by Nella Tyler
I felt my jaw tighten, both with aggravation and regret.
Damn… I thought as I fell into step behind him, I should’ve tried to talk to him. Now, I’ve lost my chance.
Mazie
I pulled up to my parents’ house, which was now devoid of all the cars and commotion that was going on the last time I was here.
I grinned as childhood memories flashed back to me, making me feel pleased with the life I’d led thus far.
While Dexter wasn’t wrong about me taking the fall for his escapades, so that he wouldn’t be considered a failure in his father’s eyes, and hearing his appreciation for me going my own way was nice.
However, looking at my family home now and remembering all the good times that were and continued to be shared within it, I couldn’t help but think that he was a little jaded. There was a good chance that his admiration for what I had done was slightly misguided. After all, he was basing his praise off his experience with his father; not mine.
Granted, I was certain that if I had shown any excellence at all in my father’s business, as Laura had, my father would’ve been thrilled to take me under his wing.
Fortunately for me, I didn’t, and instead of forcing me on that path, my father understood.
Did that leave me feeling as though my father was closer to my best friend than he was to me at times? Yes, but knowing how it all worked out, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I was never the corporate suit that my father, Mr. Myers, and now Laura, were.
I would’ve been eaten alive in the corporate world. So, while my father deserved some credit for not trying to force me into a mold I definitely didn’t fit into, I was lucky in that it was blatant from the start that my talents lay elsewhere.
I was pleased that my father understood that though because I knew that if the roles were reversed, Dexter’s father would’ve never understood. At times, even growing up, it seemed that Mr. Myers had a child for the sole purpose of producing an heir to his fortune and legacy.
What Dexter wanted, while always being taken into consideration by his mother, was never valued by his father and I always thought that was sad.
Especially since, beyond the corporate side of Dexter, there was much more depth than his father ever cared to see.
Yet, again, he could have been playing to what he thought I wanted to see in him but when we were children, there wouldn’t have been a point. He never, ever indicated he liked me in any romantic fashion, and I never demanded anything from him for our friendship.
However, when I realized I had sat in the driveway for far too long and knew that my parents would soon be coming out to make sure everything was alright, I escaped my reminisce and got out of the car.
I walked up to the door and walked inside, as though I still lived there, and was welcomed by my mother, beaming brightly and opening her arms for a hug.
“Hi, Mazie!” my mother exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my neck tightly as though we hadn’t seen one another in years.
The warm reception was normal for her, however.
“Hi, Mom,” I replied as we pulled away.
“Your father said he saw you at the party last night, but I couldn’t find you,” she grinned and narrowed her eyes suggestively, “Where did you sneak off to, young lady?”
I felt my cheeks get red as I burst out laughing.
“Oh God, Mom. Eww…no. I left early but certainly not with anyone there,” I made a face that my mother seemed to agree with me on. “Fair enough.”
“There you are! Finally, we are able to have a conversation in a normal setting,” my father exclaimed as he walked in from the kitchen, wearing comfortable clothes.
“Hi, Dad!” I called as he embraced me, “How are you guys doing?” I asked between the two of them.
“Honestly, I’m happy that party is over with,” my father chimed in, shaking his head. “It used to be fun, but this year, it seemed to be nothing more than work, that I feel I am finally able to say with certainty, I am too old for.”
My father laughed, but I could see the weariness in his eyes. That had happened a lot lately.
The past few times I had seen him, his calm, confident, jovial nature was overshadowed by something that was new. Whether it was his age or simply being tired of the rat race he had committed himself to, I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t like it.
Although, like I always did, I ignored it, wanting to enjoy the time I had with my father instead of fretting over things I likely had no control over.
If I did bring it up, he would likely deny it anyway, so the pursuit was pointless.
So, instead, I grinned and pretended not to notice. I had a feeling that was going to be the easiest way to distance my mind from my concern.
“So, how is school?” my mother asked as we all sat down in the living room.
I grinned at the fact that she was asking me the same question she had, on nearly a daily basis, ever since I started kindergarten.
“School is good,” I offered, biting my tongue before I said anything about taking the kids to see Santa. While I knew that there were plenty of ways this conversation could go without me mentioning Dexter, since he was still in the forefront of my mind, I figured it was best not to tempt the conversation.
After all, Dexter would never forgive me if I slipped and my parents have a way of getting me to tell them things, even now that I would rather not say.
“The kids, as well as the majority of the teachers were so excited to start winter break.”
“I can imagine,” my mother insisted, teasing, “Much to the dismay of the children’s parents, I’m sure.”
“Oh, come on, Mom, I wasn’t that bad,” I retorted.
“No. You weren’t, but that still didn’t stop me from wanting you to go back to school, simply so that I could keep the house clean for more than five minutes.”
I laughed as my father returned to the kitchen after sniffing the air, as though remembering he was cooking something.
“Dammit,” my father grumbled, swiftly running back to the kitchen.
My mother giggled and raised her eyes toward me.
“Your father has taken up cooking to destress. See how well it's working?”
“Do you need any help, Dad?” I called, trying to suppress a chuckle.
“Not from either of you!” he responded in a playful huff, coming back to the dividing wall between the kitchen and where we sat, “What your mother neglected to tell you is that she has been getting amazing meals as a result of this new hobby.”
“Yes, and you are talented, my darling, but you have to admit, it isn’t helping your blood pressure any.”
“To hell with my blood pressure!” he retorted, “I believe I’ve found a hidden talent.”
My mother burst out laughing, and I teasingly rolled my eyes.
My father was always trying new things. They usually didn’t last all that long and general ended up taking up space in the garage, but my mother dealt with it.
She loved my father, after all, and was willing to do what was necessary to ensure his sanity, especially since the job seemed to be getting to him far more than it had in his earlier years.
My father shook his head and finished up the lunch, redirecting us to the enclosed patio.
It was comfortable and afforded a beautiful view of the back yard.
My mother’s hobby had always been both the inside and outside of their home, and there was never a time I could remember where the house and the landscaping weren't pristine.
Although the patio was outside and cooler than the rest of the house, the heater and the thick panes of glass allowed the warmth to stay inside.
My father brought out three renditions of what I assumed was a Ruben, and the three of us started to eat.
“So, do you have any interesting students this year?” my father asked as we worked on our lunch.
“Yes. There is one extremely talented artist, and another who I am sure is going to be some kind of mathemat
ician, but each of the students has their own talents,” I explained trying to think of some specific stories, but only able to come up with things that reminded me of Dexter.
So, again, I refrained from trying to delve too deep into the conversation.
“That’s what’s so wonderful about the grade you teach,” my mother explained. “You have the unique opportunity to teach to each of your student’s strengths. You aren’t confined to one subject.”
“Yes, but that can also be challenging,” my father added, “Having to modify your teaching style to match each different subject in a manner the kids will understand. I give you credit.”
“Well, I enjoy it,” I offered easily, grinning.
“We know, and we’re proud of you, for everything you’ve accomplished. You did it all on your own, and that is admirable,” my father insisted in a manner that made me wonder if there was a but coming.
While my family has always been supportive, it was strange for them to be so complimentary without there being a reason for it.
However, as we finished lunch and my mother cleaned up, disappearing back into the house, nothing more came of their praise, which led me to believe that perhaps they were simply being nice.
When my mother was busy in the kitchen, however, my father looked at me with a strange expression, and when he spoke, his voice was calm but intrigued.
“So, I see that you and Dexter were able to hit it off, huh? You two always got along so well,” he grinned, and I felt my stomach drop, fearing that, somehow, he had realized that we had seen one another more than simply meeting up at the party the other night.
“Yeah, we have. He hasn’t changed a bit,” I grinned, trying to keep the conversation light, even though I felt my heart start to race nervously.
“That boy needs some better influences in his life. It seems like all he has is his father and all he does is knock him down,” my dad admitted.
“Well, you know him better than I do now. The other night was the first time I’d seen him in nearly two years,” I replied, happy that I at least was able to admit to that, if not the date we had the night before. “What do you think of him?”
“What do you mean?” my father inquired.
“You know, as a person? I’m sure he’s changed since we were kids and a lot can and probably has happened in two years.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ve always liked Dexter. He’s always been a good kid…a smart kid too. He’s a hard worker and would give his blood for the company, if it was necessary. He’s extremely dedicated, though some days I can’t imagine why, since his father is such an ass to him. I mean, he’s an ass to everyone but, whether it’s afraid of being succeeded or for some other reason that I can’t quite grasp, he is always far meaner to Dexter than to anyone else. Unfortunately for that boy, the more he tries to please his father, the more I fear he is going to become his father.”
My dad paused and shook his head.
“Yeah, I kind of expected Mr. Myers to be gone by now. He seemed eager enough to retire when we were only kids.”
“So did I,” my father admitted before grumbling and shaking his head again, “But, then his wife died a few years ago, and Mr. Myers threw himself into his work. The second she passed, I think any intention he had of retiring died with her. I think Dexter is headed on that path now too.”
“I hope not. He never was like his father,” I offered, wondering if there was a possibility that I could help him become the person he truly wanted to be instead of becoming like his father.
However, I didn’t dare let on that was what I was thinking.
“Me too. Especially because, in a lot of ways, I think that his father’s coldness and apathy does a disservice to the company. I think that if Dexter were to truly have some say, he could revolutionize a lot of things that his father wouldn’t think about pursuing.”
“Why don’t you say something to him?”
“Because, unfortunately, after all these years, I’ve learned basically what I can try to tell my partner and what I can’t. The majority of what I feel should be said, if I haven’t said it, it is because I am sure he won’t listen. One of the most pressing things is more personal but probably more important than anything. I don’t think he should be so demanding of Dexter. His father is always threatening his job and acting as though Dexter doesn’t work hard but he does,” pausing for a moment, my father sighed, “I just hope that Mr. Myers realizes what he is doing before it’s too late.”
“Me too,” I offered genuinely, though my main concern was helping Dexter to come into his own instead of staying in the shadow of his father and eventually becoming him.
Dexter
It was a long, arduous day, but I didn’t quite realize how early I had gone to bed or how soundly I had slept until I woke up the next morning.
Monday was never as welcomed as the day after the anniversary of my mother’s death, but thankfully that was not what was readily on my mind.
Although I still lamented how I had acted with my father and was angered by my failure to find the right words to open the appropriate dialogue, that was not the heaviest lament on my mind.
Instead, I found that what was weighing heaviest on my mind was the idea that I was running out of time to see Mazie before my plane left on Thursday.
It was strange because I knew I wasn’t going to be gone forever, but I still needed to see her before I left.
Relax, I told myself, shaking my head at the urgency I felt. You’re not a chick, Dex; she’s just a girl.
With that in mind, I sat up, slunk out of bed and into the kitchen to make breakfast. I was still tired, but I figured that was mostly because of the strange, depressing events that had taken place the day before.
When I made it to the kitchen, I threw together some breakfast before going to get ready for work.
The thought of the presentation also weighed heavily on my mind, and I wanted to make sure I got it right. This was a big deal, not only for me and for my career, but also for the company.
However, I knew I was ready. I had spoken to Mr. Wilson plenty of times before and was fairly certain that I knew how to get this to work. I knew what he wanted, and I was sure this marketing firm could get it for him.
With my plan, I was sure his company was going to expand far beyond even his wildest expectations. Yet, it wasn’t overly complicated, so he would be able to easily understand and follow the progression of the plan.
It was genius, if I did say so myself, and I was ready to deliver it in the best possible manner.
However, when I walked into the office that day, I didn’t even stop to flirt with the secretary. My mind was too jumbled with all the different issues going on inside my mind.
After all, despite the idea, which I thought was great, there was still the chance that I could blow it, and the deal would go up in flames.
I doubted that would happen because I had worked harder on this deal than I had on anything I had ever done and I knew I was good at what my job, despite what my father said. I knew what to do to make it happen, and I was eager to close the deal.
Yet, I knew that if I didn’t straighten out my head and get Mazie off my mind, the chances of me screwing up this deal were exponentially larger.
Simple…just ask her out to dinner. I thought as I opened the door to my office.
As I sat down at my desk, leaving the door open, I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen, wondering if I should text Mazie.
Although, before I could formulate a proper message in my mind, there was a knock at the door. I looked up to see Brock, one of the better employees standing in my doorway.
“Hey, Brock! Come in,” I offered, waving him toward me.
Brock was a kiss-ass, and I had my suspicions about him being a little too into office politics, never missing an opportunity to run a coworker through with what might be idle chatter. He was a pain in the ass and had his crooked nose in everything, but he was intelligent and
knew how to get shit done, so I put up with him.
“Hi, Dex. Did I catch you in the middle of something?” he asked, eyeing my phone, still clasped in my hand.
“Me? No! You’re good. How can I help you?” I replied, purposefully flipping my phone over, face-down on the desk so that he couldn’t read anything on my screen.
“I won’t take up a lot of your time; I just wanted to tell you what a great job I think you did on the presentation.”
At first, I wondered if he was trying to sabotage me for some reason, but since he wanted the company to do well so that he could rise up the ranks, it didn’t make sense that he would want this to fail.
It wasn’t like he caught me getting head under my desk or anything that usually wet his rat-whistle.
So, after considering this momentarily, I decided it was likely a genuine compliment.
“Thanks,” I replied, “Did you think that the timetable was too slow…too hurried?”
“No. I thought it made sense. I’ve been considering that company myself, and from what I can tell, that plan progresses at the right pace for a company that large and that public.”
“Great,” I replied, hoping to God he wasn’t trying to size up my seat.
He was a good employee, sure, but if he even thought about trying to sabotage my job, the little weasel would be out of the street so fast his head would spin.
“Honestly, Dexter, I was really impressed.”
“Thanks, Brock. Is there anything else?”
“Oh…no. That’s all I had to say,” he offered as he got the hint and stood up.
“Well, thanks. I hope I get the deal. It would be good for everyone.”
“I understand that, Sir, and I appreciate you taking the time,” he offered as he walked out, waving to me before disappearing down the hall.
I rolled my eyes when I was sure he had left, but despite who it was coming from and the fact that I could see the brown on his nose from a mile away, the reassurance was nice.
At least it gave me the idea that I hadn’t completely lost my mind.
