Chapter 20 - The Tans
1462 Words
Before there was a family business, there were John and Mary Tan.
My grandparents never talked about themselves as founders.
Other people did.
Employees did.
Customers did.
Eventually, even their children did.
Grandpa preferred to say that he and Grandma had simply needed to make a living.
They had started small. Very small, according to Grandma, although every time she told the story, Grandpa claimed she made the beginning sound worse than it actually was.
“We had one proper machine,” Grandma would say.
“Two.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“The second one barely worked.”
“It still counts.”
“It caught fire.”
“Only once.”
I'd heard that conversation at least twenty times.
It always ended with Grandma shaking her head and Grandpa smiling as though almost burning down their first workshop had been one of his greatest achievements.
That was John and Mary.
They had built something valuable without ever learning to behave like wealthy people.
Grandpa still complained when someone left a light on.
Grandma still kept containers that everyone else would have thrown away because, according to her, there was absolutely nothing wrong with them.
Their house was comfortable but never impressive.
They could have lived differently.
They simply didn't want to.
To them, money had one purpose.
It kept the family safe.
Maybe that was where everything eventually went wrong.
They believed everyone else understood money the same way.
Mum was their only daughter.
Then there were her brothers.
Victor was the oldest.
Somewhere over the years, without anyone officially deciding it, Uncle Victor had become the head of the family.
Grandpa was still respected.
Grandma was still the person everyone listened to when she became unusually quiet.
But Victor made decisions.
He knew the customers, negotiated contracts and spoke about the company as though he could see ten years into its future.
I admired him.
Most of us did.
When I was younger, Uncle Victor had been the person who could walk into a room full of arguing relatives and somehow make everyone stop.
He carried responsibility naturally.
Maybe too naturally.
Then there was Uncle Vincent.
The youngest.
Kaelob liked to say Vincent's greatest contribution to the Tan family was creating more Tans.
He had children everywhere.
At least, that was how it felt.
Whenever we had a family gathering, half the children running around seemed to belong to him.
He was married to Ellie, his second wife.
I liked Aunt Ellie.
Everyone did.
She was a teacher and had the strange ability to make even adults behave themselves simply by looking at them.
She wasn't interested in expensive clothes or impressive cars.
She packed food for people before they left her house and remembered everyone's birthdays.
She and Mum got along well.
Back then.
And then there was Leyla.
Victor's wife.
Leyla was different.
Not unpleasant.
That would have been easier.
She was beautiful, charming and very good at making people feel important.
She remembered what people liked.
She gave thoughtful gifts.
She laughed at Grandpa's stories even when she'd heard them before.
Grandma never seemed completely convinced by her.
But Grandma wasn't completely convinced by anyone Victor dated.
At least, that was what Mum always said.
Leyla came from a family that thought differently about money than my grandparents did.
There was nothing wrong with wanting nice things.
At sixteen, I certainly didn't think there was.
Leyla liked beautiful houses, designer clothes and expensive restaurants.
Victor could afford them.
Why shouldn't she?
The problem wasn't what Leyla bought.
The problem was something none of us understood yet.
She didn't see the company as something the family protected together.
She saw it as something that could belong to someone.
One Saturday, almost a month after Damian returned to Germany, we all gathered at my grandparents' house.
That wasn't unusual.
Food covered most of the table. Vincent's children were everywhere. Kaelob was arguing with one of our cousins. Grandpa was pretending not to give the younger children sweets while Grandma repeatedly caught him doing exactly that.
Mum was helping in the kitchen.
I was supposed to be helping too.
Instead, I was texting Damian.
Damian: What are you doing?
Me: Family lunch.
Damian: How many people?
I looked around.
Me: Somewhere between 20 and 400.
Damian: That's very precise.
Me: Vincent keeps reproducing. We stopped counting.
Kaelob looked over my shoulder.
“You're horrible.”
“You say worse.”
“True.”
He stole something from my plate.
I slapped his hand.
Across the table, Leyla watched us.
“Still talking to the German boy?”
I looked up.
“His name is Damian.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
“He's handsome.”
“Aunt Leyla.”
“What?”
Victor laughed.
“Leave her alone.”
“I'm being nice.”
“You're embarrassing her.”
“That too.”
Everyone laughed.
Including me.
Then Leyla looked toward Mum, who had just sat down beside Grandma.
“Maybe Rose will move to Germany one day.”
Mum looked up.
“She's sixteen.”
“I said one day.”
“She's going to finish school first.”
“Of course.”
Leyla smiled at me.
“And then university?”
“I don't know.”
That was the truth.
People had started asking me what I wanted to do with my life.
I hated the question.
Kaelob seemed to have a hundred ideas.
I had none.
Grandpa leaned toward me.
“You don't have to know yet.”
“Thank you.”
“Your mother didn't know either.”
Mum looked offended.
“Yes, I did.”
Grandma laughed.
“No, you didn't.”
“What did she want to be?” I asked.
Grandpa smiled.
“Everything.”
“That sounds like her.”
Mum threw a napkin at me.
For a moment, everyone laughed.
Then Victor's phone rang.
Business.
It usually was.
He stepped away.
Mum watched him go.
Leyla did too.
“He works too much,” she said.
Grandpa nodded.
“The company needs him.”
Leyla looked at Grandpa.
“The company needs all of us.”
Something about the way she said it made Grandma glance at her.
Only for a second.
Then Ellie asked Mum about something at school and the conversation moved on.
Nobody thought about it again.
Why would we?
Families said things.
People disagreed.
Then they ate together.
That was how it had always worked.
Later, I found Grandma alone in the kitchen.
She was packing leftovers into containers.
“You're taking those home.”
It wasn't a question.
“We have food.”
“You'll eat this too.”
I smiled.
There was no point arguing.
I helped her close the containers.
“You miss him.”
I looked at her.
“Who?”
Grandma gave me a look.
Apparently, subtlety wasn't genetic in our family.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Does he treat you well?”
“Yes.”
“Does he respect you?”
The question surprised me.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“That easy?”
“What?”
“You don't want to know who his family is? What they do? How much money they have?”
Grandma frowned.
“Why would I care?”
I laughed.
She touched my cheek.
“Money can make life easier, Rose. It cannot tell you whether someone is good.”
I didn't know then how often I would remember those words.
Especially because money would eventually become the thing that changed our family.
Not because we didn't have enough.
Because people began asking who had the right to what we had.
That evening, Mum stayed behind at the company after everyone else left.
She often did.
Victor made the decisions.
Vincent handled parts of the operations.
But Mum knew the numbers.
Every invoice.
Every account.
Every payment.
Every obligation the business carried.
Grandpa trusted her completely.
So did Victor.
So did Vincent.
Back then, trust was something none of us thought about.
It was simply there.
Like the company.
Like Sunday lunches.
Like Grandma packing food nobody needed.
Like Grandpa pretending not to spoil his grandchildren.
Like Mum fixing problems before anyone else knew they existed.
Like Victor leading.
Vincent laughing.
Ellie keeping the children under control.
Leyla sitting beside her husband, listening.
Watching.
Learning.
We were the Tans.
Messy, loud and far too involved in each other's lives.
But together.
At sixteen, I believed that was permanent.
I thought families could fight without breaking.
I thought love made people loyal.
And I thought the things my grandparents had built would always belong to all of us.
I was wrong about all three.
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