Chapter 14 - Dad Finally Told Katherine He Was Sorry
Dad invited both of us to dinner.
No Easter.
No holiday.
No extended family.
Just three adults.
He cooked badly.
Mom had always cooked.
Dad’s chicken was dry enough to qualify as building material.
Katherine laughed first.
Then I did.
For fifteen minutes, we almost felt normal.
Then Dad put down his fork.
“I owe both of you an apology.”
Katherine immediately looked suspicious.
I waited.
He turned to her first.
“I let you believe staying at Keller made you more important to me.”
Her eyes filled.
“I praised you for sacrificing things I should have encouraged you to build.”
She looked down.
“I needed you at the company because I was afraid without your mother.”
Silence.
“I turned that need into a future I never actually promised in writing but implied every day.”
Katherine began crying.
Dad continued.
“When I stopped believing you should run the company alone, I sold instead of telling you I had doubts.”
Her voice cracked.
“You humiliated me.”
“Yes.”
That answer mattered.
Then Dad turned to me.
“I did the opposite with you.”
“What?”
“I made your leaving sound like rejection because I was hurt.”
I swallowed.
“I dismissed your career because admitting you had built something without me made me feel unnecessary.”
That landed harder than I expected.
Then he said:
“When Northstar bid, I was proud.”
I looked down.
“You never told me.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“I’m stupid.”
Katherine laughed through tears.
For once, no one disagreed.
Then Dad said:
“I also should have told you what Katherine said about Clara.”
“Yes.”
“I kept hoping resentment would burn itself out.”
“It didn’t.”
“No.”
He looked at Katherine.
She nodded.
“No.”
Then Katherine said something I never expected.
“I owe Claire an apology too.”
I waited.
“Not for Easter. I already know that.”
She touched Mom’s orchid necklace.
“For making staying into a moral weapon.”
I said nothing.
She continued.
“I needed to believe leaving meant you cared less, because otherwise I had to ask whether I stayed because I was scared to build anything else.”
There.
Her real question.
Who was Katherine Keller without Keller Precision?
She didn’t know yet.
She had started consulting for two manufacturers.
Small engagements.
No title impressive enough for cocktail parties.
She liked the work.
Hated the uncertainty.
Good.
Growth often feels like loss before it feels like freedom.
Then she asked:
“Do you think Clara will ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
No argument.
No demand.
That was progress too.
Before leaving, Dad offered us one last toast.
“To no more family business.”
I raised my glass.
Katherine did too.
Then she smiled.
“You know Claire literally runs family business now.”
May you like
Dad groaned.
For the first time, the phrase made all three of us laugh.
