“Because that’s your title.” I shook my head.
As Clay walked into the room, we all got to work. Montgomery Builders was now in session. Montgomery Inc. was down in Denver, along with Montgomery Ink. The one with the K was a tattoo shop that some of my Denver cousins ran. Another tattoo shop called Montgomery Ink Too was located in Colorado Springs. I figured once the next generation of Montgomerys aged, they would probably start popping up new Montgomery Inks and Incs all over the state and world. It would be nice. However, our family was none of that. We were Montgomery Builders, something that came from my dad’s Montgomery side, not my mother’s. When my parents got married, the family joke was that it was nice that my mother didn’t have to bother changing her name. They were not blood-related or cousins, even fifth removed. At least from what they could tell. But the union was still rife with family tension. My father did not like his brothers-in-law—my uncles.
Therefore, he did not like that there was another construction company in the family. Montgomery Builders did not work with Montgomery Inc., and had nothing to do with my uncle—or now my cousins—who ran it.
And that was all due to my father. I loved the man, but he could be a righteous asshole sometimes. Okay, most of the time. And since he was currently taking over the meeting during this project, this was one of those times. Officially, my mother and father didn’t have roles with Montgomery Builders. They oversaw everything we did and held the purse strings, but they’d handed the reins to us over time as we grew into our roles. We could have gone into any other field, but all of us had fallen in love with the family business and had followed our goals towards being part of it.
I was an architect and helped design every single project we worked on. Benjamin was our landscape architect and had a whole team for himself. Paige was our office manager and pretty much kept us running—and on our toes—while Archer, much to my father’s dismay, was our lead plumber. Dad had wanted my brother to be an electrician or maybe an architect or something, but Archer wanted to be a plumber. And that was what he had ended up going to school for, and what he worked his ass off doing now. Beckett was our construction project manager and currently butting heads with my father on yet another item.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “We’ve already decided what we’re doing on this line item,” I said. “Beckett’s right.”
Beckett gave me a tight nod, and I looked at my dad, trying not to wince. One did not argue with Russell Montgomery. But I was doing so. We were adults here, and my parents would simply have to learn to deal with their kids being in charge. Or back off. I hoped they’d retire soon, because we could not keep doing this.
Though I wasn’t sure how we would get them to do that.
“I’m just saying. It would make more sense to do it this way.” My father started outlining a whole new plan that would radically shift how we worked towards green materials and stayed on target. I shook my head. “No, we’re trying to go into the new world. Global warming is an issue. We’re trying not to build to the point where we hurt our ecosystem. Plus, we’re in Colorado. We may not be in Boulder where they’re completely crunchy granola, but those in Fort Collins can hold our own.”
“I don’t understand you Millennials,” Dad grumbled.
“I think I might be a Xennial,” Paige said, looking up from her notes.
I winced. “Not the time, Paige.”
“That’s true,” she said, going back to her tablet.
“Fine, do it your way. But just remember, our name is on everything we do.”
“We know,” Beckett said, and Benjamin leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.
“This is a big project,” my father repeated, and I rolled my shoulders back. “If we don’t get this right, we’re not getting bids for anything else in the city. If this is the project you want to put your new twist on within the operation, then it needs to be perfect. Any errors or mishaps will ruin the company and this family.”
My mother nodded as if they weren’t cutting down their children with their high expectations. We should have been used to it by now, but it still wasn’t easy.
Our parents loved us. They just enjoyed the competition with my mother’s siblings more. They wanted to do things their way, and while their way had made our family what it was, and was perfectly reasonable and sustainable, my siblings and I knew we needed to change a few things to help keep us healthy, relevant, and helpful.
And, deep down, I knew it wasn’t the fact that we wanted to change things. No, it was the fact that my cousins down in Denver were doing the same things. We had all come together and decided to work towards a better future for our community and our families.
And my father wanted nothing to do with that or them.
“Okay, that’s good for now,” my mother said, tapping my dad’s knee. He looked at her, gave a tight nod, and stood.
My mother loved her brothers, but she loved her husband more. So, she was constantly engaged in a tug of war between them. And while I understood, it was exhausting being in the middle, especially when you were a child and didn’t want to be part of any of it at all.
Dad looked at each of us. “Okay, get it done. Montgomerys forever.”
We nodded, though refrained from saying it back. The rest of the Montgomerys had a special tattoo, a family motto of sorts called the Montgomery Iris, a little M and I surrounded by a circle and flowers. My siblings and I had those tattoos in secret, mostly because if my father ever found out, he would probably disown us. The other cousins had gotten them, too, all taken care of and inked by one of the three tattoo artists in the family.
Mine was on my hip, where no one could see it unless I took off my bathing suit. And I would not be showing anyone that flesh anytime soon, thank you very much.
We had wanted to show solidarity with the whole set of Montgomerys, ignoring my dad’s rage. Therefore, we did not say “Montgomerys forever,” because we knew he wasn’t talking about the other half of us.
It was such a strange way to live, but we were so used to it after all these years, it rarely even fazed us. However, my dad was right, this project was massive, and if we failed at it, we could put the business in the red. It was a different time for our company, and we understood it. All of us did. We worked hard to make sure that we were doing things the right way and safely. Though, sometimes, my dad made things a little more complicated.
Paige and Clay left with notes, Beckett trailing them as he went over what they were doing for the day. Archer smiled at me, waved, and then went off to his project site for the day. I looked down at my notes, knowing I needed to get some sketching in before I went to one of the sites. I looked up at Benjamin. He smiled at me, and I frowned.
“What?” I asked.
“I know today was your day to have the meeting in your office rather than in one of the main rooms, but I wanted to say we’re going to be okay. We’ve got this.”
We rotated where we had the meetings, ensuring that each of our offices ended up being the corporate head office at times, even if only in our heads. Sometimes, we met in the main meeting room, but we liked to change it up because it helped us creatively. At least, that’s what we told ourselves. I just thought we liked moving around to annoy my dad—not that I would tell him that.