005 – Writer's Escape
I didn't want to fall into my old ways, I told you this was to be my world of rest.
Cold logic demands a sense of ruthlessness, and I was already displaying a fair bit of it in my attempts to improve the family business.
The next step, well the next step would have pulled me back into my old ways… I couldn't remember it clearly but the sensation I get every time I consider it gives me a sense of guilty pleasure.
But that me doesn't belong here, this is Lucian Niklaus Thatcher's life, and it must be a life of peace, I didn't have it in me anymore to be the old me, not in this life.
I continued the work for another year, in which time we opened an additional 3 restaurants, with the fact that I was all grown up and mom didn't need to spend all her free time taking care of me she started to open up new stores.
And with it my worries grew, more stores meant more boring work, the only excitement I found was when a wrench entered the plans and messed things up, but I couldn't count on such things to frequently happen, considering that I'd been filing the business with talents.
I suppose the food was incredible, but after trying the food at some of those places, I would be forced to feel guilty about the treatment my toilet received afterward.
The new staff were far too capable of sorting out the messes before they ever reached my ears, so it became more boring than ever.
But in that year I hadn't been idle, I was slowly concocting my plan for an early retirement, I doubted that Mom was going to be pleased, but if I went any further there would have been no turning back for me, my rest would come to its end.
And so, one morning at the end of the year 2059 I dropped a pile of notes on moms desk, which included my resignation.
"Mom I'm going to become a writer," I proclaimed causing her to look up at me with a curious expression, contrary to my expectations.
---
I suppose I should have expected her to be unsurprised by my declaration, I had been writing all those notes since I was so young, that for most of my childhood, everyone was convinced that the genius heir of the Thatcher family was going to become a writer.
But that all died when I turned thirteen and stopped writing, it wasn't that I didn't want to continue, but every attempt to dig any deeper landed me in a hospital room, the worst part is that I could only remember the surface.
Honestly, if I wrote my life story down, I'd have needed several of my current lifetimes to record just the basics, but I don't think that was ever the intent, there was something far more important that needed preserving, much more important than my memories.
When I look upon my notes it feels more like I was writing a set of very complex rules, it's what I used to establish the moral structure of my characters in 'Heavenly Paths', though I'm quite certain that I barely scratched the surface like I said I find it hard to understand the things I once wrote.
Over that year I put together a decent story and mixed in pieces of my past that I managed to record, I can't say that the Heavenly Paths, is my life story, but it does draw much inspiration from it, at least what I could remember, which isn't very much.
---
"I'm glad," Mother replied with a smile, "You were really good at your job but you always looked so miserable at it, I'm sorry for putting it on you," she apologised and came around her desk to give me a tight hug.
I don't know why I hadn't noticed it sooner, but when she hugged me I could feel how much frailer she had become over the years and noticed all the grey hairs that dotted her once radiant blonde head.
My mind was still so accustomed to my old world that it only occurred to me at that point that my mother was growing old, at an alarming rate.
A part of me wanted to ask her to give up the business and retire, but I knew it wasn't going to happen, it wasn't about the money, as I mentioned before we were filthy rich a long time ago, the restaurant was the dream she shared with dad.
It was apparent that even after all these years she couldn't give up on her love for him, she tried dating for a little bit when I entered my teens, but none of her dates went past the first.
She simply couldn't bring herself to forget, I think that was the first time I really wished that I had gotten to know him, that desire came a little late in life, but it wouldn't be until a few years later that I would learn that he was actually involved in quite a lot of my life… in little ways that I never noticed, he was still there.
Time passed quickly as the year went by, my mother cheated a little to help me out, there are few doors that money can't open, and starter publisher companies are always in need of a little extra cash.
It took a year for all the details to be sorted, and there was my first release, and the only book that you will find that possesses my real name, Lucian Niklaus Thatcher, the first book of 'Heavenly Paths', and only on first edition copies.
Given that the next book in my series uses my pen name, you can guess what the next big change was that entered my life… marriage.
My mother and cousins were always pestering me, my girl cousins would bring along their friends and introduce them to me, while my mom would introduce her 'colleges' daughters.
'Urgh,' shy and bashful teens overwhelmed by their hormones, I get it, it's natural, but I was just far too old to deal with such immaturity even in my old life I believed in cold logic.
All this marriage nonsense because of emotions rubs me the wrong way, the only marriages I agree in are those born of practicality, emotions are a volatile factor, they easily erupt and quickly burn out, but practicality is eternal.
And it seemed that my mother was much more observant than I gave her credit for, because that's exactly how she managed to get me tied down… it all began on one fateful day…
---
"Lucian dear," Mother called out to me as I walked past her office door.
I paused in the hallway, a long carpet covered the wooden floor, no one and I mean no one was allowed to walk on those shiny floors, it was polished and glossed on a daily basis and even I dreaded walking where the floor revealed itself.
Angry mothers are always scary, no matter how much they love their children.
I turned and stepped towards the open door, "Howzit going Mom, you need anything?" I asked as I stepped into the office, it had a couple of white fabric couches set around a fireplace that burned in its orange glow emanating a gentle warmth, cabinets, and drawers of light oak lined the walls all methodically arranged, I give credit to myself for that.
Mom's desk was at the back, a couple of folders were neatly arranged, and a couple of photos decorated it.
Photos of dad and her, me, some family and pictures of us together, there was even one that had mom, dad, and me in it, a 2-year-old me sitting in a red chair, with mom and dad on either side, dad was added in digitally of course.
"Dear please take a seat I'll be with you in a minute," she said with that mischievous smile, I don't know why but every time I saw it I got this terrifying sensation of ill omen, like I landed in some trap, it happened every time she fed me some exotic or foreign foods.
I confronted her several times about it, but she would always laugh mysteriously and tell me to figure it out myself.
I sighed and walked over to one of the couches and took a seat watching the fires dance, at that moment I felt envious of the flames, I could already tell that I wasn't going to like what was coming next, and would have done anything to switch place with those carefree flames.
I didn't wait long when Mom took a seat next to me and curled her legs on the couch, she was holding a folder close to her chest as she looked at me, with a slightly nervous expression.
"Dear there is a girl that I would like you to meet and hopefully marry," she said gulping down her saliva, I could tell that there was more to come but I wanted to put a halt to it right there and then.
"huff," I let out a long sigh as soon as the words left her mouth, "Wow Mom I am surprised, this is the first time you've jumped straight to the 'm' word,"
"But seriously Mom, I'm not interested, I don't care for getting married, girls my age are far too immature and annoying," I spoke curtly as I climbed from my seat.
"Well you're in luck young man, because the girl is a little on the older side," Mother quickly replied with a twitch in her eye as she watched me climb from my seat.
"How old?"
"26"
"Then it's even worse Mom," I complained not stopping the movement of my feet towards the door, "If she's so old and unmarried it can only be one of six possibilities," I answered as I snuck towards the door.
"One, she has self-esteem issues, she probably thinks she's ugly or fat or something else, which will make her way to high maintenance, I have trouble maintaining myself, let alone another human person,"
"Two, is far worse, an over inflated ego, I'd rather shoot myself, and we both know that getting a gun isn't so easy anymore,"
"Three, she's obsessed with her work and has no time for anything else, honestly, that's the best possibility, but it also means she'll be against this arrangement,"
"Four, she's one of those independent ones who want nothing to do with men and thinks herself all high and mighty, no thank you but that's almost as bad as number 2,"
"Five, she's one of those partygoers, incapable of commitment and just plain frustrating to deal with,"
"Six, she's being forced into this, which is the recipe for a disaster marriage,"
I quickly gave a very logical and fair argument as I set one foot out the door into the corridor.