Pastel Dreams || editing

twenty one - gratin dauphinois

gratin (n): A top crust consisting of bread crumbs or grated cheese mixed with butter and browned in the oven.

[here, gratin dauphinois is a gratin with potatoes]

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"LADIES, GENTLEMEN, FIRST AND FOREMOST, HAPPY NEW YEAR!" My father bellowed.

I softened at the sight of him center stage. Like every year, he had this presence, this authoritative stature that commanded attention effortlessly.

I had always wished to be as confident as him. I had always been closer to him than my mother. I had always looked up to him, asked him for guidance and put all my trust in him. It had honestly been difficult to look at him now when all I could think about was how he was forcing us into marriage.

My eyes stung, but I ignored them until I put on the facade. Crossing my ankles together, I calmed myself down.

All of the people present were about to listen to my father announcing his retirement.

"To start this New Year, it is important to look and celebrate the year that has truly flown by. We've opened our doors to more than 1 million guests, whether be business moguls seeking a quick night's rest, or just-married honeymooners, we've tried our best to be dedicated, thoughtful and conscious and welcoming. We've achieved this despite the challenges in our ever-changing world, and I thank you all for you for your hard work."

My father beamed at the amount of applause he was getting, and I couldn't help but smile at his warm grin and clap along with the other guests.

"However, it is time to look forward to our new year. To see where we can improve, what we can achieve to be even better. 'The measure of intelligence is the ability to change', said Albert Einstein. And that is why, dear friends, we must change too. It has been a pleasure and a gift to share this journey with you all. And truly, I am saddened to say this," my father paused, voice thickening with emotion.

The audience was hanging on to his every word, mesmerized as always, but shock seemed to be common on people's faces.

"I'm retiring, after creating this company, watching it grow, and flourish. It is important to stay positive, on the right path and to stay strong-willed during hard times. I leave my life's work in my daughter's very capable hands. Thank you."

His speech was greeted with roaring applause and I saw a few tears being shed.

"Nice speech, dad," I smiled up at him sincerely, later that afternoon, when he wasn't surrounded by flocks of people.

"Thank you, darling," seeming shocked that I was talking to him. I remarked how tired he looked up close. I had always known him with graying hair, but now it was completely white. I knew that his wrinkles have deepened, and despite his good looks, my mother said, he truly has aged.

"Congratulations, Ms. Greyson," peeped a gravelly voice, startling me slightly. Robert Gallagher, a board member, looked up at me. He sported a friendly smile like always, chubby cheeks always tinged with red, and a beer belly even though he liked to claim that champagne was all he drank.

"Thank you, Mr. Gallagher," I politely answered him.

"I hear you're getting married soon, eh?" He jabed my side playfully, with a wink. I swallowed the urge to grimace at him, but smile tightly instead.

"I am, yes," I answered.

I could feel my father's gaze boring holes into my cashmere sweater, and I resisted the urge to brush my sweaty palms on my crisp dress pants. Instead, I sipped my champagne, politely answering his questions.