Like Father Like Son

"I'm not going to take it."

"It's not your choice to make, Mace. I'm dying."

Mace glanced down at his now meager plate of food. The crumbs were little more than the size of dust particles and he relished the taste of every single one of them. Across from him his father steepled his fingers in his direction. 

"You and your mother have been struggling for a long time."

"Yeah, and I wonder who's fault is that," Mace retorted with venom. Still, his eyes traced the hemisphere of his father's plate with obvious hunger. 

His father noticed immediately, a banal smile spread across his mulish mouth like a predator's leer. He pushed his plate across and unable to help himself, Mace devoured every last bit of the steak and rice. "I'm offering you something that could change your life. I know I've been a little absent but-"

"A little absent?!" Mace spat. "You up and abandoned us to chase your juvenile whims while my mother and I got evicted from our apartment. Several times. You never once paid child support and you mean to tell me you sat on a quarter million dollars this whole time?"

"Mace-" his father's cheeks were growing red though if it was from anger or embarrassment at having everyone in the restaurant's attention, Mace could not tell. Both, probably. 

In his fury he threw the plate off the table. It clattered to the ground sullenly, ringing it's sad symphony like a hollow bell. 

"I always knew I would return Mace. I wanted to write to you several times. Really, I did. Don't look at me like that. I always loved you and I still do."

"I don't want your food." Mace stood up as a waiter came rushing to pick up the debris of the expensive plate that cost more than anything Mace owned. "And I don't want your money."

Mace gave an apologetic expression to the wiater and offered to pay for the damages. His father's eyebrows burrowed over his eyes.

"I understand. Will you at least attend my death bed? Please, I know I don't deserve it, I was incredibly happy to find out you even agreed to meet me here for lunch. But it would mean a great lot to me-"

"No."

"Now Mace-"

"You heard what I said. You'll rot surrounded by your riches and no family or friends. I've had enough of you."

Mace left the building, satisfied with himself. He could feel the pressure ebb away from his shoulders like thistledown in the wind.  It would all be over soon. 

The days went by at the time speed of honey trickling down tree bark. Mace continued his routine of working his job at the diner and heading home to his tired mother. By the time he hit his bed the darkest hour of the night had already come and Mace was left alone to the solitude of his thoughts. 

The dark seemed to consume him from every direction but he welcomed its embrace like a long lost friend. A number of things began to make sense, why despite it all, his superficial aunts and uncles had been so unnervingly nice to him growing up. They'd seen the dollar sign over his head and acted accordingly. Now he was eighteen with a critically ill father and about to inherit all his fortunes. He wondered if he should just donate it to local charities, regardless, Mace sworn to never spend a single dime on himself. 

The next day while working vigorously on wiping down a table, apron clasped tight around his waist and gloved hands scaling across the sleek surface, Mace heard a familiar voice call behind him. 

"Mace, I apologize for my behaviour last week. And my poorly spoken choice of words." 

Mace merely gave a curt nod before turning around to continue his job. "I'm working right now. You can't bother me."

"I won't be here long. I'm saying goodbye. I truly am sorry son."

When Mace turned back around his father was gone. Good riddance, Mace thought and continued to work. 

A month's time passed and Mace had heard new of his father's death through a family friend. There was a short funeral, one no one attended.

Mace was watering the plants on the balcony when he got the call.

"Hello Mace, I am Dawson Lawrence I was you're father's lawyers there are a few things your father and I discussed before his death that could be beneficial to you and your mother. He's left a lot in your name. If you don't claim it, it shall go to your aunts and uncles. If you're interested we can set up a date."

"I'm not interested."

"But-"

"Didn't you hear me? I want nothing to do with that man."

"Consider this, Mace, while I have no clue about how you may be feeling I can garner it's nothing good. I understand you and your father were estranged and if you really don't want your inheritance that is perfectly fine. However I know one thing's certain and that is that out of all people to wind up with it I know your father would be disappointed if it were his siblings who took his life fortunes. Now, I've never met you personally, but you seem like a wise kid. I have met your relatives and they aren't the brightest or the kindest. They do a lot of bad things kid. They've killed to keep their power this far and your father provided for them and their violent inclinations in his life. Haven't you ever wondered where your father made this much money? He sold stuff to the wrong people. To kids like you at times, even."

Mace was rendered mute. Power? Money? They were all worthless to him. He'd initially known his father as poor as a child. It never crossed his mind he may have done some dirty handed business for a ticket out of poverty. 

"Your father's bloody legacy will continue if you let it fall into the wrong hands. You can put an end to it all. What do you say?"

Mace inhaled deeply and exhaled a whistling breath through his teeth. "Alright. I'm in."

"That's what I like to hear," Dawson's gravelly voice sounded confident. Mace could hear his smile.  "You and I have a long future ahead of us."