Kendall Roy
Intake information: Client is a 39 year old man seeking therapy for support in his relationship with his father. Client reports working in the family business, and experiencing conflict with his father related to business dealings and succession planning, which is rooted in deep-seated relationship dynamics. Client also reports conflict with siblings in regards to similar issues, as well as the use and possible abuse of drugs and alcohol. Client is divorced, with two young children, and Client reports some previous therapy experience with his family.
I’m sitting in my chair, ten minutes past the hour, wondering if my new client is going to show up, when suddenly the office door opens and Kendall Roy enters, wearing an expensive suit and sunglasses, which he removes and hands to a young woman trailing him, who carries two work bags and several phones.
Kendall is in mid-conversion. “Get Stewy oiled up, hint to Naomi that there’ll be a reach-out slash reach-around in the near-term short-term, and lock up Ichabod Crane before he pees his pants.”
The woman types quickly on one of the phones. “Got it. And Ichabod Crane is…”
“Greg the Egg. Come on Jess, I pay you to keep up with the nicknames.”
Kendall stops and acknowledges me. “You must be Phil.”
“That’s me,” I say. We shake hands, then Kendall checks his watch.
“I’m New York late, but I’m LA on time,” he says as he sits down on the couch across from me. “So, let’s do this! Let’s tie up my superego and beat it into submission, yeah?”
I’m about to respond when Jess breaks in, reading off one of the phones. “They’re saying 2pm Eastern, so we’ll have a one hour exclusive window with favored nations to shape the narrative before we go wide.”
“Love it. And I honesty don’t care which jet it is, but make sure it’s the big one. Now go sit in the corner while I get mind fucked.”
Kendall turns back to me. “Sorry, here I am walking into your office and already fucking shit up. But I’m here, ready to dive into the depths of my inner self.”
“I’m glad to see your enthusiasm, but traditionally the only people in the room during therapy are the therapist and the client,” I say, referring to Jess.
“Oh, don’t worry about her, she signed an iron-clad NDA. I actually own naming rights to her first born.”
Jess looks up from her phone, concerned. “What?”
“I’m afraid this is a sticking point for me,” I admit.
Kendall looks confused. “Okay, but, certainly you can make an exception here? I mean, I’m juggling billion dollar balls in an orgy of multi-tasking. I’ll double your fee. Triple it. Come on, what’s your number?”
I think for a moment, then: “Ten million dollars worth of deep in the money call options in Waystar Royco.”
Kendall thinks for a moment before erupting in laughter. Then he turns to Jess. “You heard the man, get the fuck out.”
Jess gathers her things, and reminds Kendall as she crosses out: “Just keep in mind we have a hard out, the chopper’s holding, and if we don’t—“
“Save it for future me, Jess,” says Kendall, waving her away.
Jess exits. I sit for a moment, appreciating the silence. Kendall pats his legs, nervous energy. “Alright, that’s better,” he says. “Always nice to have few minutes to focus completely on myself. Mental health is so very important nowadays. So. What do we do?”
“I saw in your intake paperwork that you have some previous therapy experience?” I ask.
“Yeah, but that was just a PR stunt with my dad and the sibs, trying to calm the market, we didn’t really get any emotional legwork done. That’s why I reached out to you. ‘Dude, Where’s My Car-tharsis?’ That’s right, I read your book. Well, I had Jess read it. She thought it was cute.”
I return the focus to Kendall. “And the primary reason for seeking therapy is your relationship with your father?”
“That’s right. Things are complicated between us in the immediate timeline, and there’s an even more complicated backstory. Like with most fathers and sons, especially ones whose companies have a forty percent share of the cable media market.”
Kendall becomes more serious as he talks about this topic. “There’s a classic love / hate thing happening here. I’m the first born son, I’m supposed to take over the family business, which is something the old man has always led me to believe would happen, but now I’m starting to think he’s been cock-teasing me this whole time, and he’ll never anoint me. Not while he’s alive, at least. And he’ll probably find a way to fuck me over from the grave.”
I take all this in, trying to decide where to explore. “Has your relationship always been so… antagonistic?”
“It feels like it. I mean, he was always prepping me to be his successor, so there was a feeling of acceptance. But the older I get, the more I think he sees me as his enemy. We’re clearly in Oedipus territory here. Which is actually a great story, Oedipus, I’m looking into optioning the rights. It might just be the case that I have to kill my father to give birth to my fully realized self. In the metaphorical sense, of course. And don’t worry, I have no desire to fuck my mom. Maybe a handjob. That’s not incest right? Is penetration a prerequisite?”
I ignore the shock value and continue. “Our relationships with our fathers can certainly be challenging. Especially for you, when you work together in the way you do. Is there any separation between the business relationship and the personal?”
“None. He is the company, and the company is him, and if you come between him and what he wants, it doesn’t matter if you’re a relative or the president, you’re getting fucked.”
I nod at this, writing it down in my notes, and then decide to pivot to another subject. “And, you said you have siblings?”
“Yes, two and a half. And believe me, this is the topic of every slumber party.”
“Are their relationships with your father similarly complicated?”
“Yes, but I’m the chosen one, the eldest son. Our relationship is special. My father is larger than life. He’s more than a person. He’s an entity, a force. And growing up you learn to stay out of the way of that force, but as an adult, I find myself more often than not directly in the path of it. I thought I could ride the wave, but now it’s clear it’s crashing down on me.”
“That sounds like a natural progression,” I observe. “Our relationships with our parents and the conflict, potential or real, that can be involved is often something we avoid early on in life, but it can come to a head later on.”
“That’s exactly where we are now, at a head. He thinks I don’t have what it takes to be in charge. He doesn’t care about emotions or feelings. He only respects strength. Aggression. He thinks I’m not a killer.”
Kendall sits for a moment, thinking, and I sit in the silence, waiting to see what comes up for him.
“Something happened,” Kendall says, now serious. “An incident, an accident, in the past, and it was bad. Something I did. So I went to my dad for help. And he helped me. He did what a dad’s supposed to do. But now he’s holding it against me. I mean, you’re supposed to go to your dad for help with life’s difficulties, right? And they’re supposed to help you because they love you, not because it puts them in a strategically advantageous position. But, that’s my dad. Every problem is an opportunity.”
Kendall leans back again, still deep in thought. I pass on asking a question to let him continue to feel whatever he’s feeling in the moment. After a moment he continues.
“He wants me to take the fall.”
“For what?”
“The whole cruise ship department scandal. You heard about that, right?”
Before I can respond Kendall continues. “He wants me to be the fall guy. We had a big meeting, all the top brass, and it was determined that someone would have to take the bullet. Someone would have to be sacrificed. And it was decided that it should be me. I thought he would love me more if I did this. Like, by going along with this plan I would be proving myself to him. He’d finally be impressed with me. But I don’t know if that will ever be the case.”
“I can understand that,” I say. “It’s true, based on my experience working with similar parent relationships with other clients, that it’s one thing to do the work to develop an understanding about what you needed from your parents and how they didn’t provide it for you. To learn to verbalize exactly what you wish they would say to you that would make you feel better. The harder part is accepting the fact that they’ll probably never say those things. They’re just not capable of it. They might not ever be able to give you what you need.”
Kendall nods as he considers this. “That’s very true. I can’t keep waiting for him, hoping that some day I’ll do something that will earn his approval. I have to kill him.”
I sit for a moment, waiting for him to elaborate, then I clarify: “Not literally though, right?”
“No. I mean, probably not. I mean, like five percent chance, max. But don’t worry, my lawyers looked at your intake paperwork, you’ve got no liability. But if I want the crown, I gotta come for the king, and I best not miss.”
Kendall looks up at me with a new, more determined manner.
“My father is a malignant presence. He’s a bully, and a liar. I think it’s time for his reign to end, and I’m the one to end it.”
“That sounds like it’s something you’ve thought about, with determination and clarity.”
“Thanks, but I actually just came up with it in this moment.”
Kendall snaps out of his contemplative mood and back to his more jocular self as he stands up.
“Hells yeah! Determination and clarity FTW. What a great session, right? This has been great. I’m really knocking this mental health ball out of the park, don’t you think?”
“I’m glad you feel that way. Of course, we still have plenty of time left.”
The thumping sound of a helicopter appears in the distance, becoming louder and louder.
Kendall ignores the sound and continues. “Does it always work like this with your clients? You should be scaling this operation, big time. Move past the individual client and apply this to multiples. You know, podcasts, AI, one flywheel spinning off into alternate revenue streams.”
The helicopter sound is so loud now that Kendall has to raise his voice.
“I’ll have my nerds put together a spreadsheet for you to look at!”
Before I can respond the office door opens, and Jess appears, wearing a set of noise-cancelling headphones, and hands another pair to Kendall.
“We’re ninety seconds off schedule!” Jess yells.
“I’m all done here, let’s go!” yells Kendall, as he puts on the headphones.
“Kendall, are we on for next week?” I yell.
Kendall points to his headphones, indicating that he can’t hear me, then offers me a fist bump before striding out of my office, Jess close on his heels.
I look out the window at the helicopter that’s just landed in the parking lot. Kendall and Jess get on board and it flies away.
I sit back down in my chair and start to write up my notes.
Clinical Notes: Client presented with an upbeat affect, displaying a big personality, eager to joke and make light of serious issues. As session continued, Client became more introspective, considering his relationship with his father both in terms of his upbringing, and also current day business decisions. Client described frustration with wanting to take over the family business, and being told by father that was the plan, but confronting the reality that father might not really want to commit to a succession plan. Client ended session determined to take action to confront his father.
Diagnosis:
Z62.820: Parent-Biological Child Conflict
Z56.9: Unspecified Problem Related to Employment
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