You Look Familiar

I fiddle with my cufflinks as I wait for the train to come to a complete stop. The woman sitting across from me hasn’t stopped staring at me the entire two-hour ride. I tried saying hello but she was like a statue. At first, I thought she was dead but she blinked every now and then. I remembered my manners and waited for her to exit the car before I gathered my things and followed suit. It was a little crowded as I stepped onto the subway but I didn’t mind. It wasn’t the people around me that I was nervous about.         

My mother told me that he would be located on the top floor of the tallest glass building. The aerospace building downtown. He was some bigshot now with a family. I’m not sure how my mother knew all this, but I didn’t question her. She had her ways of finding things out. I was set for an interview as an intern with the CFO of Langwood Aeronautics. It would be an almost- honest interview. I am in the job market for something in Finance having recently graduated with my master’s two years early in Accounting. My mom said I get it from my father.            

“Saul Perez to see Mr. Weston,” I smiled big for the receptionist but she didn’t return the gesture. She looked me up and down, from my shaggy hair combed back neat, to my fancy grey suit, down to my freshly polished brown shoes. She pressed a button on the phone and spoke into it briefly. Her bright red lipstick was striking so much that I couldn’t pull my eyes away. They moved but I didn’t hear anything she said. It wasn’t until she waved a hand in front of me, obscuring my view, that I snapped out of it. “Sorry, what?”

“Have a seat, he’ll be with you shortly.” She pointed to the two leather chairs against the far wall. I chose the one closest to the window and looked down at the tiny people hurrying across the street. It was quiet except for the receptionist’s voice answering the phone. She had a different tone for each person she knew it seemed. 

It was exactly forty-three minutes before I was called into Mr. Weston’s office. I know because I checked my wristwatch every minute. Forty-three times. Forty-three minutes. The receptionist said Mr. Weston would see me now and motioned for me to follow her. I followed her around the corner, down a long hallway filled with framed pictures of skyscrapers. Before I could fully check out the receptionist, we stopped at the end of the hallway at a single, solid black door with a silver plaque that read, D. Weston, CFO. The receptionist knocked twice and then opened the door with her hand still on the handle as she ushered me in. I entered and felt a small breeze as the door was closed behind me immediately.

The man that sat behind a sleek, silver desk was handsome. He wore a white button-down business shirt and striped tie that was tailored perfectly for his medium build. His hair was short and the color of a dark sand with a few grays around his temple. He was clean shaven with olive green eyes and spoke in a serious tone. “Mr. Perez, have a seat.” He pointed to the two silver chairs in front of his desk. I chose the one on the left and admired the view behind him. “What an amazing view,” I commented. He didn’t turn around to admire the neighboring skyscrapers. He’d probably seen it so many times he stopped looking. “Yes,” was all he said.

He was reading over my qualifications, studying every word. After a while, he looked up finally and said, “Well, you’re certainly a bright young man. You look familiar,” he paused for a moment, squinting at me. “What brings you to Langwood Aeronautics?” 

I smiled and stared at the same eyes I look at in the mirror every day. “I read that this is a great company to work for.”

“Yes, and?”

“and I’m Jig’s son.”

“and- pardon?” He tilted his head as if he didn’t hear me right.

“Have you ever seen white elephants?” I asked.

He understood that time. He cleared his throat and loosened his tie. It was a while before he spoke again. “I’m…not sure I understand. You’re Jig’s son?”

“Yes. And you are my father.” I calmly replied.

He was sweating now. “That’s not possible. Jig…she…she…how old are you?”

I told him and he fell back in his chair shaking his head. I noticed the frame of his family on his desk. “Is that your family?” I pointed to the frame. He nodded.

We sat there like that for a good long while. Him staring at the ceiling, then at me, then back at the ceiling. Finally he said, “How is…your mother?”

“She’s good. She sent me here.”

“I see.” He began to rub an imaginary beard. “Look, I uh…that was a long time ago. I have a family now.” He eyed me cautiously. I said nothing. He continued, “Is there uh…something I can do for you? Money or uh…something?” 

I smiled. Mom was right. He hadn’t really changed much. “No, I was just curious about my father. It was nice meeting you.” I smiled and left him sweating there in his fancy office.