* * *
The drive back to the Robertson Renewable Energy Company offices went by both quickly and slowly. Quickly because it was over before he was even aware of the trip taking place, and slowly because he kept reviewing and rehearsing what he was going to say to his father once he got him alone.
None of the words sounded right to him, but they were all he had.
And then he was there, and there was no more time to rehearse.
“Is he in?” Bowie asked Jeannie, his father’s administrative assistant, as he quickly walked past the woman’s desk.
“Yes, but he’s on his way out,” she warned, calling after him as she half rose from her desk.
“He’s always on his way out to somewhere,” Bowie answered. Reaching his father’s office, he knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for Franklin to give him permission to enter.
His father was in the middle of packing his briefcase and he looked up, surprised. “Didn’t think I’d see you today,” Franklin commented. It was clear that his father was preoccupied and wasn’t about to remain.
Crossing to his father’s desk, Bowie put his hand on top of the papers, causing his father to stop putting the papers into the case.
His father looked at him quizzically.
“Dad, we need to talk,” Bowie told him.
“Sure,” Franklin’s tone was carelessly dismissive. “When I get back.”
“No, Dad. Now,” Bowie insisted.
Stunned, Franklin looked his son. “What’s this about, Bowie?”
“About a few years overdue,” Bowie told his father quite honestly. He could see that his father didn’t understand. He tried a different tact. “I want you to hear this from me, Dad.”
“Hear what?” Franklin asked impatiently.
“You’re going to be a grandfather,” Bowie told him.
Several emotions seemed to sweep over the older Robertson’s face. And then he said, “Well, I suppose you were bound to slip up sooner or later. Will the woman listen to reason?” he asked.
He knew that his father meant, Could she be bought off? He contained his temper. “I’m going to marry her, Dad,” Bowie said.
Franklin’s eyes opened wide. “Oh?”
Bowie couldn’t quite read the expression on his father’s face, but he pushed on. “It’s Marlowe Colton.”
“What?” Franklin shouted, stunned. “Payne Colton’s daughter?” His face was red now. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“That Marlowe Colton is the woman I’ve been looking for all my life,” Bowie answered simply.
“That’s a bunch of horse manure!” Franklin declared. “You can’t be serious,” he insisted.
“Actually, Dad, I am very serious,” Bowie told him. “So serious that I’m willing to walk away from the company I love and believe in because my priorities have totally changed. I intend to be the husband and father that Marlowe and this baby both deserve and are entitled to, and I’m not about to allow anything to get in the way of that.”
Franklin stared at his son in disbelief. “You really mean that?”
“Yes, I do,” Bowie told him. “I know I
don’t have an example to follow, but that wasn’t your fault,” he added quickly, absolving his father of any blame for being absent for all those years. “You were busy building the company for the family. However, I fully intend to be a good father and husband to the best of my ability. I’m sorry to be so blunt, and if I hurt you, Dad, I don’t mean to, but—”
“No, you didn’t hurt me, Bowie,” his father was quick to assure him. And then he took him totally by surprise by adding, “I only wish that I had been half the man that you are. And, if you want to marry her, you have my blessings, Bowie. But please, don’t leave the company,” Franklin implored. “I need you, and I can’t do this without you. RoCo needs you,” he emphasized. “Stay. Whatever else you want to do is fine with me. I won’t stand in your way, but please, stay.”
Bowie hadn’t expect this, not in a million years. He grinned at his father, relieved beyond belief. “I will, Dad.”