Chapter 13 - The Father I Let Back In Slowly
Calling Mark “Dad” once did not erase fourteen years.
That mattered.
He seemed to understand.
He didn’t start calling every day.
Didn’t show up unannounced.
Didn’t send another expensive gift.
We had breakfast twice that month.
The first was awkward.
The second slightly less.
He asked about college.
Not the company.
I told him I had applied to Purdue, Michigan and Illinois.
He nodded.
“Engineering?”
“Probably.”
“You’ll be good at it.”
“You don’t know that.”
He smiled sadly.
“Fair.”
I respected that answer.
Then he told me about treatment.
He had returned to a support group for gambling addiction.
He had not gambled in thirteen years, but he had stopped attending meetings because he thought being abstinent meant being cured.
“The debt wasn’t gambling this time,” he said.
“But the thinking was.”
“What thinking?”
“That one big win fixes everything.”
Texas factory.
Company control.
My shares.
The car.
He had spent his whole life looking for a dramatic move that erased years of consequences.
Recovery, apparently, was the opposite.
Small decisions.
Repeated honestly.
I understood that better than he knew.
At home, life remained normal.
Ray fixed a leak under the sink.
Danny broke his phone.
Cara decided she wanted a hamster and launched a lobbying campaign more sophisticated than anything Mercer Industrial’s board had produced.
College acceptance letters arrived.
Illinois offered strong financial aid.
Purdue admitted me too.
Then Mercer’s trust office reminded me I could pay tuition anywhere.
For once, money did make a decision easier.
I chose Purdue.
Mechanical engineering.
Ray spent a week pretending West Lafayette was “basically next door.”
Mom cried every time someone mentioned August.
Mark offered to buy me an apartment.
I said no.
He nodded.
Progress.
Then Ray’s employer announced layoffs.
His department was being eliminated.
He came home carrying a cardboard box.
For the first time since I had known him, Ray looked scared.
“I’ll find something.”
Mom hugged him.
I immediately thought of Mercer Industrial.
Maintenance management.
Plant operations.
Ray had twenty years of experience.
One phone call from me could probably get him an interview.
Maybe even a job.
I almost made it.
Then I stopped.
Was I about to become Mark?
Using money and influence to fix somebody else’s life without asking?
I walked into the kitchen.
“Ray.”
“Yeah?”
“Mercer Industrial has openings.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
“You looked?”
“This afternoon.”
That surprised me.
“I was going to ask if you wanted me to—”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
Then:
“But you can help me with the online application because their website is terrible.”
I laughed.
Ray applied like everyone else.
Interviewed like everyone else.
Three weeks later, he got the job.
Not because of me.
At least, that’s what I believed.
Then Paul Kendrick called.
“I should probably tell you something.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Mark heard Ray applied.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did he interfere?”
Paul hesitated.
“He made one phone call.”
I felt betrayed instantly.
“What did he say?”
Paul laughed.
“He told HR that if anyone hired Ray because of his connection to you, Mark would personally recommend firing them.”
I sat down.
“That’s what he called about?”
“He wanted Ray judged on his own qualifications.”
Then Paul added:
“Your stepfather had the highest interview score in the applicant pool.”
May you like
I smiled.
Maybe people really could change.
