Hate You Love You My Man~
1
I groan as I glance across the room at my father. Not again…
Clint (ML)
“Dad, we’ve talked about this.”
ML Father
“No, you’ve talked about it. I haven’t said my piece.”
ML Father
“But I know your spiel. Look, I’ve transplanted, and my roots are here now. My business is growing again. I’m still a newer kid on the block in the oil industry around here, so it’s taking time.”
ML Father
“But I’m okay with that. Besides, you don’t need me; you still have Try at home.”
My father huffs, then takes a drag of his cigar.
ML Father
“Until he goes off to college in the fall. Besides, when do you think your youngest brother is ever home? He’s a seventeen-year-old boy who’s just graduated from high school and has his own wheels. At that age, when were you home?”
ML Father
“I know it’s been hard since Mom’s death. The last eighteen months have been an adjustment for everyone.”
ML Father
“It’s not that. Open your eyes, son. The oil boom will likely bust again. Five years ago, this was a great business, and you were in the right place at the right time. Even Bethany agreed”
Bethany-his investment advisor, whom he constantly raves about.
ML Father
“But now, it’s time to cut your losses before they go any deeper. OPEC wants to put US oil production out of business, and they have the resources to make that happen. They did really well at choking your business last year.”
I can’t deny that. Twelve months ago, I was lamenting high costs and dismal profits.
Clint (ML)
“This year has been better so far.”
ML Father
“Slightly. C’mon, Clint. Do you really want to eke out a living? Sell this thing. You’ll get a pretty penny for the business, even if the industry isn’t at its hottest right now.”
He hunkers back in my favorite leather chair and takes a sip of his whiskey.
ML Father
“If your mother’s death taught me anything, it was that life is even shorter than people warn you. Forty-nine was way too young to die, but that didn’t matter. Her number was up. Watching her go through all that ****** cancer treatment just about killed me.”
Me, too. I wasn’t there for the worst since I moved to North Dakota at nineteen and went straight to work, eventually building my own oil services business from the ground up. But I came home for the end. Seeing her so frail and wasted devastated me. Losing her gutted my family.
Clint (ML)
"I know that Dad"
When I reach across the space to take his hand, he squeezes mine.
ML Father
“Look, I want to retire. I want to do all the things your mother and I planned to before I pass on. We were going to get season tickets to one of those fancy theaters. We were going to drive up Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco and see the sights. Hell, we were going to take a Hawaiian vacation. We didn’t follow through on any of those plans because we had three growing boys and always thought there would be time. And now…she’s gone.”
When my father chokes back emotion, I squeeze his hand again.
ML Father
“It’s not your fault. She would have chosen keeping you kids happy over a vacation any day.”
ML Father
“But she worked all her life and didn’t get to enjoy the quieter years. That upsets you, I know.”
ML Father
“Yes, but it upsets me more that I promised her I’d do all those things after she was gone. So far, I’ve done nothing but grieve and try to figure out how to carry on.”
Guilt tugs at me. If I stay in North Dakota, I’ll be following my own path. If I give that up to return to La-La Land, I’ll be helping my family, yes. But I’ll also be assuming a business that never interested me and putting myself smack-dab in the middle of crowds, congestion, and smog—all the reasons I left LA—again.
Clint (ML)
“What about Bret? He’s going to graduate from UCLA next year with a business degree. I never went to college. Would he be better equipped—”
ML Father
“You think he’s ready to leave the frat house and walk straight into a multimillion-dollar-a-year business? Hell, as far as I can tell he hasn’t pulled his head out of a keg in the last six months.”
ML Father
“I’m not trying to guilt you. I’m simply hoping you’ll see the wisdom of this idea. Your business might be drying up, depending on the price of oil per barrel. Mine is thriving, but it’s too much for me to handle these days. I’m just getting too old.”
Clint (ML)
“You’re only fifty-three.”
ML Father
“After your mother’s passing, I feel ancient.”
He’s not his usual, robust self. I know he’s not sleeping well, and I guess that’s age. But he seems more fatigued than I would have thought. Two years ago, he walked to my favorite fishing spot without any trouble. Today, he was short of breath on the same short trek. Even now, hours after our return, a fine sheen of perspiration beads on his forehead. Granted, it’s almost ninety degrees and humid as hell outside, but it’s comfortable in the air-conditioned house.
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2
Clint (ML)
“Dad, you just got here yesterday. Enjoy your vacation. Maybe you’ll feel refreshed at the end of two weeks and—”
ML Father
“I’ve been thinking about this for months. Now I want you to think about it. Please.”
Clint (ML)
“All right. I’ll consider it.”
ML Father
My father smiles wide. “Great. I worry about you out here, you know.”
I love the wide-open spaces and the down-to-earth people. Sure, it gets colder than a well-digger’s butt and summers can be miserably hot, but I appreciate the beauty of nature—something you see almost none of in Los Angeles.
ML Father
“I didn’t see many pretty single girls while we drove through town. There don’t seem to be any way out here, just a bunch of prairie dogs and cows. And I know better than to think they’re keeping you warm at night.”
Admittedly, that’s one of the biggest drawbacks to living in the middle of nowhere. I’ve already dated all the single women within a hundred-mile radius. None of them are for me. When I want to feel a warm female, I have to go to Williston or Bismarck, hit a bar, and hope I get lucky. Most often I do, but sometimes I strike out. It happens. North Dakota is one of the few states where males outnumber females, especially in the western half of the state, where the surge of oil workers has made the odds of hitting a home run shittier.
Clint (ML)
“No. I’m definitely not into anything with four legs, Dad.”
ML Father
“Come back to California. The timing is perfect. You can run my business. It’s booming. It will make you rich. You can stop getting your hands dirty every day.” He peers at the grease that seems permanently embedded under my fingernails, no matter how hard I scrub. “You can spend more time with me and your brothers. And I want to introduce you to Bethany.”
Clint (ML)
“I don’t need a financial advisor right now.” Especially not one in a state I don’t reside in.
ML Father
“Maybe not. It never hurts to start investing, in my opinion. But that’s not what I meant.”
Clint (ML)
“You’re trying to hook me up with her?”
ML Father
“She’s beautiful and smart and sweet. You’d like her, son. You’d like her a lot.”
I know zero about this woman, and since I don’t want to move to LA, I’m interested even less.
Clint (ML)
“You date her, Dad. You’re single.”
ML Father
“Oh, no. No. She’s way closer to your age than mine. She’s ambitious, on the quiet side, very direct. I trust her. At least let me introduce you next time you’re home…”
If I keep refusing, he’ll only keep wheedling. Like his entire proposition that I move back to LA and assume his business, it’s better to defer than refuse. For all I know, he may change his mind again tomorrow.
Clint (ML)
“I’ll think about it.”
He pastes on a big smile and whips out his phone, then presses and swipes until he finds his photos.
ML Father
“We took this last month when we got together for our quarterly meeting. She even brought me a bottle of my favorite whiskey for my birthday. I asked, and she’s single…”
To humor him, I lean in to look at the display. The smiling blonde looks chic and, I admit, stunning in a fitted, feminine gray sheath. Her rosy-pale coloring looks almost icy in the photo, but her eyes are a warm mossy green.
If I met her in a bar, I’d definitely try my luck. And I’d probably keep trying until she said yes. She’s hot.
Clint (ML)
“Well, I can’t fault your taste in women.”
He laughs heartily, then darkens his phone. Before he can pocket it, the device rings. Thank goodness for WiFi-supported calling. Out here, the cell service is shit.
Dad glances at the display.
ML Father
“It’s Brenda. One minute.”
His secretary. Probably work. I take that as my cue to head to the kitchen for another beer. When I turn back, my dad is rubbing at that spot just below his shoulder again. Did he pull a muscle?
Clint (ML)
“Another whiskey?” I ask just before he answers the call.
ML Father
“Hello?” He presses the phone to his ear and shakes his head.
As I head out of the room, I zone out from their conversation and flip on the kitchen radio. Garth Brooks and George Jones are singing a familiar, up-tempo song about a beer run. Grinning, I grab another brew from the fridge, pop off the cap, and take a swallow.
My dad has visibly aged recently, and I think it’s because his business runs him. It’s high demand. I guess that makes sense for insurance. But being a desk jockey would make me insane. I like spending time outdoors too much and I don’t mind getting my hands dirty. Not much call for that in his line of work. I definitely don’t want to talk all day about premiums and car accidents.
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3
As I toss the little metal disc in the nearby trash can, my father’s voice booms. I hear the shock. It’s a tone I’ve only heard once—after my mother’s doctors told my parents her ****** cancer was terminal. This blow is every bit as gut-deep and stunned.
I flip off the radio and go running, only to find my dad sheet-white and blinking as he clutches the phone.
He waves me away with a scowl and begins rubbing at the spot under his shoulder even harder.
ML Father
“Everything. I don’t… That’s thirty-five years of work. Of savings. Oh, shit. And he was arrested yesterday?”
What the hell is he talking about? And who?
ML Father
“Keep making phone calls. I’ll do the same and I’ll be on a plane home tomorrow. If you find out anything else… Yes. Of course. I’m going to call Bethany right now. Thank you.”
Clint (ML)
"What happened?"
ML Father
“According to Brenda, Barclay Reed, the head of my investment firm, was arrested yesterday. He’s been charged with running a giant Ponzi scheme, and every penny of his clients’ investments is gone.” He blinks as if he’s in total disbelief. “I’ve got to call Bethany. He’s her dad. Barclay, I mean. I’m not supposed to know that. She’s illegitimate. It’s hush-hush, but… She’ll tell me what’s happening. She’s honest. There must be some explanation. I saw her less than four weeks ago, and everything was fine. She showed me all the reports. My money was growing. It can’t suddenly be gone…”
He rises unsteadily to his feet. I ease him back down. He looks almost gray now. Shock, I suspect. But I’m worried. He’s sweating more and seems short of breath.
Clint (ML)
“Dad, sit here. Rest. I’ll get you packed and reserve you a plane ticket back to LA. If you get there and you need my help, I’ll fly out.”
ML Father
“I’ll call Bethany.”
Since I want to hear this conversation, I pretend to gather our personal effects around the room. I try to stay calm, but my thoughts are racing. My father has worked his *** off and sacrificed for decades to save a few million dollars. He’s well off, but he’s earned it. I’m mad that thieves ever steal from anyone, but for scammers to swindle the life savings of a man nearing the end of his money-earning years? Yeah, I’m furious.
ML Father
“No answer.” He presses the button to end the call. “I’m going to try again.”
But three attempts later, the “beautiful, smart, and sweet” financial advisor is nowhere to be found. How convenient. If Barclay is the prime suspect and Bethany is his daughter, odds are good she was involved, too. How dare that very pretty shark in a sheath look a lonely widower in the face and prey on his trust?
My father now looks waxen. He’s rubbing at his chest in earnest.
Clint (ML)
“Dad, are you all right? Are you in pain?”
ML Father
“Indigestion.” He waves me off. “Happens all the time. Maybe Bethany isn’t in the office. I’ll try her cell.”
I’d tell him to wait, but in his shoes, I would want to get to the bottom of this shit, too. Still, I’m worried.
I grab my phone to dial Gary, a buddy who happens to be the local family practitioner. Maybe he can tell me what’s going on or prescribe something for Dad’s anxiety.
ML Father
“Her phone went straight to voice mail. Oh, god.” He presses a hand to his chest as if he’s trying to keep it from falling apart. “She’s never not answered me. Ever.”
His expression tells me that he’s crushed. Shattered.
ML Father
“I’ve got to… I have to get…” My dad stumbles to his feet.
Clint (ML)
I pocket my phone and rush back to his side. “What?”
Now, he looks disoriented and pasty. I’m no longer concerned; I’m downright alarmed.
As I wrap my arm around my father to steady him, he grabs his chest again, eyes flaring wide as he makes an animal sound of pain and crumples to the hardwood floor.
ML Father
“Hurt,” he gurgles. “Ambulance.”
Holy shit. He’s having a ******* heart attack. The signs are all there.
And it will take an ambulance at least forty minutes to reach me.
Cold fear fills my veins with ice as I fall to my knees beside my dad. My fingers feel as if they’re moving in slow motion as I fumble for my phone, trying to unlock the display so I can dial.
It seems to ring forever before a woman answers
:: “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
I quickly fill her in and ask what I can do to help. Yes, he’s lying on the floor. Yes, he’s conscious—barely. No, he’s not breathing.
Oh, shit.
After advising me an ambulance is on the way, she asks if I have any aspirin in the house. I do, thank god.
Clint (ML)
“Dad.” I grab his hand. “Can you hear me?”
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