Page 9 of Twin Babies For The Grump

Both numb, we spend the next hour talking about him, about what this means for us, about what comes next. Eventually, we both have to get off the line and go to work. I can take the day off, and I’m sure she can too, but that’s the last thing I want to do right now.

Being busy always works, right?

Still, the devastation creeps in on me all over again when I get to the office and the papers are already waiting for me. One of them is an insurance claim. I can’t bring myself to look at them right now.

Desperate for a distraction, I try to check my emails but there’s a hastily penned one from Robert, with a few references for funeral directors that can help me manage things long distance… And a reminder that some things will need to be handled in person.

I click out of the email and try to find something more work related to lose myself in.

Jimmy pops up sometime later, wishing to know how my night had been but as soon as I tell him about my father, he looks sincerely sad. He gives me his condolences and seeing my need to work, he leaves me at peace.

Grief does not vanish; it is present throughout the day. The news spread fast and soon every interaction includes words of comfort and the painful reminder of what has happened.

It hangs over me like a storm cloud. I can’t focus on anything. My mind keeps drifting back to my dad being gone just like that.

My father is gone.

And he’s never coming back.

I will never see him again. I will never hear his voice or hug him.

But it isn’t just the fact that my father’s dead that’s haunting me.

It’s the fact that I don’t know what to do.

All those feelings I was drowning by working every waking hour come flooding now. For the first time in a very long time, I have no fucking idea what I should do, what choice I should make.

Delia Winery is gorgeous and a huge estate, and a ton of work, and a busy business with tourists and wine tastings.

I know that recently, Dad was having a hard time keeping up with it. He even had to hire someone in order to stay on top of things, an apprentice of sorts. That was very unusual of him, but it was clear that he needed help. Seeing that he left me the business, he’d probably hoped that help would come from me.

I should have paid more attention.

Work couldn’t have been the reason for the heart attack. I’d have known if he had been stressed.

No, he was satisfied, happy even, and always spoke highly of the apprentice. But that’s not enough now. And the fact that I don’t know this person, just makes the guilt creep even more fully down my spine. I can taste it, even under the bitter coffee that I’m sipping.

Bottom line, I wasn’t present the way that I should have been.

I called once a week. It used to be more. Every day. Then every other day. Then three times a week. Two. Once.

Life got the best of me.

You never think about it. How things change when you get older. Family is always there and always important. But so are your own pursuits, and so is your own business. And my business requires the same amount of time as the winery.

I can’t do both.

I shake my head and try to reorient my focus on the many emails that I need to send out.

“Mr. Bale, do you have a minute?” Samantha, my personal assistant, has slightly opened my office door and tucks her head inside.

Frustrated, I open my mouth to say something about knocking but from her expression I realize she’s probably done that already, and for her to come here despite not getting a response, she probably has something important to say.

“Mr. Freeman is here, sir, and—”

“Didn’t I tell you to cancel my meetings?”

“I did but apparently his secretary didn’t reach him in time. What should I do?”

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