Chapter 16 - Sunday Dinner
David cooked Anna’s lasagna.
It tasted wrong.
Lucas knew on the first bite.
“Too much oregano.”
David looked offended.
“Your mother used this much.”
“She absolutely did not.”
“You were eight.”
“I had taste buds.”
Mara sat between them at the table because both father and son had quietly decided a third person would make the first dinner easier.
David tasted the lasagna.
“Maybe slightly aggressive oregano.”
Mara laughed.
For ten minutes, nothing important happened.
Lucas had missed that more than he expected.
David asked about soccer.
Mara complained about parking at her building.
Lucas described Mason’s terrible attempt to present a science project without note cards.
Then silence settled.
Not dangerous.
Just waiting.
David finally said, “The company board made its decision.”
Lucas put down his fork.
“You’re fired?”
“Removed as chief executive.”
His stomach dropped.
“Oh.”
“I keep my ownership stake, but Lydia is becoming interim CEO.”
“Lydia?”
“Yes.”
“She testified against you.”
“She told the truth.”
Lucas looked at him.
David said it without bitterness.
That mattered.
“Are you mad?”
“At her?”
“Yes.”
“I was.”
“And now?”
David thought.
“I’m embarrassed she showed more loyalty to the company’s values than I did.”
Mara looked impressed.
“Therapy is expensive, but apparently effective.”
David gave her a look.
Lucas almost smiled.
“What will you do?”
“I don’t know.”
That was new.
David had always known.
Or pretended.
“Consult eventually. Maybe teach editing.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
“To children?”
“Perhaps not immediately.”
They laughed.
Then David became serious.
“I sold some shares.”
“Why?”
“To cover legal costs and the settlement without damaging payroll.”
Lucas felt relief.
“So employees are okay?”
“For now.”
“You told me everyone could lose their jobs.”
“I know.”
David folded his napkin.
“I used the biggest possible consequence because I wanted you frightened enough to cooperate.”
Lucas stared at him.
Hearing the manipulation named plainly was strange.
“You knew?”
“Some part of me did.”
“Then why?”
“Because fear works quickly.”
Nobody spoke.
David looked ashamed.
“I learned that in campaigns. Business negotiations. Crisis management.”
He looked at Lucas.
“I brought it home.”
Mara said quietly, “Dad used to do that.”
David’s expression tightened.
Their father, Lucas’s grandfather, had died when Lucas was six.
“What?”
Lucas asked.
Mara looked at David.
He nodded reluctantly.
“If we disappointed him,” Mara said, “he’d describe the worst thing that could happen because of us.”
David stared at his plate.
“Bad grade meant no college. Missed chore meant we’d become irresponsible adults. Arguing meant we’d destroy the family.”
Lucas looked at his father.
“You hated that.”
“Yes.”
“But you did it to me.”
“Yes.”
The answer came softly.
No defense.
Lucas looked down.
Patterns did not excuse anyone.
But they explained how people repeated what they once swore they hated.
After dinner, David showed Lucas the study.
The external hard drive was gone.
The workstation remained.
On the desk sat the framed beach photograph of Anna.
David had moved it there.
“I almost destroyed the computer,” he said.
“Why?”
“Drama.”
Lucas laughed unexpectedly.
David smiled.
“Your aunt stopped me.”
“Good.”
“I wanted to turn the whole thing into a moment where I became a different person.”
Lucas looked at him.
“And?”
“Apparently becoming different is mostly boring.”
“Like what?”
“Not checking your phone location every twenty minutes.”
Lucas stared.
“You did that?”
David winced.
“Bad example.”
“Dad.”
“I stopped.”
Lucas tried to be angry.
Instead he laughed.
David laughed too.
Then both became quiet.
Lucas walked toward the editing desk.
“Can you show me how you changed it?”
David froze.
“The video?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I want to understand.”
David hesitated.
“I don’t know if that’s good for you.”
Lucas almost smiled.
“That sounded like asking instead of deciding.”
David nodded.
“Would you like me to show you?”
“Yes.”
David opened a duplicate training project containing no student identities, recreated with colored blocks and sample audio.
He demonstrated ripple edits.
Cropping.
Audio splicing.
Noise reduction.
How half a second removed before a sentence could change whether it sounded responsive or aggressive.
Lucas watched.
“These tools aren’t bad.”
“No.”
“You are.”
David looked at him.
Lucas panicked.
“I mean what you did was bad.”
David smiled sadly.
“I understood.”
They worked for thirty minutes.
At the end, David showed him the waveform.
“Editing always removes something.”
“So how do you know what’s okay?”
“Purpose matters. Consent matters. Accuracy matters.”
He paused.
“And the editor has to be willing to show what was removed if the claim depends on context.”
Lucas thought of Claire.
Who created this?
What was removed?
Who benefits?
Before leaving, Lucas stood at the front door.
David asked, “Do you want to stay tonight?”
Lucas hesitated.
“No.”
Pain flickered across David’s face.
But he nodded.
“Okay.”
Lucas waited for persuasion.
None came.
“I’ll come again next Sunday.”
David smiled.
“I’d like that.”
Mara drove Lucas home.
Halfway there, Lucas realized something.
His father had heard no and survived it.
May you like
So had Lucas.
A relationship once built partly on obedience had just made room for choice.
