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His voice is a massive weapon, and he wields it well. His dark and ominous tone has entered the chat. “They put the provisions in our hands. And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to hand over an extraordinary sum of cash to someone who’s going to piss it away traipsing across the world making television for fools.”
“Dad, I provide entertainment and education. It’s not about the alcohol. I mean it was but it’s more now. I want it to be more.” Pivot. I need to get out of this.
“You’re very charming on the show but it’s not a way to be in the world. It won’t provide for you throughout your life. Entertainment has a value but it’s not a service.”
“It is. People could use a little more of it.”
“Watch your tone, boy.”
“Boy? Didn’t you just call me a 35-year-old man who needs to get his shit together? Which is it? Boy or man?”
Shit, now we’re down the anger rabbit hole now.
“Zane.” Her voice is gentle in contrast but still has a backbone of steel running through it. She’s stronger than he is.
“Yes, Mom.” She sits down in the matching uncomfortable chair and I swear she winces when her butt hits the seat.
“We’re only doing this because you haven’t.” And then she pushes too far. “Look how your best friend has gotten his life together.”
“Yes, but up until ten months ago you thought Colin was a fuckup. You dismissed him because he was just a bartender. He has a James Beard Award, multiple national accolades, press features and made more money than most careers, Mom.”
“We never thought of him as just a bartender.”
“Didn’t you? Stop it. Stop comparing me to people around me as an excuse to justify this humiliating lecture.”
Well, that’s not going to land but let’s see what happens.
Dad’s tone seethes a bit. “We’re done financing, this, life…” He stumbles over the word lifestyle. I appreciate the restraint. “of yours.”
“First off, I’ve earned my way in the world. I bought my townhouse in Boston and my car and continue to pay for things. The production company only got behind six months ago and now I’m cut off? Is that the gist of this conversation?”
He moves around the desk but I don’t flinch.
“Zane, we need one element of stability in your life that isn’t your best friend. Something we can point to and see you’re serious about growing up. Reliable employment with a real future, community, a family, church, a partner or just a goddamned purpose. Hell, we’ll settle for a lawn.”
“I’ll buy a patch of grass.” My mother glares. I put my hands up, exhaling slowly. “Church? You don’t even go to church.”
“I go to church,” Mom says.
“I know you do, Mom. I’m saying Dad.”
“Major holidays and when your mother asks. That’s true. But I have one. Where I know the pastor, the people and have a favorite pew.” He has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “Son, you have six months to put some footing underneath you.”
“And Nate has footing because he’s getting married for the third time?”
“Nate has a stable job and things on the horizon.”
My big brother always has things on the horizon that mysteriously fall apart. My mother puts her hand on my shoulder and I hold it.
“We care about you very much. We don’t want to see you throwing your life away.”
“Thanks,” I say and he almost smiles.
“In six months, you’ll start at the company. You’ll go through three departments, six weeks each. We’ll see where your talents settle.”
“My talents are on camera. Interpersonal. Writing. Talking to people who have stories to tell.”
“I’ve seen the show.”
