Relentless Hope (Resilient Hearts)

by Cassidy, Ashley

  It feels like we stay frozen in space drowned in each other’s eyes forever before either one of us breaks away. After what feels like an eternity but in reality is only a couple of minutes, he finally looks away shaking his head as if trying to shake the feeling away.

  After a few seconds, he seems to get his bearings. A slow sexy smile turns up the corner of his mouth and he turns his eyes back on me, as he starts slowly pivoting towards me. Butterflies soar in my stomach as I see him approaching me, but before either one of us has a chance to say anything, an older guy comes up behind him, patting him on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Aiden. What are you doing here?”

  He reluctantly turns toward the man. “How you doing, Jeff? Grandpa wanted me to come by and say hello. See how things are going.”

  “I figured that’s why you’re here,” the other guy says with a smirk. “Well, come with me then. I’ll take you around.” Jeff turns around and starts walking away expecting Aiden to follow, but Aiden remains rooted to the spot as if he is unsure which way to go. After a minute, he looks back towards me, winks and then follows Jeff into a hallway and out of my line of sight.

  I sit there dumbfounded, trying to make sense of what just happened. Who is this guy and how could he just walk away without saying a word after the intense experience we just shared? Before I have a chance to analyze this encounter further, I see a sharply dressed woman approaching my chair.

  “Aleah?”

  “Yes, that’s me,” I say as I rise from the chair.

  She extends her hand to shake mine. “I’m Lynn Watson. I’m the HR Manager at Pierson Investments. Nice to meet you.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, as I shake her hand, trying to sound confident and professional.

  She walks me to a small conference room with a stack of papers on the desk, where I spend the next two hours filling out forms and reviewing employee and training manuals. Throughout the time, even though I try my hardest to focus on the task at hand, my mind keeps going back to the intense electrifying encounter I just experienced in the lobby. I can’t shake the feeling that meeting this man in the first few minutes of my first day of work at Pierson Investments has a significance, that the encounter was more than a mere coincidence.

  The last few weeks have flown by quickly. When I first started, work was insanely stressful and downright scary as I realized how much I had to learn to become a good secretary. Lynn had me sit with one of their most experienced secretaries for just one week to train me on the basics, and after that, I was on my own.

  To make up for my complete lack of experience and my slow pace, I put in a lot more hours at work. I went in about half an hour earlier than everybody else and left an hour or two later than most.

  By the third week, I started to feet relatively comfortable at doing most everyday tasks and became more relaxed. That meant I didn’t have to spend as many hours at work. Now in my fourth week of work, I have more free time on my hands in the evenings, and as a result more opportunity for loneliness to creep in. The isolation is really starting to get to me.

  The only person I have interacted with outside of work in the past month has been Nick. He calls me every few days to see if I need anything, and he has taken me shopping a few times when I needed to buy something heavy that I couldn’t carry on foot.

  He was also a tremendous help to me last weekend when I bought a car. I didn’t know the first thing about cars and trying to find a reliable cheap used car on my own would have been impossible without his help. He helped me navigate online ads, called a few people and came with me to go test drive the car. I feel extremely grateful for his help and the time he spent with me, but outside of the few occasions I’ve needed his help, we don’t really interact.

  I have also not been able to form any friendships at work. The rumor mill at Pierson Investments is going strong, and I think the news of how I got the job without coming in for an interview and how I clearly didn’t have any experience when I started has spread to most employees.

  Many people suspect that I am somehow connected to the Pierson family and as a result are cautious in what they say and how they act around me. Most everyone is polite and friendly, but as soon as I start to get close to anyone, they politely shut me down.

  With no friends at work or anywhere else, I spend all my nights and weekends at home alone. I’m also still haunted by the memories of what happened that dreaded Thursday and what my brothers and my dad did to me after. I’m always watching my back when I’m outside, and avoid going to any places where I could possibly run into any old friends or family. That has meant staying in rather than leaving the apartment, and being completely and utterly alone with the thoughts in my head. For a girl who grew up in a large family, such as mine, and was always surrounded by relatives and multitudes of friends, handling the solitude is not easy.

  I long for a conversation with a friend, for companionship, or even a simple social interaction. As I head to the couch to sit down and get myself mentally ready for another lonely night, an idea crosses my mind. I could make a visit to David. The few times I’ve talked to him since the last time we met, he sounded like he could use some company. At the very least, I should go and thank him for everything he has done for me.

  Before I have a chance to overanalyze the idea and make myself nervous, I call Nick to see if he can arrange it. He gets very excited when I tell him I am thinking of visiting David, telling me that David has had very few visitors in the last couple of months and he’s dying for some social interaction. Realizing that David and I are both in need of some company solidifies my decision. I set a date and time for my visit, and hang up the phone.

  The housekeeper leads me to David’s study when I get there. As I walk in, I notice David in his recliner, his eyes glued to a book. I take a minute before making my presence known to study him. He’s looking older, his frailty evident even from a distance. I am shocked by how much he seems to have aged in just a month. I wonder what could be causing such rapid aging.

  After saying hello, I sit in a chair across from him and we instantly fall into a comfortable conversation. He asks me questions about work, wanting to know everything that goes on there. As we chat about work, he gives me pointers on how to perform certain tasks more efficiently and how to keep my supervisors happy. We also talk about sports, our favorite TV shows and recent movies. He‘s a wonderful conversationalist and has a great sense of humor.

  After what feels like just a few minutes, I glance at my watch and notice two hours have passed since I got here. I can’t believe time flew by so fast. I reach over to grab my purse. Noticing my intent to leave, David’s features turn somber.

  “Thank you for coming to visit me and listening to my stories. Sitting next to an old man such as me for this long cannot possibly be enjoyable for a vibrant young woman such as yourself, so I really appreciate you doing this. No one ever really comes to visit me anymore. It tends to get…lonely sometimes, so this…this was really nice,” he says, his voice so low on the last words, it sounds almost like a whisper.

  I tilt my chin up to look into his eyes, and the vulnerability I see there pulls at my heartstrings. I can’t believe that out of all the people in his large circle of former business associates and employees, his friends, or even his family, not one person comes to visit him.

  As I gaze into his somber pale eyes, I realize how true it is that money cannot buy you love. This billionaire old man has all the money in the world, but what he aches for, what he really needs at his old age is love and attention from his loved ones, and his money is not getting him any of that. My heart aches for him, deciding on its own that it can’t let him continue to feel this lonely.

  I form a small smile on my lips. “I really enjoyed your company too. I don’t really have any friends and it gets lonely for me too. I would love to come visit you every few days, if that’s okay with you.”

  His face lights up at these words, his broad smile warming my he
art.

  “I would love that,” he says, sounding excited.

  “Great. I’ll try to set a schedule to come visit you every two to three days then.”

  My visits to David have fallen into a comfortable schedule. I leave work early on Mondays and Thursdays to avoid the ungodly rush hour traffic and get to his house early in the evening. When I arrive, we normally have dinner together during which we chat about anything and everything.

  Despite his old age and his medical condition, David is very much on top of all the latest happenings in the world. He reads the financial news every day, and follows politics religiously, but also watches Entertainment Tonight and is even aware of the latest viral videos. Conversations with him are easy, informative, and fun. He talks to me about the financial markets and how they work, but also makes references to the latest celebrity news and gives me advice on how to approach things at work. After dinner, we usually play a game of chess or backgammon.

  When I have time, I also try to visit him on Saturdays. On those days, we typically take a walk to the park, watch a movie together, or play cards.

  My relationship with him may seem strange or unorthodox to most people, as from the outside David and I could not be any more different. He is a well-known billionaire founder of a successful investment company who lives in a mansion in one of the most expensive parts of the city, and I am a Pakistani-American girl from a lower middle class family from the other side of town. He is an old man struggling with health issues and at the end of his life, while I am a young twenty-year-old woman who is just starting to figure out life on her own. On the surface, we have nothing in common, but when you look a little deeper, our stories have very similar characteristics. Both of us have had our lives turned upside down in the past few months and the loss has left us both desperate for companionship.

  In my visits to David, I have learned that he was working in his normal capacity as the CEO of Pierson Investments up until about ten months ago, when was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. He told me that the resultant initial shock and the endless subsequent hours he had to spend at the hospital left him very little energy for managing the day to day business of the company. As a result, he voluntarily retired from his position, in the hopes that they would still keep him appraised of the day to day operations, and would get his input on major decisions.

  Instead, soon after he left, the board voted to oust him from his position as chairman of the board. That decision seems to have taken a huge toll on David. Nick told me David felt betrayed and was hell bent on getting his position back, until he found out about his prognosis, learning that he only had a few months to live. As if losing his position at the company and his deteriorating health was not enough of a blow to him, David soon realized that by losing his job and his social status, he also lost most of his so-called friends.

  I have heard from multiple people that David developed more enemies during his years than friends. He used to be a ruthless but hugely successful businessman. People flocked to his side out of fear of reprisal or because they wanted something from him. As soon as he lost the ability to offer either, he also lost most of his social circle. The sudden loss of his position and his social status at the same time as finding out about a terminal illness has clearly made him a changed man. Instead of the social circles he used to frequent, he now yearns for genuine friendship, for someone who cares about him as a person and not because of his success and his wealth. And I really do.

  David literally saved my life and I will be forever grateful to him for that, but beyond my gratitude, I like to be around him because he’s a good listener, fun to be around, and simply a good friend. I know our time with each other will be short but I resolve to be around and be whatever he needs me to be until the very end.

  As I sit across from David tonight, I sense his uneasiness. Something is bothering him. He seems distracted, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

  “Is something wrong? You seem distracted,” I finally ask.

  He takes a deep breath, nodding his head slowly. “My younger son, Chris called today. We actually had a pretty good conversation until I asked him when he plans to do something useful with his life, and it went quickly downhill from there. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut around my kids, but I just can’t help it. Every single one of them has a screwed up life, and I used to not care, but now that I know I don’t have much time left, I simply can’t watch them waste their lives the way they are without saying anything,” he breathes, his voice laden with pain.

  “I have a lot of regrets in my life, but my biggest regret is the way I treated my kids. I always put my work first. Didn’t pay much attention to them when I needed to. I gave them plenty of money and convinced myself that I was being a good father by providing for them, but I know now that I was just being selfish, and I see how it’s affected every one of them. My oldest son, Tom, is very much like me, ambitious, driven and hungry for money. He started working for me at the company right out of college and he was good at what he did. He was really good actually, but he wanted to take charge and change things around. I let him do some of that, but the more leeway I gave him, the bolder he got. He slowly started to undermine my authority and was telling people to do things that were direct opposites of what I had told them. We got into a really big fight. At the end, I fired him. He promised I would regret the decision. That he would pave his own way up and would become a big competitor of ours. He lives in New York now, managing a big fund. He’s done well for himself, but was never able to replicate my success, and he’s always been resentful because of that… We never recovered from that argument.”

  Now I understand why I never see his oldest son, but this still doesn’t explain why neither of his other kids ever shows up.

  “What about your younger son? Does he ever visit?”

  “No, I don’t have a good relationship with him either, but for completely different reasons. He’s the opposite of Tom in every possible way. Chris has no ambition and no desire to do anything with his life other than to have fun. He spends his days lounging around doing nothing and his nights man-whoring his way through the town. I think he saw what work did to my life and Tom’s and decided to take the exact opposite route…and my daughter, Karen…she’s a completely different shade of messed up. Karen is a materialistic narcissist who doesn’t care about anything but her looks, the latest fashions and her Hollywood friends. Needless to say, I don’t have a good relationship with her either. She blames me for the fall of her first marriage, even though her bastard ex-husband is the one who cheated on her. She thinks because the guy worked for me, I had something to do with the way he treated her.”

  This makes sense. I understand now why he speaks of his family with such longing, repeatedly saying that he failed them. It is such a shame that he waited this long to connect with his children, to show them he cares more about them than his company and his billions. I get that his strain relationship with his kids is mostly his fault, but as I look into his remorseful blue eyes and his pale face, I feel nothing but compassion for him.

  “I’m really, really sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine how tough it must be to be in your shoes, not having a good relationship with any of your children. Have you tried to talk them? Try to reconnect with them?”

  “I tried to talk to them after I was diagnosed, but it didn’t go very well,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “They think I’m only reaching out now, because I’m dying, which is true in a way, and having that knowledge is not conducive to forming any real relationship. Plus, as much as I hate to accept it, I think it’s too late to try to change my kids. They’re too set in their ways to change. The only real chance I have is with my grandkids.”

  He gets a faraway look in his eyes at the mention of his grandchildren, as if remembering better days.

  “My oldest grandson is my greatest hope. He’s an extraordinarily bright kid. He got accepted to Harvard business school without even trying that
hard and finished a couple of years ago. He’s brilliant and has a great business mind much the same as me and Tom, but he also has something different in him that neither one of us had. It’s a spark, a light I see in him that I never had. I can tell he cares about more than just money. He has great potential, but he is letting it go to waste. As far as I can tell, he’s not doing anything with his life either, and…I blame myself for that. That kid went through a rough time in his childhood. I knew what was happening and I knew how much he looked up to me and cared for me. I told him I would help, but I never really stepped up the way I should have. That’s the biggest regret I have in my life.” His voice catches on the last words, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  The look I see in his eyes is heartbreaking. I try to think of something quick to change the subject and lighten the mood.

  “Do you have any pictures of your grandkids?”

  His face lights up. “Of course. I have a ton of pictures in those albums. He jumps up from his chair excitedly, a little too quickly, and loses his footing. Before I know what is happening, I see him jerking forward towards the coffee table. I jump up and catch him right before he hits the table. We struggle for a minute to find our balance and he holds on tight to me. I hold his hand and wrap my arms around his shoulder to steady him, and that is when I hear a man’s voice.

  “Well. Well. Look what we have here old man. I thought you’re sick and bedridden. Didn’t think I would be walking in on you having a hot little number like her wrapped around you. Guess some things never change.”

  David’s eyebrows furrow at the accusatory tone, but the frown is quickly replaced by a broad smile as he recognizes the voice.