Surviving the King

The warmth of morning sunlight on my eyelids made me flinch. I groaned and grimaced as I sat up in a huff. “Elena! Please stop drawing the curtains before my alarm!” I couldn’t even help but smile a little as I heard the shuffled footsteps in the hallway. Elena’s round brown eyes were widened as she peered at me over her 1980s style glasses. “It’s time to get up, Mari–I mean, Miss Galindo.” I let out a noticeable sigh as my beloved friend struggled with the habit of familiarity. She was like family to me having been around for most of my life through the good, bad, ugly and sad. ‘Miss Galindo’ was just shy of how my mother was addressed in the household and it put a pang in my heart. I didn’t even register the now familiar feeling of tears welling up in my eyes before Elena sat next to me wiping them away with a ready handkerchief. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as she gathered me into a hug. “Mija we all miss her. Very much.” Elena smoothed my hair and lifted my head by gently raising my chin. “Today is very important. You must get ready. Your breakfast will be ready in the sunroom.” ‘Gah! Mom used to do that before board meetings, too’ I recalled. I remember her beautiful long, dark hair swept into a very stringent bun and her curves restricted to a very stringent pants suit as I’d walked into the sunroom almost a year ago. She honestly had looked quite cold and distant from the back, but the second she felt me in the room she turned the warmest smile and loving eyes on me, instantly making me feel whole. Elena stood and drew my mind back to the present. She folded my duvet back and held out her hands to pull me from the bed. I complied with a smile as she helped me up, then grabbed my phone from the nightstand and followed me toward the bathroom. She turned the water on in the shower for me, docked my phone, and laid out my towels. This wasn’t normal for her to do, but she knew I was getting by on autopilot lately. In fact, I didn’t even realize I’d gotten lost in my own stare in the mirror when she twirled my hair up into a clip with a muttered run of Portuguese. “Aye! Don’t stare in like that!” she said before putting my favorite body wash in my hand and excusing herself from the bathroom. “Fifteen minutes,” Elena added from the other side of the door. ‘Mari, get it together!’ I thought as I kicked into gear. I tried washing the pain of loss and the fear of not measuring up off my body. My parents were phenomenal business people, but my mother was also beloved. I only felt like I had the energy to be one or the other as I got dressed. “There she is!” Dad exclaimed from the head of the breakfast table. He took off his glasses and quickly freed his hands of his tablet. “Good morning,” I said as I leaned to give him a hug. My gut said that he way laying it on thick already, but I was going to roll with it. “How are you feeling?” His faintly aging, yet handsome face fell slightly. As worldly as my father was, he was still the type to avoid talking about feelings whenever possible. “I’m going to be fine, mija.” My eyebrows raised involuntarily in surprise; he noticed and raised his juice glass at me in a silent agreement. He was working on it! Dad could be a cold bastard sometimes, but I always knew he loved me and had been crazy about my mother. We ate comfortably in silence before he sat back in his chair and put on his business air. “Are you ready?” he asked, but I knew it wasn’t a question. “I’m technically prepared, yes. Do I want to do this, f**k no.” “Marisca Anielle…” I drew a deep breath counting all twenty four of the years I’d aged for him to take me back to age three. “Father?” “It’s not polite, is all.” He said smiling at my annoyance as he stood and buttoned his blazer. “I’ll drive you to the office.” My heart warmed. Dad used to drive mom to the office for quarterly board meetings. Their love and continued romance over the years was one of the few truly beautiful things I’d experienced even while growing up in opulence. The garish austerity was aggravating the more aware I grew. Taking Elena to Brazil to see her family, sneaking off to see Dad’s family in Monterrey, or my weekends away with Mom in Texas seeing our huge extended family were times that I most enjoyed my childhood. Dad picked up my equipment bag and extended his arm to me. “This is nice, Mari. Very executive.” “It’s custom. Got in from Madrid yesterday,” I explained as he opened the door of his Maybach for me. Dad lightly jogged around the front of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. He drove so rarely, but loved it. As we crossed the bridge into the city we discussed different board members and their likely stances on today’s meeting topic: my appointment as CEO. Dad gave me details he’d picked up from Mom over the years or information she couldn’t leave to me in notes. We pulled up to the building and he turned his body to look at me. “You’ll do great, mija. I believe in you,” he rubbed his wedding band. “We believe in you.” Dad’s eyes watered and I reached to hug him tightly. I fought the stinging in my eyes. “I love you.” We said at once and then laughed. My assistant, Jada, opened the door and took my Balenciaga bag. “Ooh, this is lovely,” she said as my Dad drove away. She looked impeccable with her locs tied back in an intricate updo, wide framed black glasses, and red high neck pencil dress. “Forget the bag, girl…that dress!” I said as we walked into the lobby and called for the elevator. Jada squealed a little as she poked her immaculate black pumps out at me, then kicked her heel up to show me the matching red soles. “I had to dress the part for your big day! You look amazing and probably rolled straight out of bed that way.” She wasn’t entirely wrong. If I hadn’t picked out my suit and had my hair done the night before, I’d have been late this morning. “I had to look the part,” I said nodding toward Mom’s huge picture in the reception area as we stepped off the elevator. Jada briefed me on a conference call I was to have following the meeting as our heels clicked down the hallway. She attentively swept stray hairs behind my ear and smoothed the back of my jacket before we got in sight of the glass board room doors. “Hey, Mari,” she said with her hand on the chrome door pull. “Yeah?” “Give them hell,” Jada said as she handed me Mom’s heavy signing pen and opened the door for me. It was the final boost I needed! The room smelled like thousands of dollars in cologne, custom leather shoes, and underestimation, but I held my head just the way my mother had when she knew she owned the floor. “Gentlemen,” I nodded right before I seated myself. “Shall we get started?”