boredom.
Finally, Dad steers the conversation back to the most important thing. But, crafty guy that he is, he does it in such a way that it doesn’t seem obvious. At least I hope it doesn’t.
“So how’d that fishing trip go? Catch anything?”
I don’t fish. Nash did, but I never have. Dad knows that. And that’s how I know that we’re not really talking about fishing.
“Nah, it was a no-go. Ended up spending the weekend hiding out. You know, to work.”
He nods slowly, meaningfully. I know he picked up on my use of the term “hiding out.”
“It can be dangerous. To work too much.”
“Yeah, I know it can be,” I say, nodding for emphasis. Still he watches me closely. It’s like we’re carrying on a much deeper conversation without saying a word.
“Gonna have to hand over some of the important duties to someone else I think.” I hope he understands what I’m really going to have to hand over.
“Sometimes you have to do what you have to do, Cash. Things don’t always turn out like we want. Or like we plan. Sometimes, you just have to go with it and do what you think is best. It’s all about surviving this life.”
“I feel like my hands are tied.”
He nods again. “Well, giving up everything can have a whole different set of consequences. Do you have a Plan B?”
I shake my head, raising my hand helplessly. “No, but I’m open for suggestions. I’ve still got time. Just not much. The club’s in trouble.” He scratches his chin, still watching me. “Anything you can think of that might help? Anything else I can do?”
“You’re so damned stubborn,” he murmurs. “You had to go all in, didn’t you? With that club. And risk someday going down with the ship.”
Before Dad got arrested, he didn’t want me to have the books, didn’t want me involved. I convinced him that not only would they provide us with some leverage, but that they would also keep me safe. As long as Dad’s employers knew the books were…somewhere, they could never risk making a move until they confirmed who had them or where they were.
Only now they’ve confirmed the who.
“That’s what I’m trying to avoid. Thought you might have some advice. You’re a pretty smart old man, after all.” I say this with a grin, a loving one. And Dad recognizes it. I see it in his eyes, all the affection I have for him reflected there.
“You need help at the club.”
“I’m open to it. Any suggestions?”
“Here’s what you do. Take out two ads in the paper.”
“Does anyone still use an actual newspaper?” I tease.
“Some people do,” he says with a casual shrug. In this case, “some people” must be pretty important people. “But there’s an online place you can advertise, too. Don’t put the second ad in there. Only the first one. You might get a quicker response from it.”
He goes on to tell me exactly where to place the ads and how to word them. I make notes in the crappy burner phone I’m carrying.
“You should hear something in a few days. At the latest. Maybe getting some help around there will free you up a little more.”
“Yeah. This is really becoming a problem for some of my employees, too.”
He knows that Olivia bartends for me.
“Well, this might be the answer then. Sometimes it takes drastic measures.”
“I’m desperate. At this point, I’d be willing to try pretty much anything.”
He nods again, but says nothing. In his eyes, I see regret. Deep, painful regret and sorrow. Although he doesn’t have the details, he knows that things are starting to go sideways. Coming to a head. And not in a good way, not in our way. Having to hand over the books was never part of the plan, never a consideration. After all this time, I never thought…well, I just never thought. And not thinking has cost me. And it might keep costing me.
Unless I can figure out something
Finally, Dad steers the conversation back to the most important thing. But, crafty guy that he is, he does it in such a way that it doesn’t seem obvious. At least I hope it doesn’t.
“So how’d that fishing trip go? Catch anything?”
I don’t fish. Nash did, but I never have. Dad knows that. And that’s how I know that we’re not really talking about fishing.
“Nah, it was a no-go. Ended up spending the weekend hiding out. You know, to work.”
He nods slowly, meaningfully. I know he picked up on my use of the term “hiding out.”
“It can be dangerous. To work too much.”
“Yeah, I know it can be,” I say, nodding for emphasis. Still he watches me closely. It’s like we’re carrying on a much deeper conversation without saying a word.
“Gonna have to hand over some of the important duties to someone else I think.” I hope he understands what I’m really going to have to hand over.
“Sometimes you have to do what you have to do, Cash. Things don’t always turn out like we want. Or like we plan. Sometimes, you just have to go with it and do what you think is best. It’s all about surviving this life.”
“I feel like my hands are tied.”
He nods again. “Well, giving up everything can have a whole different set of consequences. Do you have a Plan B?”
I shake my head, raising my hand helplessly. “No, but I’m open for suggestions. I’ve still got time. Just not much. The club’s in trouble.” He scratches his chin, still watching me. “Anything you can think of that might help? Anything else I can do?”
“You’re so damned stubborn,” he murmurs. “You had to go all in, didn’t you? With that club. And risk someday going down with the ship.”
Before Dad got arrested, he didn’t want me to have the books, didn’t want me involved. I convinced him that not only would they provide us with some leverage, but that they would also keep me safe. As long as Dad’s employers knew the books were…somewhere, they could never risk making a move until they confirmed who had them or where they were.
Only now they’ve confirmed the who.
“That’s what I’m trying to avoid. Thought you might have some advice. You’re a pretty smart old man, after all.” I say this with a grin, a loving one. And Dad recognizes it. I see it in his eyes, all the affection I have for him reflected there.
“You need help at the club.”
“I’m open to it. Any suggestions?”
“Here’s what you do. Take out two ads in the paper.”
“Does anyone still use an actual newspaper?” I tease.
“Some people do,” he says with a casual shrug. In this case, “some people” must be pretty important people. “But there’s an online place you can advertise, too. Don’t put the second ad in there. Only the first one. You might get a quicker response from it.”
He goes on to tell me exactly where to place the ads and how to word them. I make notes in the crappy burner phone I’m carrying.
“You should hear something in a few days. At the latest. Maybe getting some help around there will free you up a little more.”
“Yeah. This is really becoming a problem for some of my employees, too.”
He knows that Olivia bartends for me.
“Well, this might be the answer then. Sometimes it takes drastic measures.”
“I’m desperate. At this point, I’d be willing to try pretty much anything.”
He nods again, but says nothing. In his eyes, I see regret. Deep, painful regret and sorrow. Although he doesn’t have the details, he knows that things are starting to go sideways. Coming to a head. And not in a good way, not in our way. Having to hand over the books was never part of the plan, never a consideration. After all this time, I never thought…well, I just never thought. And not thinking has cost me. And it might keep costing me.
Unless I can figure out something
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