Lost December by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online

the bald. Now, magically, he had a full head of hair.
    “Nice locks,” I said.
    “My new rug,” Henry said, tilting his head slightly to show off his hairpiece. “I can even swim in it.”
    “Now you’re going to be fighting women off with a stick.”
    “That’s the idea,” Henry said. He stuck out his hand. “Congratulations on your graduation. The family’s first M.B.A.”
    “Yeah, well I think they’ve done pretty well without one.”
    “Most of the time,” Henry said. I had no idea what he meant by the comment but let it slide.
    “Luke.”
    I turned around to see my father standing in the doorway of his office. I was surprised by how different he looked to me—how much older. It had been longer than I realized. He walked slowly across the room. We embraced.
    After we parted, I asked, “You feeling okay?”
    “I’m great,” he said. “Just a little sore from this morning’s squash match. Come in, come in. Let’s talk.”
    I followed him into his office and he shut the door behind us. Everything, except my father, looked exactly the same asit had when I left. I sat down in a tucked leather chair in front of his desk, and he walked in front of me, sitting on the edge of his desk. “I’m so proud of you, Luke. Our first M.B.A.”
    “It’s no big deal,” I said.
    “It’s a very big deal,” he replied. His eyes were filled with pride. “I’ve been so excited for your return. And so ready to get started.”
    I looked at him. “Started?”
    A large smile crossed his face. “On the transition. I’m ready to start turning the company over to you.”
    I knit my fingers together in my lap, not sure what to say.
    When I didn’t speak, his expression turned. “You’re not happy about this? I thought you’d be happy …”
    “I’m not ready.”
    “Nonsense. You’ve been ready for years. You were raised in these stores. You know them better than anyone but me—and I’m ready to hand over the reins.”
    “Dad …” I just looked at him. I could see concern cross his face. “Look, I don’t want to do this.”
    My father looked at me without comprehension. “It doesn’t have to happen overnight.”
    “I mean
ever.”
    A shadow came over his face. “What do you mean?”
    “I don’t want to chain myself to Crisp’s.”
    He just looked at me quietly for a moment. “I don’t understand. What do you want to do?”
    “I want to
live.”
    “I still don’t understand,” he said.
    “I want to really live. I want to experience life. I’ve worked since I was twelve.”
    He looked confused.
    “Did I tell you about my friend, James?” I asked.
    My father shook his head. “Your roommate?”
    “No, James was another friend of mine. He was a serious guy. Hardworking, very religious. He graduated third in our class.”
    My father was just staring at me, no doubt wondering what James had to do with our conversation. “No. You never told me about him.”
    “Graduation night he was killed by a drunk driver.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “All that work and sacrifice was for nothing,” I said. “He wasted his life.”
    “I wouldn’t call that a wasted life.”
    “Then what would you call it?”
    “Anything but wasted. A man who lives an ethical life adds to the whole of the human family—no matter how brief that life might be.”
    “You’re an idealist, Dad. But the bottom line is, he could have enjoyed his life, instead of spending all those hours at the library poring over his books for nothing.” I slowly shook my head. “I used to believe that that was how life was supposed to be. But I don’t anymore. Life is meant to be lived, not sweated away. I’m not that kind of fool.”
    “You mean a fool like me.”
    “You’re twisting my words,” I said. “You’re no one’s fool.You’ve lived your life the way it worked for you. I just want to do the same.”
    My father didn’t reply.
    “When you insisted that I leave Arizona, you said it was because you didn’t