Page 2 of Pressure

“I never said my grades were good!”

“It was certainly implied each time we asked how school was going.”

They never asked howIwas doing; it was always about school and how school was going for me. I walked toward the window and looked outside at the perfectly blue sky and tried to calm down.

“Cashman Montgomery Jameson, what do you have to say for yourself? You know your grandfather will hear about this.You better not be enrolled in any useless art courses; you know how your father and grandfather feel about anything to do with art.”

That put me over the edge. I’d had fucking enough of this shit.

“I don’t care!” I pinched the bridge of my nose while tightly closing my eyes. In my mind, I could picture the ice-cold blue eyes of my grandfather sternly stabbing me. No words would need to be spoken because his look would say it all.

“Cashman!”

“Mentally, I’m doing great, minus all the stress you and dad and everyone else in this family put on me! My grades are average, but I hate law school!” I blurted out. Saying it out loud to my mom seemed to take a weight off my shoulders.

“Perhaps those are average grades for students out at that artsy party school, but it’s not average for this family, nor is it expected of you. Your grandfather is paying for you to earn your degree in law and join the family firm.”

“It’s not a party school, Mom, and I hate studying law. I’m sorry to burst your bubble.”

“I can’t believe for a second you don’t like law school. Something else is going on, isn’t it?”

“No, Mom.”

“You grew up wanting to work where your grandfather and dad work.”

“Not really. I wanted to draw all of the time.”

“Cashman, you used to love going to the office with your father.”

“Yeah, because kids like hanging out with their dads and following them around. I wanted to make pictures for Grandpa to put on his office wall. But when I got a taste of the reality of what they did with all these stupid summer seminars and classes, it lost its luster. Now that I see what it is, I’m not into it.”

My mom totally didn’t listen to me and went off on another tangent. “Is it drugs? Oh my God, are you doing illegal drugs?”

“What? No!”

“Are you messing around with women?”

“Mom—”

“Are you messing around with men?”

“Mom!”

“Are you going to disappoint this family further by not giving your father and me another grandchild?”

I exhaled loudly, making sure my mom could hear my irritation. And really, I had no one to blame but myself. First, it was my fault I got shitty grades, and second, I was annoyed at myself for having decided to call home rather than text. I knew they’d be pissed, but this was crazy. It was also my fault for allowing them to steer me into law and try to douse my love for art.

“Anyhow, I just wanted to call and tell you before the school mailed the grade report home. Since I won’t be there this summer?—”

“Cashman, you absolutely need to come home this summer. Your grades are horrific, and you have no business going to Lake Tahoe for the summer.”

“Mom, I’m leaving for Tahoe in the morning,” I said firmly.

“Do you think there are some tutors in Los Angeles that we could arrange for you for the summer?”

“Mom! You’re not listening to me! I hate law school, and there’s no way in hell I’m wasting another summer studying to become something I don’t want to be.”

“Your father and grandfather were very kind and gracious to allow you to go to California and study nonsense social matters rather than corporate law. Andthisis how you repay them?”