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“I don’t want to work for a person who dims my shine, Pops,” I said. “Valeting at the hotel for the summer won’t kill me,” I added.
“And then what?” he asked.
“Not sure yet.”
I swallowed the last forkful and headed for the sink with the plastic container in hand. After rinsing it off, I turned around and found my father looking at me disapprovingly.
“I love you, son. You know that, right?” he began. I nodded my agreement. “And you know I only want the best for you?” I nodded again.
I walked the ten steps from the sink around the island, stopping behind him, and wrapping my arms around him while I stuck my chin into the crook of his neck.
“Yes, Pops. I’m well aware of your intentions.”
Dad gripped my arms that held him from behind. “I worry about you, son.”
“And I appreciate that very much, but I’m working on things, Dad. Working on them my way. Can that be okay for now?” I asked.
“For how long then?” he asked, gently pushing like he tended to do.
“Give me the summer, Pops,” I stated, kissing the top of his head. “Let me pick up the pieces from Clint and then I promise I’ll focus on my future. I earned the college degree, didn’t I? I asked you to trust me about that, right?”
“Yes, you did,” he agreed. “I’ve got connections, Chad. Let your old man pull a few strings.”
“And look where that got you,” I pointed out, reminding him of the new neighbor and that busted opportunity.
Dad was about to respond when his cell phone buzzed. He held up the face of the iPhone to show me the caller ID. The screen read C. Hicks. My eyes widened when he picked up.
“Hello, Cole,” Dad said.
I heard the distorted voice on the other end of the call; the voice sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher from a childhood cartoon I’d watched, muffled and garbled from where I stood, directly behind Dad.
“Uh-huh,” Dad said, turning to face me. “Yes, I could do that, but he’s standing right here, Cole.”
I took a step back, slowly shaking my head. I didn’t want to speak to Mr. Uptight. There was more talking from the other end of the call before Dad covered the phone with his hand and looked at me.
“He wants to talk with you,” he whispered.
I scrunched up my nose, shaking my head, not wanting to talk. But I didn’t want to seem rude and also knew my father would never tolerate me being anything less than respectful.
I took the phone from Dad. “Hello, Mr. Hicks,” I said cautiously.
“I was just telling your father that I was too quick with my assessment of you, Chad,” he began. “The whole Jack thing caught me off guard and I acted unfairly.”
“I appreciate you saying that, sir. It’s very kind of you to take the time to call.”
“So, you’ll give me another chance?” he asked, getting right to the purpose of his call.
“No, sir, I’m going to have to pass on that,” I answered. “I was just leaving to get my old job back, but I appreciate the call and the opportunity.”
My father’s eyes expanded to two times their normal size after hearing my side of the conversation; the side that his face clearly revealed wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“Well, thank you for taking my call. Have a nice day, Chad,” Mr. Hicks said.
“And you too, sir. Yes, nice talking with you as well.”
I disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Dad.
“He called to offer you the job again, didn’t he?” Dad asked. I nodded and picked up my keys. My father was practically apoplectic. “And you just turned him down?” I nodded. “Just like that? And after he reached out and apologized?”
