Tristan stepped into his room, his father's words still lingering in the air, heavy with expectation. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, staring at the large space that had been his refuge for years. The weight of his family's legacy hung over him, a constant reminder of the responsibilities he never asked for. Deciding to clear his mind, Tristan headed to the bathroom, turning on the shower. As the steam began to rise, he peeled off his clothes, stepping under the warm spray, hoping to wash away the tension.
The water cascaded over him, and as he closed his eyes, memories from his childhood began to resurface—days that felt simpler, easier. He remembered running through his family's vast estate, his small legs carrying him as fast as they could to reach his grandpa, who was always sitting on the porch, waiting with open arms. Grandpa's face would light up with a wide smile, and he'd lift Tristan high into the air as though he weighed nothing. They'd spend hours together, walking through the woods, listening to his grandpa's stories about the town, their family, and how important it was to stay connected to their roots.
Tristan's chest tightened as the memories flooded back. His grandfather had been his anchor, a guiding force in his life, someone who had always made everything feel right. But now, with his grandpa gone and the family fractured by unspoken words and hidden secrets, Tristan couldn't help but feel lost. The water continued to pour down on him, but the calm it brought was fleeting.
Tristan emerged from his room feeling slightly refreshed after his morning shower. The stress from the conversation with his father still lingered, but he pushed it aside as he caught the familiar smell of pancakes and bacon drifting from the kitchen. He smiled, knowing his mother had prepared his favorite breakfast.
As he entered the kitchen, his mother greeted him with a warm smile, setting a plate down at the table.
"Good morning, sweetheart. I thought you might need a little pick-me-up after everything."
Tristan sat down and gave his mother a grateful nod.
"Thanks, Mom. You always know what I need."
She took a seat across from him, her eyes full of concern.
"I talked to your father earlier. He mentioned you two had a bit of a tense conversation."
Tristan sighed, picking at his food.
"Yeah, we did. It's just... everything with the estate, Mom. I feel like there's so much he's not telling me. I don't want to push, but if the estate is in trouble, I want to help."
His mother reached across the table and placed her hand over his.
"I know, Tristan. Your dad's been under a lot of pressure lately, and he doesn't want to burden you with it. But you're right to be concerned. Maybe in time, he'll open up more. Just give him some space for now."
Tristan nodded slowly.
"I just wish I could do more."
Before his mother could respond, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught their attention. Tristan stood up and peeked out the window, recognizing Derek's father's car.
"Derek's here," he said. "I'll let him in."
Derek strolled into the house a minute later, looking groggy but eager for food.
"Hey, Mrs. Woods!" he called out, flashing his usual grin. "I heard rumors there were pancakes. Mind if I join?"
Tristan's mom chuckled, waving him over.
"Of course, Derek. Sit down and eat. You boys always have room for more."
Derek eagerly plopped down next to Tristan, grabbing a plate.
"You're a lifesaver, Mrs. Woods," he said through a mouthful of pancake. "So, Tristan," he continued, his tone shifting slightly as he looked over at his friend, "what happened after last night? You talk to your dad?"
Tristan sighed, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.
"Yeah," he muttered, "and it didn't go well."
Derek raised an eyebrow, glancing between Tristan and his mother, sensing this might be a conversation better suited for just the two of them.
"Mrs. Woods," he said, standing up and grabbing his plate, "I think we'll take this to-go. Thanks again for breakfast!"
Tristan's mom smiled.
"Of course. You boys stay out of trouble."
Once they were outside and settled in the car, Tristan filled Derek in on his conversation with his father as they drove toward the college.
"So, I asked him about my grandfather," Tristan said, staring at the road ahead, "and, as expected, he completely shut me down. He didn't want to talk about it at all. He just kept saying he'd handle the estate and that I shouldn't worry about it."
Derek leaned back in the passenger seat, processing everything Tristan had just said.
"Typical," he said after a moment. "Your dad's always been tight-lipped about family stuff. So, what are you going to do now? Just drop it?"
Tristan glanced at him, shaking his head.
"No, I can't just drop it, Derek. The estate is in trouble, and my dad's not telling me the whole story. If there's even a chance that my grandfather could help... I need to find him. I need to figure out what happened between them."
Derek looked out the window, then back at Tristan.
"Alright, but how do we even start? I mean, your dad's obviously not going to tell you where your grandfather is. Do you even know if he's still alive?"
Tristan shrugged.
"I don't know. Last I heard, he was living somewhere far off, but I have no idea where. I'll have to start digging into it. Maybe there's something in the estate records, old correspondence... anything that can give me a clue."
Derek nodded, deep in thought.
"You're going to need more than that, man. If you really want to figure this out, we're going to have to get serious about this. I say we split up. You start looking through whatever records you can find, and I'll see if I can dig up anything on the web or around town. Maybe someone knows something."
Tristan gave a half-smile.
"You really think it's that simple?"
Derek shrugged.
"You never know. Small towns like ours, people talk. Your grandfather was a big name around here. Someone's bound to know something, even if it's just rumors."
They drove in silence for a few moments, the weight of the task ahead of them settling in. Tristan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, his mind racing.
"I just can't shake the feeling that whatever happened between my dad and my grandfather... it's bigger than just a family argument. There's something more to it. And if I don't figure it out soon, we could lose everything."
Derek leaned forward, resting his arms on the dashboard.
"Look, man, whatever it is, we'll figure it out. But we also need to keep our heads straight. We still have classes and college stuff coming up. Christmas is around the corner, and we're going to be knee-deep in preparation for that."
Tristan groaned.
"I forgot about Christmas."
Derek chuckled.
"How could you forget? You're on the event committee, dude. You're basically responsible for making sure the whole thing doesn't crash and burn."
Tristan sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, I know. It's just... this whole thing with my family has been consuming my thoughts. I don't know if I can juggle everything."
Derek grinned, slapping Tristan on the shoulder.
"That's what I'm here for, man. We'll balance it. We'll handle Christmas, we'll figure out your family drama, and we'll still make time to get completely wasted at the party."
Tristan chuckled despite himself.
"You're a terrible influence, you know that?"
Derek raised his hands in mock innocence.
"Hey, I'm just saying we can't let all this stress get to us. We've got to let off some steam. But, in all seriousness, we'll figure this out one step at a time. First, Christmas prep. Then, we'll dig into your grandfather's mystery."
Tristan took a deep breath, nodding.
"Alright. Christmas first. But after that, we dive into the past."
Derek's expression grew serious for a moment.
"I've got your back, Tristan. Whatever this thing is with your family, we'll get to the bottom of it."
Tristan smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude.
"Thanks, man. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Derek grinned, slouching back in the seat.
"You'd probably crash and burn, to be honest."
Tristan rolled his eyes as they pulled into the college parking lot.
"You're not wrong."
They parked the car and got out, walking toward the main campus building. Students bustled around them, chattering about the upcoming holiday break and the Christmas events. The festive decorations were already starting to appear around campus—twinkling lights, wreaths, and a massive Christmas tree in the quad.
Tristan paused for a moment, taking it all in. For a brief second, the stress of his family's estate faded into the background. He could almost let himself enjoy the holiday spirit.
Almost.
"Alright," Derek said, clapping his hands together. "Let's knock out some planning for Christmas before we dive headfirst into family mysteries."
Tristan smirked.
"Fine. But don't think for a second I'm letting you slack off on this."
Derek winked.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
As they walked into the building, Tristan felt a strange mixture of emotions—anticipation, worry, and a bit of excitement. The holidays were coming, but so were answers.
And he was ready for both.