whatever the hell is going on here.
I let out a loud laugh that I quickly try to muffle when my father’s eyes shoot in my direction.
“Should I come back?” she asks, hesitantly.
“No, it’s fine,” my mom says through clenched teeth.
She pulls my dad back into his chair, and they both sit.
My father continues to glare in my brother’s direction while Fleur slices the cake and serves each of us.
The silence in the room is deafening, and I still can’t figure out why my sister-in-law’s promotion caused such a visceral reaction from my father.
“Dad, can we talk about this?” Mitch begs, once Fleur is back in the kitchen.
My father stands, throws his napkin across his plate, and then leaves the dining room.
I guess that’s a hard no.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” I ask, looking toward my brother.
“It’s complicated,” Mitch huffs out. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Why? Because I’m me? I know about your secret little meetings. Just tell me why you having to move is such a big deal. You’re an asset to the company, of course, but why is Dad reacting like this?”
Mitch downs his glass of wine. “Should I follow him?” he asks.
My mom shakes her head. “No, let him calm down. He’s stressed. We’re both really happy for you, Farah. Mitt will come around. He just needs time.”
My sister-in-law forces a smile, but her shoulders slouch.
“So, Tanner, what’s new with you?” my mom attempts to change the subject.
Oh, let’s see, I want to quit my job and buy a bar, but my big brother just completely fucked my plan with his little announcement.
“Not much. I still haven’t found a roommate.”
My brother picks at the slice of cake in front of him.
“You’re looking for a roommate?” she asks.
“Have been since the end of July,” I snap, my patience wearing thin, and my eyes shift back to Mitch. “Bro, talk to me. I think I at least deserve to know why he reacted that way.”
“Honey, don’t worry about it. Bella, did you tell Tanner you’re the cheer captain this year?”
I blink in my mother’s direction. She is actually acting like this dinner isn’t completely fucked, just carrying on like nothing happened.
“Mom, can you be so for real right now? Dad just stormed out of dinner. I don’t think Tanner wants to hear about me being the cheer captain,” Bella says with as much drama as you can expect from a sixteen-year-old.
“No, I do want to hear about it, and we will talk about it. But, you’re right. Right now, I’d like Mitch to tell me what’s going on with Dad.”
“I said it’s complicated,” he barks.
Of course he won’t tell me. It doesn’t matter that I work there too.
It doesn’t matter that I’m his brother. None of it ever matters.
I’m not Mitch. I’m not Bella. I’m just Tanner, and that’s not good enough.
If I ever needed confirmation that buying The Local was the right move, it’s this conversation.
“Right. Okay, well on that note. I’m gonna head out too.” I run my hands through my hair.
“You didn’t touch your cake, and I specifically asked her to make you red velvet because I know it’s your favorite,” my mom says.
“Red velvet’s not my favorite. Lemon is, and I’m suddenly not in the mood for cake.” I stand and begin to walk out of the room, only pausing to kiss Bella on the top of the head. “Bye, Bells. Congrats on the cheer thing. Farah, it was nice to see you. Congrats on the new gig.”
My mom and brother begin arguing about something behind me, but I don’t have it in me to listen to what it’s about.
The warm, summer air and the scent of cigarettes hits me in the face the minute I swing their front door open. I quickly close the door behind me and turn left to the side of the house.
“I thought you quit?” I ask, rounding the corner.
My dad throws the butt of his cigarette onto the stone driveway and stomps it out with his foot.
“Don’t tell your mother.”
“Yeah,” I breathe out, shaking my head.
“I’m sorry for storming out of dinner,” he says.
“It’s fine.” I shrug. “Farah deserves the apology, not me. Have a good night.” I turn to walk away, but he stops me.
“Wait, let me explain.”
I freeze. Part of me thinks I should leave, but I don’t. The other part of me thinks I should just tell him about the bar so that I can be done with this nonsense, but I don’t do that either. Instead, we stand there in silence for a few seconds, staring at one another.
The flood light illuminates his face. It’s amazing how little we look alike. He’s at least three inches shorter than me. His eyes are a brownish green. Younger Mitt even had dark brown hair, but now it’s gray. He looks exhausted. He looks old.
He rubs his hand down his face and exhales.
“I planned on taking a step back from the company at the end of the year.”
“Mitch knew?”
“Of course your brother knew. He was set to become the next President and CEO.”
“Of course your brother knew.” Funny they forgot to mention this was happening. Must have been talked about in one of the many meetings I wasn’t invited to.
“I’m sixty-five. I can’t keep doing this forever. He was my only option,” he explains. “If it’s not him, then we will have to bring in someone else.”
My stomach flips. Having a Mitchell lead the family business was all my granddad ever wanted.
I can practically see him turning over in his grave at the thought of someone with a different last name running the company.
The Local flashes in my head. I was so close to having something for me, but just like it always does, my family obligation tugs at my heart. This isn’t how it was supposed to be.
FUCKKKKKKKK.
“But it’s a family business. You promised Granddad you would keep it that way.”
“Your grandfather isn’t here anymore. I can’t keep doing this forever. I want to spend time with your mother. As hard as it is to admit, if your brother is leaving, then I have no other options.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be an option?” I can’t even believe the words coming out of my mouth.
A loud laugh bellows out of him, filling the quiet night. “I love you, Son, but I think you and I both know that isn’t in the best interest of the company.”
His words are a fist to my gut, and it’s clear. Mitch was the only option, not because he doesn’t think I want it, but because he thinks I can’t do it.
“I know I’m not Mitch, but I am a Mitchell. I closed that Cedar Hill deal this summer, and it’s going well. I know you haven’t had time to look at my plans, but maybe if you did—”
“The Cedar Hill acquisition is nothing compared to running an entire company. You still have a lot of growing up to do.”
“Then let me prove to you that I’m ready, that I can grow up. I want to be considered for the position.” I’m not sure if I’m more desperate for his approval or to prove him wrong, but once the words leave my mouth, I know I can’t take them back.
“Tanner, being the president and CEO of a company is not like one of your little hobbies. It’s serious, and it requires—”
“I know what it requires. I’m a Mitchell. I have my MBA. I’ve been an executive vice president for five years. I’m just as qualified as Mitch, and you know it.”
My dad rubs his temples. “Meet me at the office tomorrow at nine, and we will discuss it. I’m making no promises. Wear a suit, and don’t be late.”
Dude I’m going to have to bail on pickleball tomorrow
Logan:
Everything okay?
Family shit
No one died just gotta deal with something
Logan:
I understand. Don’t worry about it. Did you tell him about the bar?
Didn’t get the chance
Logan:
Shit
I’ll fill you in later