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\u201cI know, Mom. I\u2019m grateful.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGratitude is a lovely sentiment,\u201d my father said, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. \u201cBut success\u2026 success is a shared venture. We sacrificed so much to raise you. In many ways, your success is our success, too. It\u2019s the return on our investment.\u201d<\/p>\n
He paused, letting the corporate metaphor hang in the air like cigar smoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is why,\u201d he continued, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that brooked no argument, \u201cwe believe it is only fair that you formally recognize our contribution. We want you to transfer fifty percent of\u00a0Northlane\u2019s\u00a0shares to us. It will ensure the family\u2019s future, and allow us to help you manage the burden of leadership.\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t ask. He stated it. It was the invoice for my existence.<\/p>\n
My mother smiled, a beatific expression that hid the steel trap beneath. \u201cIt\u2019s for your own good, sweetie. You\u2019re young. You need guidance.\u201d<\/p>\n