Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Well, I think she’s faking, or at least exaggerating her exasperation with us.
“Moving forward, let’s start by not yelling at each other ever again, because that was overwhelming, to say the least. Both of you, use your words respectfully.” Mom’s treating us like misbehaving children, but we kinda deserve it, so I nod and Dad does too.
“No more ‘I’m disappointed in you’ lectures and glares,” I suggest.
“Unless you deserve it,” Dad amends. I narrow my eyes, gauging his commitment to improving things. He cocks his head and adds, “You’re grown, but you’re still learning, and I might have some insight to offer on occasion if you’ll pull your head out of your ass and listen.”
“Fine, but I reserve the right to tell you any and all advice sucks.”
We stare at each other for a long second before we both agree.
This is a renegotiation of our entire relationship, and Dad’s an excellent negotiator, so I need to be careful here or I’m going to walk myself into a corner.
“No driving your bike through the yard,” Dad declares, and I nod because that’s an easy concession. It bothered Ira more than Dad, anyway.
“Leave my business alone. No pity contracts, no snooping on my finances, no referrals for a friend of a friend. I’m doing fine—better than fine, honestly—and don’t want it associated with the Harrington name because it’s mine and mine alone.”
Dad slyly grins and leans toward Mom. “I see it now.” Mom answers with a grin of her own, and something about what I said must confirm that Dad and I are alike.
But we’re not.
Dad inherited Blue Lake from Grandpa Chuck. And while he’s grown the family business from a small investment firm to a massive global empire, it’s not the same.
Except maybe it is?
I’m not looking to be the pool king, but I want to build something with my own hands, heart, and brain. And while Dad never dug in the literal dirt, he had to sift through some muck to find the right opportunities to make Blue Lake the success that it is today. And that took time and dedication, the same things I have to give to my business in order to succeed.
Well, fuck. Maybe Mom’s right, after all.
“To be clear, that water park contract wasn’t a pity offer. It was genuine. But I did only consider it because of you, so when you said no, I turned it down. I respect that you want to do things on your own, so… agreed.”
Dad respects me? And how I do business? The idea is such a surprise that it knocks me back.
“Family dinners—every time and on time,” Mom spits out. “And no boots on the table or dirty boot prints on my clean floor.”
Apparently, we’re doing a full mediation on my relationship with the family, but if that’s what Mom wants, I can do that. “Maybe not every time because I might be busy, but as often as I can. And I’ll be on time.” Mom smiles like she considers that a win. “And no boots or mess on the floor.”
“Speaking of busy,” she drawls out, “how did things go with Dani last night? Did she get scared off?” Mom cringes, her face screwed up like she’s afraid of the answer.
“I don’t think Dani’s scared of anything, except maybe the way she feels about me. She’s not exactly looking for someone, but I’m not exactly giving her a choice.” I smile, remembering how she held me last night until I passed out, with her body against mine, but more importantly, her heart taking care of me. I know what a big demand that is of a woman like her, but she did it willingly, and I think that’s a good sign.
Dad dips his chin, looking pleased at that, and I have to almost wonder in amazement that the first look of pride he has in me that I notice is that I’m chasing after a woman the way he apparently chased after Mom.
“Good. Please bring her to dinner again. And tell her that the two of you will be on your best behavior.” Mom makes that a reminder to us as much as an enticing promise for Dani.
“I will.”
I look at Mom and Dad, and it feels like the last ten or so years are better. Not gone. The damage is still there on both sides. But it’s at least patched over with some good sealant, not bubble gum, spit, and a prayer.
I stand, feeling a lot better than I did when I arrived. And for the first time ever, I hold my hand out to Dad. He looks at it for a moment and then slides his hand against mine. He shakes it for three pumps, but before I can withdraw my hand, he pulls me in for a hug.