Back To Where I've Never Been

Part 8

"It's so nice to meet you." He says softly, his voice low and comforting. I've just met the man but I can already feel myself relaxing around him. Grandmother has been nothing but kind to me since we met, but there is something extra calming about my grandfather. When we finally disentangle, she introduces him as her husband, David Stewart, and my grandfather. He smiles at me, seemingly unsurprised when she introduced me as his long-lost granddaughter. He smiles at me again before gesturing to the limo,

"Come on then, Vi. You've got some uncles to meet." I'm so mesmerized by his smile that I don't even think about what he said until we are already on the road. Uncles. I have more people to meet, a lot more actually. My hands begin to shake again, this time it's grandmother, who is sitting on my right, who notices. She doesn't say anything, just reaches over to hold my hand. The tremors stop immediately. I look up to give her a grateful smile, but she's looking out to window.

"This is our private airport, about 30 minutes from the city." Grandfather, no he told me to call him Pop since he's not yet ready to be a grandfather, explains.

"So close." I say, wondering how they got the permits to build a private airport, but then again rich people do all kinds of crazy things so what do I know?

"Our headquarters is in the city, near wall street actually." That takes me for surprise, I had thought it would be in one of the famous buildings like the Empire state or something. Pop is quick to explain,

"Your grandmother's company, Rodenheim Enterprises, is actually several companies. We needed the ability to expand so we bought an entire building years ago and have built up when needed." I nod, completely flabbergasted by this strange new world I'm being thrown into. But then I catch something he said,

"You don't work there?" It didn't escape me notice that he called it my grandmother's company. To my surprise, grandmother laughs, that beautiful guffaw that reminds me of the unique laugh my mother used to gift me with so often.

"Your Pop," She says the word with a hint of disdain, though I can tell it's teasing rather than true snobbery,

"Would not be caught dead in corporate America. He dislikes the business world almost as much as the business world dislikes him,"

"It was one project proposal, and it was nearly 40 years ago Christine!" He exclaims, his eyes alight with mock outrage. Grandmother smirks,

"And it was so truly awful. No, David never had the talent for business. His talents reside elsewhere." Now I am truly curious,

"And where would that be?" I press

"NYU, I am a professor in the Cultural Studies department." He says, grinning. I'm absolutely floored, culture studies? That's what I had hoped to major in, if given the chance. It isn't one of those majors that lends itself to a career, more for those going on to a masters or doctorate in another field but I have always wanted to study culture, both world and local subcultures. Communities and people fascinate me. When I tell Pop, he gets this gleam in his eye.

"Oh, you've done it now." Grandmother sighs. When I turn to look at her, she smiles

"Now that you've admitted to an interest in his field, he is never going to let you go to me. I had hoped you would work with me at Rodenheim." I can't hold back my cringe. Business? Acquisitions, mergers and board meetings? Not my cup of tea. Grandmother laughs again,

"Alright, I suppose it was just wishful thinking. I've got one son to take over, thank the Lord, since none of my other children seem interested." The mention of one of my uncles brings me back to our destination. I'm less nervous now than I was before, but I'm still anxious about meeting them.