Page 69 of I Think Olive You

Dr. Pritchard tilts her head as she assesses me, and I’m reminded of Isabella’s fathomless gaze. It’s a look that says she sees so much more than just what’s presented on the surface.

“Isn’t it? Tell me then.”

And so, I launch into it as briefly as I can: the contract, the trip, the lies compounding and growing—snowballing until it swept away the life I want more than anything else.

“Why do you think you kept the secret from her? It sounds like there might be something else there, not just you avoiding getting caught.”

“At first it was me being stubborn, selfish, but then I didn’t want to lose her. And once I was caught up in it all I didn’t want to let them down.”

“Them?”

“Giuliana and her family.”

“Did you ever feel like you were letting your family in New York down?”

“Growing up or with the company and the grove? Because I know I’ve been failing them for years. Some of it willful, some of it was me chafing at their expectations.”

“You say you know. Did they ever tell you that? What makes you feel like that?”

How the hell did we get so off track? We’re just supposed to be talking about my fuck-up with Giuliana. I’m going through a breakup here and it’s tearing me apart. Clearly now’s not the time to bring up the man who ruined my life with his anticipations and demands. I almost want to interrupt her and tell her that, refuse to answer, but the truth is easier. I’m too tired to fight.

“My father expected me to take over the business. Had a whole clause written into his will to disown me if I didn’t make a success of myself.”

“Have you seen this clause? That sounds very extreme.”

“No… uh, my mentor Alan—his right-hand-man, told me about it while I was in Italy. I haven’t been to see him yet given my—mood. But from what he said either I take over the grove and prove I have what it takes to run the company, or I lose my inheritance.”

“So, you lost both the grove and your inheritance? And the connection you’d made with this family.”

“Yeah, hence why my mom made the appointment for me. Needless to say, I’ve been a little numb—very little pep in my step these days.”

“Were you close with your father?”

“No. He was busy with work and growing his empire.”

“Do you think you resent the business for taking him away from you?”

“Probably.”

“When you were a kid or now, in death?”

Fuck. I’ve never connected the two but that makes sense.

“Both?”

“Do you resent your father for not being there for you, not taking the time to get to know you and what you wanted?”

“Yeah. We’ve never been on the best terms, which is why I’m not surprised by the move he pulled. Keeping it a secret was a shitty thing to do, though.”

“Matt, I don’t want to agitate you when you clearly want nothing to do with your father’s business but I do suggest you look into that clause on the will. Take it to a lawyer, get a second opinion. Is there a reason you’re taking Alan’s word as law when you haven’t even laid eyes on it?”

“I mean, it sounded like something my dad would do. He’d been pestering me for years, why not try to force my hand?”

Her questions are a barrage, forcing me to think on things I’ve never even considered. Given how I’ve trudged through the last few days this conversation feels like a tennis match, balls volleyed back and forth. As soon as I answer she serves me another question I’d rather avoid. Picking at the chair I’m sitting on, I try to ground myself in the physical space. Her office. I’m in her office and I’ve got to focus on that.

“Matt, how could he have known when he was going to die? Without the heart attack he might have had another twenty years and died an old man, a grandfather even? Do you believe he thought you’d have nothing to show for yourself your whole life?”

The words sink into the abyss of my chest like stones clattering over themselves and tumbling to the bottom. I mull it over and consider what my father may have thought of me.

---