Feature Story:

The Family Business

By Josiah Vann

One might describe it as a leap, jumping from one season of life into another. The semester was ending, just a few days shy of summer vacation. High school would be no more. It might be a chapter Andrew would look back upon later in life and reminisce about his choices. As he walked down the sidewalk of the crowded New York streets toward his home, Andrew could not help but fidget with his hands. With every step, he grew closer, the more weight he felt in his chest. Not a sound of the noisy street could drown out the beating of his heart. But there was one – a sudden sound, a ringing, set to a familiar tone.

Andrew drew his phone from his pocket and answered without a beat.

"Hello?" Andrew answered.

"Hey, where are you?" an older voice carried through the speaker.

"Atlas! Did you guys make it in?" Andrew asked his older brother.

"Yeah, we’re at Mom and Dad's a few moments ago. You didn't get lost on your way back, did you?"

Andrew replied, "N-no, no. I'm walking back now. Practice went a little late, but I was able to get a recording a couple days ago. Danielle was able to get a disc for me."

"Do you have it with you?"

"Yeah, it's in my bag."

"I can't wait to see it! I'll see you soon."

The phone call ended. Andrew was just a block away from home, and for a moment, that simple phone call made a slight difference. He kept his hands at his side and walked more casually to the bottom of the steps before the front door. You can do this. You can do this, he thought. At that moment, turning the knob was easy, but then the door was open, and it became hard to breathe, harder than before.

Andrew's father, Antonio, was at the end of the stairs inside the home laughing with Atlas and Rebecca. Perhaps it was one of Antonio's jokes he loved to tell. He, as a Marinos, took pride in that and his job at the restaurant that his father and grandfather started years ago. It became an everlasting passion project after coming to America from Greece shortly after the first war in Europe. Even Antonio and Laila followed in the family business – O Marinos Gyros.

"There he is!" Antonio says, lifting his glass of red wine toward Andrew.

You're dead, Andrew. You can't do this, Andrew thought to himself once more.

Antonio stood tall with his sophistication and a handsome grin plastered on his face, a prideful beam. He had grown to love the life he had built with the weight of his family's legacy on his back that he now planned to pass onward like a token of memory.

Atlas went to embrace his brother. It had been nearly two months since the two had seen each other.

"I was just asking Atlas about the grand opening," Antonio said, "the one in Upper West Side."

"Oh, right! I forgot we were expanding," Andrew exclaimed.

"Finally expanding, I should say," Atlas withdrew as he turned again to his father, "this will be good for the family."

"This would be a good opportunity for you and Andrew. But we can talk it over later," Antonio walked toward the kitchen, "I will see where we are with dinner."

"It's nice to have a day off, huh?" Atlas chuckled to Andrew as he and Rebecca walked into the living room. "It's not every day you can run a business and confidently leave it in someone else's hands for a day."

"No, I suppose not," Andrew replied as he followed them into the living room.

The living room was on the left side of the home. It mainly was a wide area with plenty of space, even with furniture. The family portraits were along the wall. Pictures of Antonio and Margaret in the first years of marriage were placed on the exterior. Following those on the left were photos of a young Atlas until the near-present day, with the most recent of his being his wedding day kissing Rebecca as guests were presented with Mr. and Mrs. Atlas Marinos. Laila's photos took the upper middle portion of the wall and in the center was her graduation photo. Andrew's photos completely took over the right side of the wall, but there was room for more. One of the more noticeable photos was a photo of Antonio throwing a baseball toward a young Andrew with his glove open. It was one of Andrew's favorite childhood memories – playing catch in the backyard of his grandparent's house in Scranton, Pennsylvania. In the center of the entire photo album was a picture larger than the others on the wall of the whole family dressed in white visiting their family's homeland of Greece during Atlas and Rebecca's honeymoon. The wall had always been important in the family, especially to Antonio.

Atlas and Rebecca sat together on the couch adjoining where Andrew sat. On the other side of the adjoining couch was an end table with an old and well-preserved balance scale engraved with the Marinos name, once belonging to Timon Marinos, Antonio's grandfather. It sat perfectly balanced on the end table and had never been moved.

"How was practice, Andrew? Atlas has been telling me you're in the theater," Rebecca placed her glass on the coffee table, "What is it about?"

"He brought us a disc," Atlas added, "What? It's some Shakespeare tragedy, I believe."

"King Lear," Andrew said with a smile, "And I am playing the king himself."

"That's wonderful!" Rebecca said.

"Here, let me give you the disc," Andrew reached in his bag and pulled out the disc, handing it to Atlas, "I know you guys might not make it to opening night with, you know, you have your hands full in the Upper West Side."

"This is the entire thing?" Atlas asked as he took it from Andrew's hand.

"The whole thing from beginning to end," Andrew stated.

"Thanks. I'll give this a viewing if I can't make it. But I will do my best!"

A sudden comforting aroma in the living room carried throughout the house. Such a smell came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of plates ringing as they were placed on the table beside the silverware. The smell indicated a warm aroma of baked bread, pita seasoned with extra virgin olive oil and made to perfection with a soft, flat surface made with a special pocket inside. And another! The smell of basmati rice, specially seasoned with Antonio's secret ingredient. But overwhelming it all were the seasoned lamb and potatoes.

Antonio finally came around the corner with the stunning announcement, "Dinner is ready!"

As they came to the table, Margaret placed down the bowl of rice. Steam rose from the platters of food, carrying the scent of exquisite dinner set before them. They sat at the table, ready to eat, as Laila came down the stairs to join them.

"No one even bothered to come to get me," she snickered, pulling the chair out from under the table.

"Come now, don't take it personally. We would save you some leftovers," Antonio chuckled as he sat down. Everyone settled at the table and started feasting at the meal prepared.

"What are we even celebrating, anyway? I thought today we were going into the restaurant," said Laila, "I needed the extra cash for a dress I saw in the window on Madison Ave."

"Well, it is a double celebration!" Margaret implied, "Andrew will be graduating soon, and Atlas is reporting a strong grand opening."

"It went very well! Gustav and I handled it, and he's handled it pretty well since then. It's just been a couple days, but he insisted I come and dine with you all tonight," Atlas replied.

"And once Andrew has finished school, he'll help work there with Atlas," Antonio raised his glass before taking a sip and continuing to eat.

"I'm- I’m looking forward to that. I was also m-maybe thinking of getting myself involved in a summer program” Andrew paused, “Or a local theater," Andrew said.

"Oh, yes! When is your performance?" Margaret asked.

"Well, tomorrow is our final practice before we start performing Friday," Andrew replied, "After the weekend, after graduation, I guess I'm going to the Upper West Side to work."

"After graduation, of course. Atlas is going to need all of the help he can get. It's practically second nature to you," Antonio replied.

"We can talk about this later, dear," Margaret interrupted.

"Yes, of course," said Antonio, "The good news is the family business is expanding. Papa would be proud."

"What if—Wh- What if I want to go in a different direction?" Andrew said, stuttering his words.

"How do you mean, son?"

"What if I don't want to go into the family business?" Did I just say that out loud?

"What?!" Antonio's words pierced the atmosphere. His cold and confused gaze fell onto Andrew. It was far from a glare but still intimidating.

Yeah, I said it, Andrew thought to himself.

"I mean, not forever. I love the family. I love the business, but—"

"But what, Andrew?" Antonio interrupted.

"Darling," Margaret tried to intervene.

"This has been our legacy! Your great-grandfather, my grandfather, started this business, and it has been all you have ever known! And you want to abandon it?"

"No, Dad. I just have other interests. I—"

"Other interests?"

"Dad," Atlas also attempted to intervene.

"I just want to pursue something else for my future," said Andrew.

"Antonio, let it alone," Margaret interjected again, "Don't let this upset you. We are a family. This is a family dinner."

Is it? Antonio thought to himself. Nevertheless, he complied.

“You're right, my love," Antonio said to Margaret, pulling himself back from his emotions. But one could tell the distasting disapproval and disappointment in his voice – almost a stern disappointment.

Dinner was quiet for a while. No one would dare say anything that might upset Antonio more than once. No one had dared to try. He always carried himself to demand respect that would even intimidate a politician. Perhaps, that is why the business had expanded so vigorously since he took charge and began to raise a family to herald its ongoing legacy.

Long after dinner, the family had gone to bed, and Antonio stood in the living room alone, staring at the photographs on the wall. All Antonio could do was ponder on them as if to relive the moment in the time that each was taken, reliving memory's past, reliving the building up of his fragment of the legacy.

"Antonio?" a voice called out from behind.

He turned and saw Margaret standing a few feet from him. She stepped closer to him and took him by the hand.

"Come to bed. Don't worry about this right now," she pleaded.

"Worry? You think I am worried? I don't worry. I wonder. I wonder where I went wrong. Andrew shows no interest in the family business, and Laila spends more money than she makes. Atlas must be the only one who wants to be part of this," Antonio replied as he let go of her hand and walked back toward the wall of photos.

"Why is this important to you?"

"Family is everything to me, Margaret! All my grandfather had before he had O Marinos Gyros was his family. Everything he built, everything my father built was for the family," Antonio's voice carried throughout the house.

"Keep your voice down! They're trying to sleep."

"They can sleep just fine. I can't sleep! I work for this family and everything this family has built. I keep it going, and now it's all falling apart!" Antonio exclaimed as he waved his arms around in a fit of frustration. As he did so, the balance scale was knocked to one side. Antonio saw the scale and remembered Timon's patience. He remembered how his grandfather was slow to lose his temper, something Antonio had never learned to master. At that, however, Antonio calmed himself.

"It's not falling apart. Just come to bed. Why worry what you cannot understand right now?" Margaret asked.

Hearing her words, he agreed, and the two went up to bed.

It was the next day, Thursday. As Antonio walked from the kitchen and into the living room, Andrew had made his way down the stairs. Their paths crossed.

"Dad, I didn't mean to upset you," Andrew said.

"Son, I have to admit I am a little surprised at you," Antonio replied, "I thought this was what you wanted."

"I love the business. But it's not my path."

"I don't understand, then. Why do you want to pursue something else? Doesn't the family mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does! I'm just not sure I want this to be my entire life like you've made it."

"I kept the tradition going. For us. For you."

"Business isn't tradition, Dad. I've got to go before I'm late," Andrew walked out the door on his way to school.

Antonio walked back into the living room without saying a word and saw the scale was still out of balance. He suddenly heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, almost in a rush. Atlas went to the bottom of the stairs holding the disc.

"Is he gone? I was hoping to give this back to him," said Atlas.

"What is that?" Antonio asked.

"That's Andrew's performance in the play. You should sit down and watch. He did a great job! He's got a talent for it, Dad."

Antonio withdrew again toward the wall, but instead, he sat down on the couch. Atlas sat nearby on the adjourning couch by the window.

"What did I do wrong with Andrew?" Antonio asked.

"You're still worried about what happened last night?" Atlas asked.

"I just don't understand it. You turned out fine. Laila, I don't know if her heart is in it. And now Andrew—"

"Dad, everything built up to this point took three generations to do it. One generation is not going to tear it all down. I promise."

"My father wanted this to go on and on for years."

"And it has."

"Atlas, you don't know what my grandfather and my father did to—"

"No, I don't. Dad, I think you're missing something here. I know family is important to you. Sticking together was what we've done best. And don't worry so much about Andrew. The truth is, I am part of the family business because I wanted to be. This is my life. Rebecca and I are very happy. We're blessed at what the family has given us and the hard work we've put in for ourselves. But that wasn't because you drilled into me about what family meant," Atlas paused for a moment until Antonio had looked in his direction. Their eyes met. "Andrew is more than capable of making his decisions. And it's okay that it's different than what you imagined."

Antonio looked down at his hands and nodded as if coming to grips with his dilemma.

Atlas placed the disc on the coffee table in front of Antonio. Shortly after, he stood up and walked over to the end table next to Antonio. "Andrew is family whether he's part of the business or not," he stated as he touched the balance scale, tipping it to one side, bringing it back to balance. "Sorry, that was really bothering me. O.C.D, am I right?"

Antonio grabbed the disc in front of him.

"Here's an irony: everything you do and have ever done has been for the family, but you struggle accepting family for its differences," said Atlas.

"How do I fix this?"

"You should be there opening night," Atlas replied.

"To his performance? Oh, I don't know."

"Are you saying no because you're stuck in your idea of tradition? Otherwise, would you not have gone to your son's performance anyway?"

Antonio held his head down, ashamed, at Atlas' words, but still, he was right. Antonio looked back at the disc in his hand. A smile slowly plastered itself across his face. *

Finally, it was opening night, and the crowds of people were coming in. Andrew pierced through the curtain backstage dressed as Lear. He could barely see through the curtain, but of the few people he could see, not one resembled his family. But there was no time to think about that right now. Andrew had to prepare himself mentally for the performance.

Soon enough, the curtains opened, and the play had begun. Three other students walked out onto the stage as Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund. Each spoke their lines, and shortly after that came the sound of the trumpets, signaling the entrance of Andrew's King Lear.

"The king is coming," said the student playing Gloucester.

At this signal, Andrew walked onto the stage, thoroughly into character.

"Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester," said Andrew. As soon as Gloucester's actor had begun to leave the audience's view, Andrew caught a glimpse of a familiar face sitting amongst the strangers of the crowd. It was a tall, sophisticated man with his signature grin plastered on his face, but it was different. His grin was not unlike his typical grin, but enough to notice a slight difference. Instead of polite respect glowing from this man's face, it was a sign of acceptance pushing itself toward approval, a sign that only a son would catch on the face of his father. Antonio sat next to his wife, Margaret. On the other side of Antonio were Atlas and Rebecca, showing their support. Atlas gave a wink. And the show went on.

Andrew continued with his performance, slightly out of character. He recognized the next line mirrored himself, a chosen path of passion in a life he loved, saying, "In the meantime, I'll get down to my real business."

That's my son, a Marinos, Antonio thought to himself.

The play continued. The inheritance of Lear's kingdom had been split evenly among the two wicked sisters leaving out Cordelia. She could not put into words the amount of love she could have expressed for her father. On and on, the play continued until its finale.

"And my poor fool is hanged," Andrew spoke his final lines before his character's death, "Do you see this? Look on her. Look, her lips. Look there, look there." Andrew faded into his character's demise. The king was dead.

The student who played Edgar gave the final lines, ending the play.

The curtain closed, which was soon met with applause. Antonio stood up amongst the crowd clapping his hands loud and proud. The lights overhead began to shine brighter as the curtains rolled open revealing trails of tears that had coursed down Antonio's face.

As the actors gave their bows, Andrew saw his father among the standing few. But the few mattered little. All he saw was his father, who stood prouder than anyone. Andrew bowed one last time, and as he did, he let out a whisper. "Thank you," he said.

Antonio was proud that he raised one to be part of a world where the choice could be given an opportunity and not be stolen or locked away.