Maybe Later(84)

I frown. Adaptation is a verb I use often when asked what's the key to my success. The truth is that I have continued the legacy that my father left behind. But I never say that out loud. I avoid mentioning my parents, hating the intrusive questions about their deaths. They are officially off limits. I still remember the pity looks and sad, morbid stories printed about the orphan raising his younger siblings.

Everyone remembers September 11th. But the date holds a different significance for me, because that morning I lost my parents. I press a fist against my chest, pushing away the sad memories. Their voices, their directives, continuously play in my head. Their last words, their requests and the need to remind me that no matter where they are, they were still right next to me.

The call came through in the middle of class. Although I barely used my cell phone, I answered it when it rang. My parents only called me when there was an emergency.

“Scott, I need you to come back home.” Mom used the calmest voice she could fathom, but I sensed the edgy tone of desperation.

Something was wrong. My stomach dropped, but I didn’t ask any questions. I rose from my seat grabbing my things and left the classroom.

“Talk to me, Mom. What’s going on?” I asked, rushing toward the dorm.

“Harrison will explain everything,” she said, her voice breaking.

My limbs tingled as the anxiety in her voice spiked.

“I want you to remember that we love you,” she sobbed. “I love you so much, Scotty. You're my strong, sensitive boy. Please remember everything I taught you. I’ll be watching you from the moon and I’ll love you forever.”

I froze. Shocked by the finality of her words. My pulse slowed down as she repeated the words she said when she tucked us in when we were younger. A phrase that she made up from two of the books she used to read us when we were little.

“Mom, wait.” I felt sick to my stomach. “What do you mean?”

My limbs tingled. Fear rushed through me as I waited for an answer. For some reassurance that they’re going on a long trip, but I’d see them soon. Panic buzzed in my ears, every second that passed felt like a year.

“I need you to be the glue of our family, keep everyone together.” I heard her cry, and my father murmuring in the background.

“I can’t, Chris,” she wailed, calling Dad.

“Mom?”

My father answered. “It’s time for us to leave, Scott. I’ll take care of her. You help Harrison take care of your brothers.” I could still hear Mom in the background, crying.

His voice was dry, sad… desperate. He didn’t break as he reminded me of their will. The lawyers, the safe, all the essential details.

I remained mute, trembling.

Still.

Unable to understand what’s happening.

“I love you, son,” he said. “Be the bridge. Stay strong.”

My parents used to say that I was the link between my brothers. I was the one who kept the peace—or started the biggest fights.

“I love you both,” I mumbled as the line went dead.

My oldest brother, Harrison, called me almost immediately. “I have no idea what’s going on, Scott. Two planes crashed into the towers. There’s a rumor that we’re under attack. Maybe this is war.”

I huffed, pushing away the sadness. Keeping my shit together while we spoke. “Not another one of your conspiracy theories, Harrison. You need to stop making up shit.”

“This isn’t a joke. The World Trade Center is burning down.” He stopped, exhaling several times. “Raging fire is consuming the steel and glass along with all the people who are trapped. Mom and Dad included. We need you back.”

I reached my room, opening the door I began searching for my duffle bag.

“Dad mentioned it; I’m already packing.” I used my cool voice. If I wanted him to treat me as his equal, I had to show him that I was strong.

“Good. Jensen is locating a car service for you. From this point forward, we are in charge. You can’t lose your shit. I’m picking up Hunter from school.”

Harrison was planning, making decisions and pushing away all his feelings. I had to do the same and be ready for what would happen next. For a couple of hours, I allowed myself to cry. I cried until my eyes dried. Until I felt strong enough to help Harrison and care for Hunter and Fitz.

I adjusted, as everyone expected. Harry’s rage was so intense that he chose to enlist in the army. Leaving the company to me. I didn't mind taking over, even when he had the experience. Everything I do in regard to Everhart Industries is with my brothers in mind.

“They warned me that you’d be cryptic.”

I arch an eyebrow toward the phone. Who is she talking about? I’m curious, but I resist asking. I want this interview to be over soon. I text my brother, Fitz while I wait for her next question.

Scott: Fitz do you have the contracts ready?

“I think I got most of my answers,” she sighs on the other line. “For my last question, I’ll be quick.”

“What fulfills you?” she asks. “I’m sure there’s more underneath. CEO suits you, but what makes you…you. What makes you want to be a better Scott Everhart?”

I turn to my computer screen, holding the phone with one hand and clicking the mouse with the free one until it wakes. The home screen is the snapshot of the one person who fulfills my dreams, my fantasies, and my life. She’s the one who makes me want to be a better person.