“Dad, I’m twenty now.”
“I missed two years,” Harrison said. “Allow me to be embarrassing.”
Julian’s smile softened. “Okay. But only moderately embarrassing.”
Before Julian got out, Harrison stopped him.
“The night you left,” he said, “I was afraid. Not angry first. Afraid. Your mother had died, and the company was the only thing I still knew how to control. When you chose music, I heard it as losing you too.”
Julian listened quietly.
“That doesn’t excuse what I said,” Harrison continued. “It explains the weakness Deborah used. I should have loved you with open hands.”
Julian looked down at the cracked pocket watch he now wore on a new chain.
“I should have told you I was scared too,” he said. “I acted like your business was a prison, but really I was afraid I’d fail at music and prove you right.”
Harrison reached across the console and squeezed his shoulder.
“Then fail honestly if you must. I’ll still be in the front row.”
Julian laughed, but his eyes shone.
