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Mcdonald, Chicago, 1950, And His Father's Life

Decent Essays
Chicago, 1950.

As Samuel sat opposite his intimidating father, he could not help but notice how much he had aged. At the age of 67, his father had aged gracefully. His once silky jet black hair was now tinged with grey. The map of wrinkles which aligned the sides of his eyes as he smirked every now and then were prominent. But of all these minor changes, there was one thing that remained the same: his eyes. The eyes that would glare into his soul as a teenager whenever Sam would be caught sneaking a girl out of his bedroom, smoking or fighting at school. His father had a skill of hiding his emotions and thoughts, one that he had tried so desperately to instil in his son from a young age.

Sitting across from his father sure did bring
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“And?”

Sam’s heart rate picked up. “What do you mean, “And?”

Johnny took his focus of his cigarette and stared his son in his eyes. “Make this easier on yourself, Sam.”

Sebastian watched as his father slowly stood up and leaned towards him.

“Do you honestly think that I don’t know about the conversations that go on in this family?”.

Sam didn’t even need to think about it. Of course his father knew about every single detail that went on in his life. He didn’t even need to tell him himself. Every now and then when his divorced mother would phone his father to demand a couple thousands off him, she would blab Sam’s business.

So how his father came to know of his plan to propose to his girlfriend shouldn’t have been a shock. Sam only wished that he could keep it a secret for a while.

“I’m going to propose. To Blair tonight.” Sam confessed.

Johnny let out an exasperated sigh as he turned to fix himself another drink. Sam noticed that his father poured a larger portion of alcohol into his glass this time.

“Why are you doing this to me, Sam?” Johnny asked in a casual tone.

Sam knew that his father didn’t exactly approve of his soon to be fiancé, and could never work out why.

“I’m doing this because I want to. Because I love her,” Sam said defensively.

Johnny looked at his son with an unreadable expression before concluding their conversation.

“Don’t fuckin’ do this to me Sam,” came his father’s Chicago accent. “You propose to that girl, and we’ve got
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