Chapter Thirty-Two
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Samuel thought it a farce, the nightly meal with everyone present, his parents, wife, and son. Yes, they lived in the same house, but the formal meals seemed pretentious. It reminded him of the TV show Dallas with Nathaniel the reigning omnipotent patriarch.
Amanda looked to her husband as the dinner concluded. Samuel leaned over and affectionately kissed his wife’s cheek. “I need to speak to my father for a few minutes. I’ll be upstairs in a little while.”
She smiled. “All right, I’ll be waiting.”
“I won’t be long.” He saw the unspoken question in his wife’s eyes. Then he whispered, “I’ll fill you in later, I promise.” Amanda’s eyes smiled, as she looked into Samuel’s face. In a family like theirs, so much had to be said without words, they all knew the rules. Nothing was ever questioned in front of Nathaniel. Samuel was thankful Amanda was willing to deal with her father-in-law’s rules. Having each other made it worth it; Amanda and Samuel adored one another.
“Anton and I will be upstairs.”
Their son, home from boarding school, watched his parents. “I’ll be up in a minute, Mother, I need to do something.” Amanda smiled at her husband and son. Anton had grown so much during the past semester. Only fifteen, he stood half a foot taller than her and was still growing. His eyes could shine, but on occasion they also showed his grandfather’s darkness. His parents wanted more than anything to keep that blackness away.
Amanda nodded. “All right, maybe we can watch a movie when we all get to our suites? I have some new videos.” She began the ascent up the grand stairs. Samuel straightened his neck and walked down the corridor toward his father’s office. The double doors stood as a barrier to the inflexible man within. Inhaling deeply, he formed a fist. Respectfully, he knocked on the grand double doors and listened for the words from within. “Come in.”
Samuel knew this wasn’t going to go well. His father knew his displeasure with the recent direction of Rawls Corp. Now the recent positive slant and the unexpected shareholder acceptance were too much. These ideas from Jared Clawson had to stop.
One idea reaped Rawls millions. The next cost them millions. Currently, the balance sheet was in their favor, but the risks and the possible legal repercussions weren’t worth the benefits. Stepping into the large office, Samuel silently prayed he would be able to make his father see his point of view.
The man behind the desk sat bold and defiant. “I wondered how long it would take you to confront me.”
“I didn’t think we needed an audience.” Samuel closed the double doors, unaware they were slightly ajar.
“Always worried about others’ opinions”—Nathaniel grinned—“Obviously, a trait you received from your mother. I don’t give a damn what others think.”
“Perhaps you should.” Samuel offered.
“Speak your mind.”
“You know my thoughts. You need to get rid of Jared Clawson. You need to stop these alternative means of financial gain.”
Nathaniel’s laugh rumbled through the office. “I need?”
“Father—I’m sorry—maybe need isn’t the best word. You should.”
“You’re sorry? You’re a weak piece of shit!” Nathaniel stood and walked around his grand desk, facing his son. “Haven’t you learned anything? Don’t apologize! Apologies are for cowards, they make you appear weak.”
Standing tall, Samuel continued his mission. “This situation is getting out of hand.”
Nathaniel laughed again. “Out of hand—like we’re making millions upon millions, and that’s bad?”
“We were doing well before, and it was legal.”
“So what part of these profits don’t you like? Your wife’s enjoying the money and your son’s enjoying the best education. You, your wife, your son will never know what it’s like to be without. Tell me again what you don’t like.”
“I believe they would’ve been happy with our earnings before. Amanda and Anton don’t need excess—neither do I”—Samuel watched his father turn back toward his plush leather chair—“And neither does Mother.”
Changing directions, Nathaniel abruptly turned and struck his son’s left cheek. “Don’t you ever tell me what your mother needs. You have no idea what she’s been through. You’ve never lived as we did. Money is good for one thing—it buys what you need—what you want, and because of my decisions, you and Anton will never worry about money. Do not ever tell me what to do with my business and don’t apologize. I raised you better than that!”
Samuel knew there wasn’t an answer for his father. He turned to walk away.
“Where are you going—boy?” Nathaniel bellowed.
“I’m going upstairs to my wife. Do you have a problem with that?”
“You’re going upstairs—to the upper level of my house. No. I don’t have a problem—do you?”
“No, Father, I do not.” Samuel exited the office.
Before he shut the large doors, Samuel saw Anton’s expression as he hurried down the corridor. The teenager had witnessed the entire scene. Samuel hoped when they were up in their suite, they could talk about it. His son would know discussions were welcome.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
—Reinhold Niebuhr