Adam asked the question that was eating at me, but I'd learned long ago to never rush my father along when he was talking. It was always best to let him spell things out in his own time. He'd eventually come to the point. Adam, though, hadn't had the same experience.
“It means,” my dad sat up tall in his seat, and his voice grew firmer, “that I expect both of my sons to give me grandchildren while I'm still capable of appreciating them. Before I lose my senses and don't have the ability to remember any of you, let alone my grandkids. Doctors say that can be anywhere from nine months to a year from now, maybe longer. But, he also said to not count on it, that it was a very fluid timeline.”
Adam scoffed, and I remained perfectly still, studying my father's face very carefully.
My half-brother said, “Nine months?” he asked, his voice colored with disdain. “You do realize how long it takes to have a child, right?”
My dad's gaze drifted from me over to Adam, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at him. My mom stiffened and stared down at Adam as if she'd forgotten he was there. Call it selective memory. Both of my parents seem disturbed by his bluntness, and while I couldn't blame them, I was glad someone came out and asked the hard questions. I was even more glad that it wasn't me.
Dad's voice rumbled through the office, “Well, you better start trying then, shouldn't you?”
Terrance cleared his throat and opened a file on the desk in front of him. He pulled out a couple sheets of paper and slipped both Adam and myself a copy of Dad's last will and testament. Just seeing the words at the top of the page sent a jagged bolt of pain through my heart that I wasn't ready to deal with. “I'd encourage you two to look everything over,” Terrance said. “And if you have any questions, you can call me anytime. I'll help you through all the legalese and get you pointed in the right direction.”
Dad stood with mom's help. “That should be all, thank you Terrance,” he said. “Let me walk you out.”
The two men walked around the desk, and dad patted me on the back as he passed on the way to the door. Before he passed me completely though, he leaned close and whispered in my ear.
“It's about time you put a ring on that young lady's finger and a baby in her belly anyway,” he said and gave me a wink.
Danielle. He meant Danielle. Fuck me. He didn't know.
Dad and Terrance left the office, leaving the three of us alone. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, still not able to absorb everything that had just been said. Still not able to absorb the inevitability of my dad's impending death.
“Mom, he can't be serious.”
“Oh, but he is, Malcolm,” she said. “He's wanted grandchildren forever, but we figured he had plenty of time. Shows what we know. This diagnosis obviously changes everything.”
Granted, I'd always wanted children of my own. Someday. I'd assumed that one day, Danielle and I would get married and have a bunch of kids. That dream had come crashing down in a flaming heap around me though. There was no way I would ever produce a child with her after what she'd done. Not even if she begged me to take her back. Never again.
“Did you read the rest of the contract?” Adam said. “If we don't give the old man what he wants, we forfeit our right to any inheritance. And if one of us succeeds, the winner gets it all. The whole shebang.”
“But if you both succeed,” mom countered, glaring at Adam with open hostility, “you split everything fifty-fifty, with Malcolm getting ownership of Crane Enterprises, and Adam enough shares to be a controlling member.”
That was it. I slammed my fists down on the desk, anger and outrage coursing through me.
“You mean, I have to get a girl knocked up to take control of the company I've been working for my entire life?” I asked.
“Hush, we'll talk later,” mom said.
I opened my mouth to argue, but she stepped around the desk and took my hands in hers. She met my eyes and I knew she was trying to tell me something. Hell, she didn't even have to say the words, I knew what she was telling me.
I needed to do this. I needed to be the head of the company. It couldn't go into Adam's scheming little hands, not if we wanted my father's legacy to live on. If the company went to Adam, he'd destroy it. Piece by piece, he'd run the company my father built with his own two hands into the ground.
“There are other ways to have a child, one that doesn't involve love and marriage, Malcolm.”
Her voice was low and careful, her gaze steady on mine. Adam wasn't paying attention to us. He was reading the will, no doubt going through a mental list of names of women he could knock up. My mom cut a quick glance at him and then turned back to me, careful to keep her voice low.
“The woman does not need to be part of the family, Malcolm,” she said. “So, you can – ”
“Knock some girl up you meet in the bar,” Adam said, leaning against Dad's desk casually. “Easy peasy if you ask me. I should have an ankle biter running around for the old man in no time.”
I cringed, and my mom scowled, a look of pure hatred on her face when she looked at Adam. But, I had to give her credit – she stayed quiet. She didn't counter Adam's obnoxiousness in the least and bit back the scathing replies I knew were on the tip of her tongue.
Instead of lashing out at him, she continued speaking to me, “Surrogacy is also an option. Your father just wants grandchildren to carry on his name and legacy,” she said. “We can look into agencies for you.”
I nodded, but my insides were churning, and I felt like they were eating me alive. I was going to be a father, sooner than I'd ever imagined. Sooner than I wanted. By surrogacy or some other method, I was going to have a baby.
There was no way I could let my legacy, my company – everything I worked my ass off for all these years – to fall into the hands of another. Especially somebody so reckless and irresponsible as my brother; somebody who didn't know the company the way I did. Somebody who didn't care about it the way I did.