“You said you wouldn’t interfere.”
“We had a deal,” my mother responds, crossing her arms and raising one eyebrow.
The Wilder stubborn streak is highly heritable. We all have it. It’s just that, mostly, we don’t use it for intrafamily warfare. Well, aside from the ways my brothers and I torment each other for sport.
And worse, my mom’s right. We did have a deal.
“I gave you a year to turn it around your way,” she says. “You said that if you couldn’t, you’d let me do it my way. Well, this is my way.”
I stalk across the small Wilder Adventures conference room. I made her meet me here an hour ahead of the meeting with Lucy. She wanted to know why, but I figured if she could blindside me, I could blindside her.
“You could have warned me,” I accuse.
“And if I had?”
I know what she’s driving at. If she’d let me know sooner that she was bringing in a consultant, I would have fought it, just like I am now. “I would have had a chance to talk you out of it.”
“You would have fought it relentlessly,” she says. “You would have wanted to do more of the same, and, Gabriel, the same is not working. More ads, expensive ads in men’s magazines. More trying to reach the Portland audience. Meanwhile Portland is full of hipsters buying premium artisanal extra virgin olive-oil-flavored ice cream, not guys wanting to test their mettle in the woods. And all the while we’re sitting on this huge untapped audience of girls’ weekends and newlyweds and couples having sexy getaways and bridal showers and bachelor parties and wedding guests in need of entertainment. And I’ve been saying this to you and you’ve been saying—”
“I don’t want to dumb it down and soften it up.”
“I know, Gabriel,” my mother says gently. “I get it. I really do. But you also don’t want to lose the business.”
She knows she has me, and not because of the business per se. Because the business isn’t just a business. It’s what holds our whole family together. It employs all four of my brothers, and even provides some side income to my sister, who does a bunch of office work for us. If the business goes under, there’s a healthy chance at least some of us would have to live somewhere else to get work—assuming any of us could find something in the outdoors business that isn’t cashier at an outdoor retailer. And I promised—promised—my dad I would take care of this family and keep us together.
That’s a promise I’ll never break.
Still, I can’t help but think my dad would also be horrified by the idea of lavender sachets in the sleeping bags.
My mother recognizes my weak spot and takes a jab. “She’s here now. She came all this way. At least hear her out.”
“You set this up on purpose so I’d have to hear her out.” I scowl.
“I recognize stubborn in my own kid. And no surprise. You’re the first child of two first children. Nobody tougher, more obstinate, or better suited for turning this business around.”
I close my eyes. Here’s what I know. If this summer season doesn’t double the revenue of last summer, we’ll have trouble making payroll by winter. And if the winter season doesn’t double the revenue of last winter, I’ll have to let one or more of my brothers go.
My brothers.
No fucking way.
“Gabriel,” my mother says. “I have a proposition for you.”
I lift my chin to look at her. Her eyes are soft. She’s still a pretty woman, my mom. Sometimes I wonder if she’ll date again at some point. My dad’s been gone more than fifteen years.
“Let Lucy do her job. Let her make a proposal for revamping the business to succeed in this market. Cooperate with her, give her what she needs, hear her out. You do that, and I’ll give you and your brothers my share of the business, with you as the majority shareholder.”
Holy shit.
I’ve always wanted to own the business. Not because I want to take anything away from my mom, but my grandfather owned it, and my father, and it feels like what I need to do. But my dad left it to my mom, and I never felt like I could take that away from her.
But here it is. My chance. Right in my lap.
And all I have to do is let her sprinkle me with lavender.
She drives a hard bargain.
Good to know my business genes are sound.
How hard can it be, hearing Lucy out? She’s obviously a smart woman who knows her shit. I brace myself.
“I don’t have to take her advice?”
“You have to seriously consider it,” my mom says. “You have to convince me that you gave it real thought. But no. You don’t have to take it.”
“I still think there’s another way,” I say. “To keep the heart of the business as is, not turn it into—” I swallow bile. “Bachelorette parties and beer hikes and singles outings.”
“And if you give Lucy’s plan the consideration it deserves, Wilder will be all yours to do with as you wish.”
That sounds pretty good to me.
I stick my hand out and we shake. “One more thing,” I say.
“Hmm?”
“You have to tell Brody, Clark, Easton, and Kane that we’re going after the New Rush Creek market. Before Lucy gets here. ‘Cause I’m sure as hell not telling them.”
“I deserve that,” she says, shaking her head.
“You do.”
She slumps down into a chair at the conference table.
“You reap what you sow,” I tell her.
She shoots a look at me across the table, then straightens and smirks. I can tell before she opens her mouth I’m not going to like what she’s going to say.
“Kath Kenney told me she saw you and Lucy at the Depot Hotel bar last night.”
“Yeah? So?” I think of Lucy dissing small towns and gossip last night, and have to swallow a smile. She might have a point.
“She said you looked awful cozy.”
“That was before I knew who she was.”
“Been a while since you looked cozy with anyone.”
“Cozy’s not my thing, Mom. You know that.”
She eyes me thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time to think about changing that.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t push your luck. You won the important battle.”
She smiles at that—and then frowns, because we can both hear my brothers’ voices outside, and these next few minutes are going to be no fun at all.
For her, anyway.
“I’m gonna go take a stroll,” I say. “Enjoy yourself.”