“How you been, Hen? Haven’t seen you for a bit.”
“Busy, trying to plan out the rest of the season. You know this time of year is chaos, whether we have everything planned out or not.”
My dad grabs a mug from the cabinet and brings it over to me, along with the French press. “Getting fancy with the French press now, Dad?”
He leans in and kisses my cheek. My dad is never one to shy away from affection. Even as a teenager, he would wrap us in unwanted hugs and always welcomed us home with kisses on the cheek. Physical touch, signs of affection, are his love language I learned as I got older. But after football practices, getting a backslap and a smooch from your dad was next-level embarrassing in front of the whole team. Now, I lean into it. Asher Riggs is the best kind of man. For me, a sounding board. A reminder to be the kind of man I want to be.
“The coffeemaker is broken and the new one I ordered doesn't get here until next week. Callen brought over this thing. Not bad, but way more complicated than pressing a few buttons.” He laughs, taking a sip of the black coffee he just topped off in his mug after pouring mine. “But it’s good.” He winks at Callen.
“Alright, I’ve gotta start my shift in a little bit. Ash, I’ll talk to you later,” Callen says. He stands and puts on his sheriff’s hat. It’s still a bit crazy for me to see him wearing it, considering how much trouble he used to get in when we were younger. “Hen, always good to see you, man. You let me know when you all want to do some sparring again with Mac. I could use some new partners. The regulars are starting to be predictable.” I don’t miss the way he brings his attention back to my dad.
I sip my coffee as Callen makes his way out.
“I didn’t think you’d be busy this morning so early, I would have called first if I’d known,” I tell my dad. He bats the air, as if to say, “don’t be silly.”
Watching and waiting for me to tell him what I’m here about, he leans on his elbows across from me. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to say, but now that I’m here, I’m nervous to disappoint him.
“Hen, it’s six-thirty in the morning on a Sunday. Whatever it is, you can tell me, but I know you’re not here just for a cup of coffee and a visit.”
I laugh. I blow out the breath I must have been holding, and look at my old man. The funny part is he doesn’t look old. Just the opposite, in fact. Happy and thriving. He went our entire lives without having a partner through it all and he never complained about it. My mother left him with four little kids, and he just made it work. Even now, I wonder if he thinks about moving on with someone. If he feels like he missed out. He looks content, but I would give anything to see him with someone that makes him smile the way that I’ve been doing since the Cayman Islands.
I look down at my hands. Anxious to tell the one person I never want to disappoint something that will, at some level, disappoint him. Or at the very least, make his life harder.
“I need to step away from the business.”
He smiles and nods, as if he was expecting it.
“What’s changed? I thought you liked what you’re doing.”
I clear my throat. “It’s not that I’ve stopped liking it. I just have new”—I search for the right word or words—“priorities. And maybe even a new perspective on what I really want to be doing every day.” I take another sip of my coffee and lean back in my chair, a little less anxious now that I got that out.
“You know I wasn’t ever looking to step in as CEO.”
He nods in response. He’s known for years that I never wanted that role. It was always Everly primed to take his spot when he was ready, but when she left last year to tackle her apparel line, everyone just assumed I’d be the one to step up.
My dad comes around from the counter and tilts his head for me to follow him. He leads us down into the lower level of the house. A space he’s converted into one part wine cellar and the other, a state-of-the-art movie theater. The spiral staircase that leads down, carries a chill as soon as we hit the midway point. He flicks on the lights and the entire room of wine illuminates. Every cubby that holds a bottle of wine, and the oversized wine barrels spread throughout the center, all glow with a warm light from underneath.
Every season, he hosts a small wine tasting with friends from town. Some who are regulars and others who are lucky enough to get an invite. Ash never does anything small, so the wine tasting ends up being a full evening of wine and food pairings. A few of which I’ve helped him host when he couldn’t fly in a Michelin-Star chef, because of weather or conflicts.
“What’s your plan? I know you, Hen, you wouldn’t be telling me this unless it’s something you already have a plan for,” he says. I watch as he walks down to the far end of the wall. He pulls out a bottle of white and then moves to the other end and pulls out a bottle of champagne.
After I tell him my thoughts about cooking. Turning my love for that into something I could make a living doing, he smiles wide. He starts spit-balling concepts with me. Ways to cut the overhead until I decide it has success potential. He lights up about all of it. I don’t know that he was ever this excited when I asked to join Riggs Outdoor.
I nod at the bottles he’s holding. “What are those for?”
He holds up the bottle of white wine. “She likes this one best.” And then he holds up the bottle of champagne. “This one is the perfect floater for those limoncello smashes she always asks me to make.”
“Who?”
He gives me a death-like stare. “I’m not stupid, Henry.”
I just laugh and shake my head. “How long have you known?”
“Kid, give me a break. You’ve been in love with that girl since the first time you laid eyes on her. Awkward, since when you met her, you were engaged to someone else, but it’s about time you both got your heads out of your asses.”
If he only knew.But that right there is Asher Riggs. Really the best parent anyone could ask for and the kind of friend you always hope sees things for what they really are.
“It was also going to take something big to get you on a different path. I’m just glad that it’s with Giselle. She’s already family.” He rubs the back of his neck, realizing something he hadn’t maybe considered. “Does Everly know?”