My phone exploded with messages over the next week. Victoria called six times before I finally answered.
“Daniel, we need to talk about what happened.”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“You humiliated Dad at his own birthday party.”
“I attended a party at my own property. Dad humiliated himself.”
“He didn’t know you owned the resort.”
“That’s not the issue, Victoria. The issue is he uninvited me because he was ashamed of me, because he thought I was a failure. That’s the part you should be upset about.”
Silence.
“Vicki, did you ever ask me what my company does? Did you ever Google Zenith Solutions? Did you ever wonder how I afforded my house or my car or anything else?”
“I thought you were doing okay. I didn’t know it was this big.”
“You didn’t know because you didn’t ask. None of you did. You just accepted Dad’s narrative that I was the disappointing son and never questioned it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? How many times have you called me in the past five years to talk about my life? Not to ask for tech help, not to mention me in passing, but to actually ask about my work, my goals, my achievements?”
She was quiet for a long time.
“I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change anything.”
“Are you going to stop coming to family events?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m figuring out what I want my relationship with this family to look like.”
“Daniel, we’re still family.”
“Family shows up for each other. Family asks questions. Family doesn’t let one person get uninvited from birthday parties because they’re considered embarrassing. You all failed that test.”
I hung up.
James was next. He sent a long email about how he had looked into Zenith Solutions, how impressive the growth metrics were, and how he would like to discuss potential investment opportunities.
I replied, Not interested, but thanks for finally looking.
My mother called every day. I let it go to voicemail. Her messages were all variations of the same theme.
Your father is hurting. We need to fix this. Family is important. Please call back.
On day eight, my father called. I almost didn’t answer, but curiosity won.
“Daniel.”
“Dad.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About respect.”
I waited.
“I was wrong about how I treated you. About what I said at the party. You were right. I didn’t try to understand what you built. I just assumed because it wasn’t law or medicine that it was somehow less important.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry. I’m genuinely sorry.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Can we… can we fix this?”
I looked out my office window at Lake Washington.