But it was hard to fight a burning passion with years of habits and tradition.
I went out to get the mail and scanned the horizon. I listened out for any sounds of a car coming up the driveway. I pulled the scant mail from the mailbox and sighed, resolving myself to the fact that Ava wasn’t coming around today either.
But a letter staring me in the face ripped me from my trance.
It had Breathline Energies logo on it but was addressed to my father. I furrowed my brow as I opened up the letter, standing in the middle of the driveway. My eyes scanned the words as anger percolated in my gut. It was yet another threatening letter from Ava’s father’s fucking company. Saying some shit about getting the government involved if we didn’t sell our land. This company was relentless. Her father was relentless. And if he governed his family with the same techniques he used for his business, then Ava didn’t stand a chance fighting him alone.
The only thing I could hope was that her brothers would stand by her side.
The letter went on to state that the government would side with them in an argument to run a gas line through the mountains. This was the third threatening letter they had sent to us after they took their run at us in the media. Either way, I knew our company lawyers were going to have to get involved soon, which was shit because my parents were currently on vacation.
Which meant the call to the lawyer fell on my shoulders.
“Mr. Benson. What can I do for you?”
“Hey there, Richard. Look, is there any way I can set up a meeting with you?” I asked.
“Let me guess. Breathline Energies,” he said.
“You got it. I’ve got their third threatening piece of mail, but this one is from their own lawyers,” I said.
“We can get a meeting on the books. Do you want me to reach out to your parents about this?”
“No, no. Don’t bother them. I’ll give them a call. Dad doesn’t usually pick up his cell phone while they’re down there, but if I leave him a message, he’ll call back,” I said.
“I’ve got this Saturday open for lunch. We could make it an informal thing. I could give you your options, you could mull them over. We could talk formally over the phone about it that following Monday to give you time to talk with your parents.”
“That sounds perfect. Lunch Saturday it is. You pick the place and let me know when to be there,” I said.
“That’s easy. Twelve thirty at Little Gallea.”
“Do you eat anywhere else?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Nope. And my waistline can prove it. See you then, Travis. And don’t worry. They can threaten government involvement all they want. But unless they can prove your father’s company establishes a monopoly by holding onto this land, there isn’t anything they can do to intervene. But, we’ve got ways of getting them to shut their antics down. Starting by suing for harassment.”
“We’ll talk more Saturday, but thanks. That settles my mind a bit,” I said.
“Talk with you soon.”
“See ya Saturday.”
I hung up the phone and immediately called my father. I made my way inside, listening as the phone rang in my ear. I left him a voice message telling him it was urgent, but when I got a call back, it was my mother.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Hey, Mom. What’s going on with Dad?” I asked.
“He’s a bit… incapacitated at the moment.”
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“Son, will you just take my word for it and talk with me? He can’t come to his phone right now.”
“I don’t even want to know,” I said.
“You really don’t.”
“I can hear your grin.”