My Peace (Beautifully Broken 5)

Dad nods. “Yeah. There’s a list of terms outlined, complete with things that would be considered acceptable. They’re a good staff though. He just wants to make sure they’re taken care of, and have enough time to move on if they wish.”

I nod. My grandfather has always been good to his employees.

“I’m sorry to bring this up right now, son,” my father adds. “Truly. It was just William’s wishes that you were told immediately. The size of the estate alone is staggering. You’ll need to think about this.”

I don’t ask, and he waits, and then he sighs.

“It’s worth three billion dollars, Pax.”

“Holy cats,” Mila sucks in her breath. “Billion with a B?”

My father nods, and I’m not surprised. My grandfather was a wizard at business.

“Ok,” I say simply. “We’ll discuss it. Do I have a time-limit to adhere to?”

Dad nods. “Yeah. He’s given you thirty days to decide. If you decide to reject it, everything will go into a trust for Zuzu.”

“So Zuzu would get saddled with those same terms?” I ask wryly. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know.”

My dad stares out the window and after barren trees pass and rainy skies, he turns back to me. “Your grandfather was a good man.”

“I know.”

And he was. He was formal, and sometimes stern. He was dignified, but loving in his own way. Even now, he’s trying to look out for me in the best ways he knows how. In trying to dictate the terms, he was trying to give himself peace of mind that I will continue making good decisions, and continue being successful in life.

I love him too much to fault him for that.

When we reach my home, my father climbs out of the car first, and then helps me out. His eagle eyes don’t miss the fact that I’m moving slow, or that I flinch when the muscles in my back contract, and my knee gives a little with every step I take.

“Maybe you should go back and see your doctor?” he suggests as we head inside.

“Maybe,” I acquiesce, and both he and Mila do a double-take.

“It must be bad,” my wife decides. “I’ll make an appointment for you for tomorrow.”

I nod, and Zuzu runs into the room with Chelcie close on her heels.

“Daddy,” she shrieks, and Mila catches her before she plows into me.

“Remember, daddy is fragile,” Mila reminds her, and I roll my eyes.

“Again, I’ll show you fragile,” I remind her softly, for our ears only. Zu grabs my legs and holds on and my father pries her off, hefting her onto his back.

“Show grampy your room,” he tells her, galloping like a horse down the hall. Paul Tate has definitely mellowed since having a grandchild.

Mila and I stand alone in the foyer and her slender fingers find mine.

“Are you ok?” she asks softly. I think about that.

I think about how my grandfather had welcomed us into his life with open arms, and how he had insisted that I work in his family business… not because he needed someone, but because he wanted me to stay clean, and he wanted me to have something positive to focus on.

I think about the man he was, and how much he had affected me in the few years that I’d known him.

“Yeah,” I say finally. “I’m happy I had a chance to know him.”

Mila nods and she smiles, because she likes that answer.