Page 12 of Glass & Groundwork
“Yes, Mother. I’m stillon about that. Glassblowing is what I’m meant to be doing, it just took me a while to find it. I’m going to have a studio and it’s going to be fantastic. You’ll see.”
My father’s eyes narrowed for a moment before looking around at the space like we might be overheard. One thing about this elite bank, though, was that privacy was valued above all else. Well… privacyandmoney. “I think we should take this conversation somewhere else. Let’s meet at theOceanfront.”
The Oceanfront was one of their favorite seafood restaurants. True to its name, it was at the beach with big windows that overlooked the ocean. It was also about twenty minutes away from the bank, which wasn’t far in regards to Orange County, but it felt like it was the furthest I could be from the task I set out to accomplish.
Leaving felt final. I had this gut feeling if we walked out the front door, we wouldn’t be coming back. There would be no paperwork to sign or money to transfer. “Why can’t we talk here? It shouldn’t take too long if you hear me out.”
The look my dad shot me was one I knew he’d mastered in his years of business. It said, “Don’t you dare defy me.” I’d seen very successful business people cower to that look, as I had many times. I felt my neck disappear into my shoulders before the command came. “Oceanfront. Our regular table. Don’t drag your feet in getting there.”
He didn’t bother to wait for a response, nor did I have one, as he and my mother turned and walked out the door.
I looked back, longingly, toward Mrs. Lewis’s office, cursing her, and the building, and the entire county. Not Bert, though, who offered me a sympathetic smile when he opened the door for me. “I hope we’ll see you again soon, Mr. Maldonado.”
“Thank you, Bert.”
The shutting of the door behind me felt like the shutting of the door to my future. I felt heavy and defeated, dreading the early lunch with my parents, but there was no way out of it at this point. My only hope left was to plead my case and hope they had some sort of understanding. The thought of begging my parents made my stomach sour, but I would do it. I would debase myself and do whatever I had to if it gave me a chance.
The drive to the restaurant felt like I was sitting in the pit watching the pendulum draw closer and closer with each swipe. Would I be able to escape or would I end up gutted?
When I got to the beach, I avoided the usual paid parking lot I preferred and went straight to the valet parking, knowing each minute my parents waited would only make things worse for me. The host at the podium near the restaurant’s entrance wore a black suit and tie, because it wasthatkind of a place. They must have known to be expecting me, as they pointed me to the booth on the far right side with their head bowed. My parents were the only people occupying that side of the restaurant, which I was sure was at their request.
I sucked in a deep breath and forced my feet to move. With each step closer, my tie felt like it tightened around my throat, threatening to choke me, and my hands itched to tug at it. Instead, I balled them into fists at my side to keep them still.
A server reached the table right before I did, placing plates in front of my parents and one across the table for me. When she left, my mother motioned for me to sit. “I took the liberty of ordering for you, so we wouldn’t have to be interrupted.”
I tried to keep my face schooled as I sat in front of the scallops. I despised scallops, which, either my mother had done intentionally, or she wasthatoblivious to my likes and dislikes. I wasn’t sure which was worse. Intentional or apathetic.
I picked up my fork and pushed one of the scallops around my plate, my stomach souring even further. I forced myself to reply with as little bite in my tone as I could manage. “Thanks, Mother.”
We sat in silence for a long moment as my parents each took a bite of their food and savored it, moving in slow motion. It was torture. I might as well be in a holding cell at the police department for their expertise in breaking someone down.
At long last, my mother spoke, and maybe I shouldn’t have been so eager for her to start the conversation. “Tell us, Jasper… what brought you to the bank this morning?”
My mouth went dry again and I chugged a long drink of water. Dabbing my mouth with a napkin, giving myself a moment of pause, I reached deep down and tried to keep my voice steady. “I need an advance on my annual.”
My mother tutted and my father set his fork down. He stared at me with that no-nonsense expression of his. “If this is about money, the solution is simple. Take your seat in the company, and you’ll have everything you could need.”
It wasn’t simple. Working with him, with the family business, meant a slow, torturous death. A death of a thousand papercuts. I’d spent enough time in the office to know that it would kill my soul to go corporate. “I’m sorry, Father, but I can’t do that. I have a business of my own, it’s just not fully up yet. If I were to work for you, I wouldn’t have any time to pursue my own path. As I said, the place I found is perfect. Well, it will be once the construction is complete.”
“Construction?” My father asked.
“Yes. Building a hot shop is a complex task.”
“And what do you hope to do with this…hot shop?” My mother asked before taking the tiniest bite of a scallop.
“By the time it’s complete, it will be a fully professional studio and will help me achieve far more than I’d ever be able to in a rented space. It will be a dream shop that will allow me to create and sell works of art.”
That accusing brow of hers arched once more, but my father spoke before she could. “The construction? This is what you need the money for?”
“Yes. We have a contract, and they’ve already been working for about a month. The deposit I paid will run out soon, though, so I will need the remainder of the funds in order to continue the work.”
My father sat up straighter and cleared his throat. A move I knew meant I needed to brace myself. His tone was as firm and condescending as I feared it would be. “You’re saying that you signed a contract without having the money available to pay in full up front?”
It wasn’t like I was the first person to pay for something along the way. In his world, it was one of the greatest crimes you could commit. “I paid thedepositup front as was agreed upon. I’ve been saving for this, but I didn’t expect to find the facility I’m using. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“And it couldn’t have waited until January when you would receive your annual?” His tone made me want to crawl under the table, but I stayed still and forced myself to sit up straighter.
“No. It couldn’t have. In fact, my annual wouldn’t have been quite enough to cover the rest of the costs as well as covering my expenses until I start making my own income.”
