Fathers and Law: Lom and Fah Book One

Chapter 19

Back home, Lom continued working for his father. It had never been his choice of work, but previously he enjoyed a fun personal life. His sorrow over losing Fah affected him throughout the day, every day.

"You're going to get killed, you do know that don't you?" Ton asked at breakfast one morning.

"I'm not going to get killed, I'll be fine," said Lom in the monotone that was his new normal.

"No, you're distracted. You think of Fah all the time and you're making little mistakes. Soon enough you're going to make a big mistake that will get you killed. Or worse, someone else. Will that make you, or Fah, happy?"

"Fah will never be happy with any of us after what we did to him," said Lom. He scowled at his father.

"Look, he received a home, food, schooling, uniforms... we gave him everything! He's the one who disrespected us. Don't try to make me or your mother feel guilty."

"Fine, we treated him like a king, and he walked away crying, never to speak to us again, because we're all such good people," Lom said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Lom! Enough. Stop talking about Fah. He's gone, it's over. Focus on your job, your family, and your family's business. If you plan on taking over when I step down, you need to start learning all aspects of the business now!"

"Fine, I will."

Lom went outside and lit a cigarette. Leaning against the wall to smoke, he once again wondered where Fah might be. This was now a daily ritual yet no new ideas came to him. Taking a last drag he threw the cigarette down and tamped it out with his foot. Jumping into his car he buzzed the gate and headed down the street, increasing his speed the whole time.

He met up with Bank, his work partner. They scanned the list of people to collect money from, hopped on the motorbikes they used for collections, and began their day.

By noon the sun was so hot Bank suggested they go to his apartment for lunch and to cool down. Once inside, Bank's wife brought them tall glasses of iced tea. Bank turned the air conditioner on full blast in the living room - a splurge for Bank, but Lada, his wife, couldn't stand the heat during her last trimester of pregnancy.

"Oh, Lada, you shouldn't be doing this. That baby is about to pop right out of you. You should let Bank do the serving!" Lom felt awkward watching Lada waddle back and forth to the kitchen, her belly sticking out so far Lom believed she would split open any minute.

Laughing, Bank said, "Lom, you don't know anything. She could be in the middle of giving birth and she would still push others out of the way to do the serving. She never wants anyone to say she isn't the perfect wife and hostess!"

"Bank, your friend is a gentleman, and you are wrong and should help! The problem is you never know where things are or where things go. Your help makes more work for me. Also, you think only of your stomach and take the biggest and best pieces instead of giving them to our guests."

The three laughed as Lada sat down on the sofa next to Bank. He put his arm around her and gently patted her belly.

"There he is Lom, my little Bank! Someday maybe he and little Lom will work together!" Bank's smile was almost as broad as his shoulders.

"Little Lom? Bank, I think you're forgetting something about me," said Lom.

"What? That you're gay? You can still use a surrogate or adopt. There's still hope for little Lom and Little Bank," he insisted, laughing out loud.

"I don't think so. Even if I did, by some miracle, become a father, I wouldn't let my child grow up in this business. I never had a choice; my last name made this my destiny. I don't want that for my kid." The three of them sat quietly, all of them focused on Lada's belly without saying it.