Chapter 8
GROW UP
The dinging of the phone made Dean sit up in bed. No one ever called him early in the morning so that meant something had to be wrong. Either family or the bar.
When he reached over to grab it, he saw it was his sister, Willow, calling and that it was six.
Damn, he’d overslept. “Hello.”
“Dean?” Willow said. “Are you sleeping?”
“I was,” he said, swinging his legs over the bed and rubbing his hands through his hair.
“Must have been a late night. Sorry, I thought you got home earlier now that you’re a dad.”
“I got home at nine, in bed at ten. Guess I slept harder than normal.” Thankfully Jonah did too and he didn’t get his son up until seven. Even if Dean slept until seven, Jonah wouldn’t know. His son didn’t like waking in the morning, but they had shit to do on his day off of Pre-K.
“I don’t know how you manage it all.”
Sometimes he didn’t either.
“Is there a reason you called?” he asked. He wasn’t close to anyone in his family. If he had to say one person he wouldn’t mind being stuck in a room with for more than an hour, it’d be his younger sister, Willow. Three hours was the max though. Their ten year age difference played a huge part.
“I just need someone to vent to.”
Which meant either his grandfather or his mother was putting the pressure on her as they did him. “What happened this time?”
“I’ve got one more year of business school and I just don’t want to finish. It’s not for me.”
He snorted. “Willow. How many degrees do you even have?”
“I don’t know. The first two don’t count because they were what Grandpa thought I should do. I never wanted to work in fashion or be an interior decorator. Just because I like to look good or putter around the house doesn’t mean I wanted that to be my life.”
“You’re at fault for giving in to him.”
“He controls our money,” Willow said.
“No. You let him. I got away from that.”
“Yeah, well, thanks to you, we aren’t allowed to get the money unless we are following through with things. Why is he that way?”
He laughed. “Don’t put that blame on me. I’m not getting controlled by anyone. I’ve watched it with Mom and Dad. Dad likes the lifestyle too much. So does Mom. Everyone in the family has just fallen in line if they wanted to see those extra greenbacks.”
“Except you. The apple of Grandpa’s eye. I think ‘the betrayal’ hurt worse. Your betrayal. He had such high hopes for you.”
This was the last shit he wanted to deal with this morning.
Being blamed for things beyond his control.
He was the only one not willing to be a puppet, yet somehow it was his fault.
“You’re just going to piss me off,” he said, standing up and finding a pair of shorts to slip on. He slept naked and loved it, but he didn’t enjoy walking to his kitchen buck-assed naked where people could see through the windows if they were looking. He’d learned that the hard way years ago.
“I feel like we are all watched more now.”
He was in the kitchen putting coffee in the filter. He was old school—none of that one cup flavored shit. He drank it black, strong, and by the potful.
“Go out and get a job like a real person.”
He had no sympathy for anyone. Not his mother, his father, his sister, or any of his kiss ass cousins. No one had their own mind but him and he wasn’t going to be blamed for the tighter reins on their trust funds.
And when he could have used help or support after finding out he was going to be a father, no one even cared.
Why?
Because he wasn’t in a relationship with Corinda. He wasn’t going to marry her or have happily ever after.
Hell, she didn’t even want to be part of their son’s life.
Just another embarrassment to the Easton name.
Fuck them all. He was living his life and living it damn well.
“I want to, but it’s so expensive to live in Manhattan where all my friends are. You know that. You don’t live here anymore.”
“Nope, and I’m never going back there for anything more than a quick visit.”
“Weren’t you scared when you put your money in the stock market? You could have lost it all.”
He would have lost even more if he had followed the path his family had set for him.
“Very few things in life are easy. Lots of things come with hard work and risk. Suck it up, Willow. You can continue to stay under the old man’s thumb, or you can take a stand.”
“Can I come and stay with you?”
Fuck no. “Ah, I’m not sure if that is such a good idea,” he said.
“Why? I can help with Jonah. I haven’t seen him in over a year.”
And that was the reason she wasn’t coming.
“If it was really about Jonah, then you would have visited or called more. You’re only asking because you don’t want to finish school. I’m not going to be your crutch or your excuse.”
“Don’t be that way, Dean,” Willow said, then sniffled. He should be the one crying right now for having to start his day this way.
He blew out a breath.
Sometimes he was just a sucker.
“What is it you want to do if you don’t want to finish school?”
“I want to cook.”
“Like a chef?” he asked. “You think you’re going to come here and work in my kitchen?
You won’t last five minutes with Marcus.
” There was silence on the other end. “Listen, Willow. Go to the old man, tell him you want to be a world-renowned chef. You want to train in Paris. You want to travel the world learning all the cuisines of the rich and famous. He’ll eat that right up. ”
“Yeah, he would. But I don’t want to do those things. I don’t want to travel everywhere. I just want to go somewhere and learn and then come back to my friends and family.”
“Cooking or baking?” he asked. He had to be a glutton to keep this conversation going.
“Baking,” she said. “You know how much I love baking.”
“Do you want to go to France? Pastry school or something?”
“I’d love it.”
He could pay for it for her. He wanted to say that too. He would as a last resort if he knew she really wanted to do that. His sister was just as wishy washy as his parents. They couldn’t decide on their own and floated with the way the leaves blew in the fall.
That was part of the reason his grandfather controlled so much. His grandfather said it hurt because Dean wasn’t as much like him as his grandfather had hoped for. Sure, he didn’t take shit from anyone. He didn’t take orders. And he lived his own life.
But one of these days his grandfather would see that his namesake was like him in personality, but that didn’t mean he had to take after him for his career.
That day wasn’t today though and there was no reason to even think it’d come in the next ten years.
“Then do what I said. If not, get used to being squished under his thumb.”
“What happens if he says no?”
“Then if it’s what you want to do, you find a way. Maybe you could pay for it yourself with your trust fund money.”
“I don’t want to use my money for school. I shouldn’t have to.”
The pout in her voice just grated on his nerves.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Willow, other than these are first world problems that most would laugh you out of a room with. You need to grow up.”
“It’s easy for you to say when you’ve got your own millions.”
He was losing his patience. “That I earned on my own.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Was there anything else you wanted? I need to get Jonah up and get started on our day.”
“No. Thanks for listening, Dean.”
“Anytime,” he lied.
He hung up, filled his cup with his dark roast coffee and took it into the bathroom with him to drink in the shower.
When he was in the kitchen making breakfast to have ready for Jonah, he thought of Willow and her problems.
Most of what he lived with and grew up with also.
His grandfather, D.T. Easton, who he was named after and everyone thought he’d replicate like a freaking clone.
Hell, even D.T. stopped operating when he was in his fifties because he invented a tiny device that was making him damn close to a billionaire. That device and many others his grandfather consulted on and patented were being used in open heart surgeries all over the world.
The lure of having Dean follow in his shoes was so his grandfather could have him be the face of his legacy when he was gone.
Dean was no one’s face but his own.
Talk about a turnaround in attitude about life.
Once the pancake batter had been poured onto the griddle, he climbed the stairs and rounded the corner to his son’s room.
“Hey, Jonah,” he said, shaking the small shoulder. “Time to get up. Breakfast is ready.”
Jonah turned over, opened his eyes and stretched. “Hi, Dad. Is it just you and me today?”
“Sorry, bud. Not yet. But we’re going to eat and get your haircut and then we can play before Carly comes over.”
“Can I go to work with you today?”
He loved Jonah wanted to be such a part of his life and career. “It’s not really the place for a four-year-old.”
“But if the bar isn’t open, I can still be there right? I’ve done it before.”
He had. When Carly had an appointment in the morning. He tried to be as flexible as he could. Now with Jonah being in Pre-K, Carly had more time off. She didn’t even start her day until it was time to pick him up at two on those days.
Three days a week, and one day he didn’t work, so she got that day off along with Sundays.
“Get up so I can flip the pancakes. They are probably burning now,” he said laughing.
Jonah rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom next to his room, so he returned to the kitchen.
He picked his phone up and sent a text to Carly that he’d take Jonah to the bar with him if she wanted to get him before they opened at eleven.
“I’m starving,” Jonah said, running in and pulling the chair out at the island, then climbing in it.
His hair was standing up everywhere. “You’re always starving.”
The pancakes were flipped, only slightly darker than normal but not a big deal, then he grabbed plates.
“I want three,” Jonah said.
“Three it is. Then we are getting dressed and you need a haircut today and Carly will pick you up at the bar before it opens.”
Jonah’s fist flew in the air. “Yes. I’m spending time with Dad today.”
And that right there, that is the reason for everything he did.
Not once in his life had he ever wanted to spend time with any family member, but seeing his son react that way, made him realize that every change he’d done in his life wasn’t just for him. It was for the next generation of Eastons.