7
Garrick
BLISS HESITATED, THEN opened her mouth to speak. But she was interrupted by a bellowing voice calling my name.
“Garrick! Son!”
We both turned to look. My father called my name a second time. He waved me over and said, “Come here for a second.”
I sighed.
“Just go,” Mum said. “You know he won’t let it go until you do.”
“He’s just going to drag me into some conversation about business. I don’t want to subject myself to that, and I certainly don’t want to subject Bliss to that.”
“So leave her with me.”
I tried not to look too alarmed by that. “Oh no, Mum. That’s okay. Bliss and I would rather stay together, since it is our engagement party.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure Bliss could use a break from you anyway. If you’re anything like your father, you’re nauseatingly cheerful.” That might be one of the nicer things I’d ever heard her say about him. “Besides, if you’re only giving me a week with my future daughter-in-law, I’m going to need all the time I can get with her.”
She spoke like a trainer trying to break in a horse, or an interrogator trying to break a witness. And from the look on Bliss’s face, you’d think she was going to be waterboarded instead of subjected to conversation with my mother.
I stared into Bliss’s wide eyes. I didn’t want to leave her alone with my mother, but she had been holding her own since we came downstairs. And Mum had on her business smile, and I knew I wasn’t going to win this one. Truthfully, there was no arguing with either of my parents. If my dad wanted me to go talk to him, I would have to. And if Mum wanted Bliss to stay with her, she’d get her way. That’s why I hadn’t bothered with telling them when I decided to leave London. God knows we’d spent enough time arguing about a thousand other things. Like a pendulum swing, the more I grew up, the farther I swung from my parents’ beliefs and habits in every respect. So I’d waited to tell them I was leaving until I was already in the States and called from a pay phone.
My last year before uni, life just started moving so fast. Things were unraveling quicker than I could take hold of them, and it felt like trying to stop a boulder from rolling down a hill. My life was falling into these predetermined paths, and it didn’t even really feel like I was living as much as reacting. I hated it, but I didn’t know how to stop it, other than to leave. Clean slate.
My father called my name again, and I sighed. “Fine. But I’m not spending all night talking to clients or business prospects or whoever he’s playing tonight.
“I’ll be quick,” I promised Bliss. Her expression was blank, and I couldn’t tell now how she was feeling, but her frequently flushed skin looked a wee bit pale. I kissed her forehead, and then did the same to my mother.
“Be nice,” I murmured.
Mum gave a single, solitary chuckle. That was either a very good or a very bad sign.
Two minutes. I’ll be back in two minutes.
I gave Bliss one more parting kiss, and then feeling like the worst fiancé ever, I left her to fend off her shark while I faced mine.
Already eager for the conversation to be over, I stepped up to my father’s group and said, “Yes, Dad?”
“Oh, good. Garrick, you remember Mr. Woods. You did that summer internship at his firm.”
Advertising, I think? Honestly, I couldn’t remember. Dad pushed me into so many internships, they all ran together.
“Of course, Mr. Woods. It’s nice to see you again.”
Mr. Woods was old, in his sixties or seventies maybe. He wore large glasses and his hair was a pale white. His smile made all the wrinkles around his mouth more pronounced, and his skin was worn and wrinkled like old leather as I shook his hand.
“And you as well. That’s a lovely fiancée you have there.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I love her very much, and she keeps my life interesting.”
He barked a laugh, his wrinkles almost disappearing for a second as he did.
“You’re just as spirited as I remember you. Your father has been filling me in on your life in the States. Quite impressive.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. My father had no doubt embellished to the point that I’d probably become the youngest tenured professor at Harvard or some other nonsense.
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t say it was all that impressive.”
“Not easily satisfied. I like that. You’ll be outdoing your father in no time, I’m sure.”
Dad laughed and hooked an arm around my neck like we were wrestling, “Not without a fight he won’t.”
It was all so staged, so forced. And I couldn’t tell if everyone else felt it, or if they were so accustomed to it that they didn’t even notice it anymore.
The men and women gathered around us laughed, and I followed out of habit.
Eight years.
It had been over eight years since I’d moved away, and in less than an hour, I was already getting pulled back into the lifestyle I hated. Fancy parties, nice things, expensive clothes, all covered by a layer of fake so thick that it choked out every real emotion.
It had to have been two minutes by now. And even that felt like two minutes too many.
“It was so nice seeing you again, Mr. Woods, but I should get back to my fiancée.” I nodded at the rest of the people in the group and said, “Ladies. Gentlemen.”
“Just one second before you run off, Garrick.”
I stopped short, and tried not to look aggravated.
“Yes, Mr. Woods?”
Gradually, the others around us began to break off until it was just my old boss and my father.
“I wanted to talk to you about a job opening—”
Jesus. Not even a decent night’s sleep before it started.
“Oh, sir, I—”
“Now hear me out. I have a PR position open, the same division where you did your internship actually. And I’ve been through half a dozen men in the last three years for this position. They’re all smart enough, but they’re just missing that special quality that attracts people, that makes clients feel at ease. They’re not like you or your father.” I tried not to bristle at being compared to my father and the quality I despised most in him. “I remember you doing fantastic work in your internship. And by the sound of what your father has told me, you’re quick to adapt and learn.” He pulled out a business card from his pocket and held it out to me. “Just think about it. Give me a call, and we’ll talk it all through. It doesn’t hurt to just consider it.”
I looked at the card, but didn’t take it.
“That’s very kind, Mr. Woods. But Bliss and I have no plans to move to London.” I directed my last few words to my father, as firmly as I could without seeming angry.
For the first time, my dad cut in and said, “Maybe it’s something you should think about, Garrick. It’s a good job.”
I’m sure it was a fine job. But it wasn’t a coincidence that this interest was coming now with my father watching on. He was a puppeteer pulling strings, but I’d cut mine a long time ago.
Mr. Woods added, “If it makes a difference, I’m sure it would be a significant step-up in pay from teaching, and we’d cover your relocation.”
If it were a significant step-up from teaching, it would be about three or four steps up from what I was doing now. It had been difficult segueing back into part-time work and small contracts from my comfortable job at the university. But we were making it.
I took the card just to end the ambush and said, “I’ll think about it. But I really am happy where I’m at.”
I could feel my father’s stare, but I didn’t meet his gaze.
I nodded at Mr. Woods. “It was nice seeing you again. Thank you for coming. Enjoy the party.”
Then I turned, and stuffed the card into my pocket. I made it just a few feet before my father stopped me for our first private conversation of the night. In years, really.
“I know what you’re thinking, Garrick, but you should give this job a fair shot.”
“I have a job, Dad.” Several, actually.
“But this is a job that could really lead somewhere. If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll be forty and working at a restaurant to make ends meet. These kinds of opportunities won’t be around then.”
“Thanks for the confidence, Dad.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re an adult. You don’t need me in the stands cheering you on and lying to you. You’re about to have a wife, a new life. What you need is to grow up and get a real job. Something with real benefits.”
Oh, the irony of him lecturing me on what was real.
“Thanks for the talk, Dad. But I need to go find Bliss and Mum.”
I maneuvered around him and left before he could drag me back into the argument. I was halfway across the room before I really looked around.
Bliss wasn’t where I’d left her. And neither was my mother.