Page 56 of Honeyed

After a quick check of everything else, we walk down the street to Hope Pizza. Neither of us is working tonight, but we’ve missed the place and our family, so it’s only natural we visit before going home to unpack. Or, more likely, fall into bed together, but no one else needs to hear about that.

“You’re back! Oh, hi, hi! We missed you!” Mom comes at me with an enormous bear hug, and I lean into her, letting her embrace warm me.

She must be manning the hostess stand tonight because otherwise, the place is empty before the dinner rush.

I’m nothing if not a mama’s girl, since we have to put up with all these men around us. She’s always been a source of comfort and a friend; my mom is the kind of mom my friends would go to for advice and say they wished she was their mom. I always concurred.

“We missed you, too. Although we didn’t want to leave paradise.” I smile at her, then back at Warren.

“The pictures you sent were beautiful, it looked amazing. You all rested and relaxed?” She still has her arms around me but reaches out to squeeze Warren’s hand.

“Yep, but ready to get back to work. Lily has a bit of a problem we’ll have to—”

“Oh good, you’re back. We need a whole marketing campaign done for the seventy-fifth anniversary of the pizzeria. I’m not sure what you have on your plate with that store, but we need all hands on deck. It’s going to be a huge night.” Dad completely interrupts our nice recap of our trip and my wading back into the water of my job and family.

Plus, he talks about Lily like I’m opening some seedy business that deals in illegal things. My blood begins to simmer because everything about what he just said is so condescending, and yet he doesn’t see the problem with any of his words.

I grind my molars together to try to keep my cool. “First of all, I’ve had our campaigns on social media scheduled for the event for a month, plus all the graphics for it are done. Local stations and newspapers are waiting on a press release closer, and Evan is sitting down with one of the local morning shows to do a full-length piece on the evolution of our family restaurant. I’ve been actively planning every square detail of the anniversary, but please, tell me I don’t know how to do my job.”

Mom admonishes him with some words spoken under her breath that I can’t hear, and Warren moves to my side. I feel him bristle with the tension in the air about how my father just spoke to me.

Dad rolls his eyes, but I can see it in his posture that I’ve taken his ego and bravado down a notch. “Well, good. I just know you’ve been distracted with that store, and this is our family’s legacy. Don’t need someone dropping the ball.”

As if I haven’t always been one of the backbones of this business since I joined it.

“I’m not some weak little girl, Dad. You don’t treat the boys like this. I can take on more than one project at a time and get it done in half the time they can.”

“No one is saying you can’t.” His brows furrow like he’s confused that I’d be challenging him.

“You are, right … you know what, forget it. I have other stuff to worry about.” I flick my wrist in the air as if to dismiss it.

I just had an amazing week in paradise with my husband, my store is almost done, and I’ve seen to my responsibilities here for months to come. He doesn’t get to burst my bubble with this pompous asshole mood. Not today, at least.

“What’s going on with the electrical stuff?” Mom tries to lighten the room by showing interest in Lily.

“We’re not sure, but the lights weren’t working when we just went to check on the progress,” Warren fills her in, and I know he’s trying to use his voice to downplay how serious it might be.

“Well, you’ll get it worked out. We have tons of contacts, I’m sure one could help.” Mom nods in my direction reassuringly.

I look to Dad because I’m still buzzing with anger toward him and don’t want to swallow it down.

“You could call George, get him to come out and fix the electrical issues with no problem.” I plant a hand on my hip, acting like a stubborn child.

“I only do business favors or rush referrals for those I believe in. For businesses I know were thought through, planned, and are making a conscious effort to build slowly, so they stick around in a town as special as ours.”

His response stings worse than almost any words I’ve ever heard in my life.

“Thomas!” Mom gasps.

She probably can’t believe he said that just as much as I can’t. Sure, I’ve always felt more challenged by my father than I think my brothers have been. Maybe it’s my perception, but he seems harder on me. I’ve thrived in a lot of ways because of it, but this adverseness to me branching off and starting my own business is way over the top. It’s coming from a hostile place, and I can’t believe my own father would leave me hanging like he seems to be doing.

“I love you, Dad, but you’re being an asshole right now.” The lump in my throat makes my words come out choked and emotional.

Warren pulls me to him, the warmth of his body giving me some semblance of comfort. I notice, though, that his other hand is in a fist by his side.

“If you don’t want to hear what I have to say, Thomas, you’ll walk back into the kitchen now.”

It’s rare that he’s ever said boo to my father, and a very selfish, very teenage part of me revels in the fact that Warren is siding with me over him.

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