Chapter 36 #2
To my surprise, Dad peeked his head back into the conference room. “Alison, please be sure to have those deck packets shredded before the end of the day.”
I breathed, my exhales shaky.
Inhale. Two. Three. Four.
Hold. Two. Three. Four.
Exhale. Two. Three. Four.
Hold.
I looked up to find Asher’s kind eyes. Patient.
“I’m sorry about that, Asher. I wasted your time. I guess I wasted everyone’s time.” Emotion bubbled in me.
“You didn’t waste my time. I am happy to be here for you, Ali.”
“I really thought this would work and this could be the start of something.”
“Your pitch is very compelling. Smart. Forward-thinking.” Encouraging. Kind. What I wanted to hear from my dad.
Stupid.
I was being so stupid. A child. What did I know about business? About corporate development? Steepled Fingers was right. I did have to google most of the business concepts. I was relying on instinct and fast research for this pitch.
“You’re very kind. It was shit.” I tried to laugh. Make light of the situation. It snagged in my throat. “I wasn’t ready for all this.”
“Will you try again?” he asked.
“No. My dad is very rigid. When he decides something, that’s it.” A pause. “He’s like Jake. Controlled. Pragmatic.”
“I don’t know much about your father, but Jake is nothing like that man,” Asher declared.
I tilted my head. Go on.
“You say your dad is controlled. From what you’ve told me and what I saw today, he seems controlling.
” His gaze held mine. “Jake isn’t that. Jake is steady.
Sturdy. And Jake may be quiet, but he is not emotionally withheld.
The Jake I know doesn’t ration his feelings.
He is practical, yes—but not at the expense of caring for others. He’s calm, not indifferent.”
The words landed slow and heavy.
I sank into an office chair, folding forward as something inside me gave way. Empty. Hollowed out.
I lifted my chin, willing my tears not to fall. They slipped sideways instead, warm trails from the corners of my eyes as if insisting I feel every inch of them.
“You’re right.”
Jake was quiet—but he was the kind of quiet that steadied me.
He was practical—but that meant reliable. Honest. Safe.
His dedication to his clinic. To his town. To his people.
To me.
Jake never tried to control me.
He tried to understand me.
He saw me.
I’d walked away from the one man who knew how to love me.
Movement outside the glass doors of the conference room signaled that we needed to clear out. I stood and started reaching around the table for the booklets.
I paused, holding one in front of me.
“I’m sorry you had to watch me fail.” I sounded as defeated as I felt.
“That wasn’t failure,” he said, helping to retrieve some of the packets. “Did you know that I have an MBA?”
I didn’t.
“Yep. Just like many of the people working here, I have an advanced degree in business. And I have some experience in environments like this too. It was a long time ago, but sadly it seems nothing’s changed.
“Ali, I do know something about good business. Your plan is a good one. It’s different and it’s meaningful. These guys”—he twirled his finger in a circle—“they can’t see it. But there’s a lot here that will benefit Lakeside. Can I take these ideas back with me?”
“You really think so?” Two feelings rose at the same time. Pride at the certainty of Asher’s voice, at the way he believed in the plan without hesitation. I felt it in my gut—solid and grounding.
Then the other crept in.
A quieter ache. The realization that if this plan and Lakeside blossoming as a result did come to life, I might only watch it happen from the outside. That something, a place, the people, a person, I believed in and loved so fiercely might grow—without me.
Asher and I stepped out onto Wacker Drive. It was a gorgeous day in the city despite the sticky air.
“I think I’m going to hit the road first thing tomorrow morning. Get back to Lakeside early,” Asher said. “Will has a band concert in the afternoon. It would be nice to surprise him.”
“That sounds like a good plan. Do you want to get dinner somewhere here tonight?” I asked.
“Can I take a raincheck? I think I might get room service and watch the Packers–Jets preseason game in my hotel room,” he said.
“Of course! Go Pack!” A passerby grumbled and gave me a dirty look. Asher looked at me with wide eyes.
“Be careful where you say that, Ali. This city is full of Bears fans.” Then he mouthed, “They hate the Packers.”
I placed my hand on my mouth, acting like I was containing my words.
I watched him walk away. My thoughts wandered to Lakeside again. I found when I needed comfort I traveled back. At least in my mind. And I wasn’t thinking about the campaign. I was thinking about the people. My friends.
I thought about Betsy and wondered how she was getting on since being cleared for work again.
I thought about Marjorie and wondered what she decided to get Tim for their anniversary. We’d been texting ideas.
I thought about Maggie Jo and how her date with her UPS crush went.
I thought of Stacy and wondered if her granddad was doing okay. He’d had a fall a few nights ago, and she was worried about him.
But mostly I thought about Jake.
I wondered what he was doing. How he was doing. If he thought about me. I wondered what he would say if I called him. What I would say.
Actually, I knew what I would say. I would tell him about seeing that the book he was dying to read had finally been released. The author was scheduled to do a signing at the Book Cellar in Lincoln Square next week.
That’s what I would have said out loud, but what I would have meant was, I miss you. A lot. Like a part of me was missing.
But I knew calling him and talking about books or our day would just hurt more.
“Ali?” I looked up to find Molly standing in front of me, her hair slicked into a ballet bun. A stylish blazer in a soft shade of pink was draped over her arm, making her toned skin visible in her sleeveless shirt.
“Molly,” I said, nodding. It wasn’t a greeting, really. More like acknowledgment: Yes, it is me. Yes, I see it is you.
She looked away. I expected this would be the extent of our interaction. Acknowledgment.
She lingered.
“Look . . . I . . .” She started and stopped. An awkward pause.
“Just say it,” I responded, my voice neutral and even. She didn’t rattle me anymore.
She took a deep breath and plunged in. Her words were direct and imperfect. It reminded me of my first cold plunge.
“We broke up. Ryan and I, I mean. He was . . . not right for me.”
“I heard. I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” I said flatly. I wasn’t really sorry. I’d forgotten, mostly. I was indifferent to them. To her. I thought back to my dad’s indifference.
“I’m not. I know that sounds awful, but he was the worst. He was a terrible boyfriend.” She quieted. “He was not worth the price of our friendship.” I almost missed it altogether over the sound of the rails of the L train screeching in the distance.
“Yeah, well . . .” I shrugged.
“I’m so sorry. For how things happened.” Her words were measured. I heard sincerity.
“Thank you for saying that,” I said. I couldn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t, but I could give her some grace. It’s what Jake would have done. Thinking of him and realizing another way he had changed me for the better made me smile.
“You’re glowing. What’s your secret? Is it the new Dew Drops from Goop?
I got a sample of them but haven’t tried them yet.
Maybe I could film you giving a testimonial?
” All sincerity evaporated. It left me wondering.
Questioning. Not even five minutes into a conversation with Molly and I already saw more than one side of her.
Thankfully, I didn’t need to waste any energy trying to figure out which one was the real one.
Knowing more than one existed was answer enough.
“No. It’s not Dew Drops. I don’t know what it could be.” Which was a lie.
I knew exactly what it was. It was a whole life shift.
It was taking better care of me. It was understanding boundaries and what true friendship was.
It was sleeping and eating right. It was knowing my worth.
Having purpose. Feeling like I had loved ones who relied on me and who I could rely on.
Who I trusted. It was being in love. Even if I couldn’t be in that love at the moment.
I was a completely different person from the Ali she knew. But Molly had stayed exactly the same.
“I better get back.” I pointed toward the building.
“It was my idea, you know. The article. To change the narrative about you . . . It was a better story. You weren’t fired. You were redirected. I thought it would help your reputation. Make up for . . . well, you know. And help GlennGlobal, of course. Smart, right?”
I stared at her.
Her idea.
She thought a lie to cover a lie was helping.
Something inside me went still. This wasn’t the life I wanted.
“Good to see you, Molly. Take care,” I said, and I stepped toward the sliding doors.
“You too, Ali. Seriously, it’s been too long. We can’t let this happen again,” she hollered as I walked away.
Maybe she meant the time between conversations. Between seeing each other.
I didn’t.
“It won’t. Bye, Molly.”
I pushed through his office door. His assistant startled in my wake.
“We need to talk.”
“Alison,” he said cooly. Not looking up. “I’m very busy. Can this wait?”
“No.”
A beat.
He nodded to his assistant. The door shut.
I sat across from him. He leaned back, his chair creaking as it settled.
“You didn’t defend me.”
“This is business,” he said. “You need thicker skin. I can’t coddle you.”
“Passing on my pitch, I can take that. But I was disrespected. Belittled. And you said nothing.”
He exhaled. “You’re being dramatic.”
The word landed like a slap.
“Dad. I love you. But I realized something today.” My pulse pounded. My voice stayed even. “Everything I do is to earn something from you. Respect. Approval. Love.”
“That’s absurd. You know I love you.”
“Do I?”
“You receive a generous draw from your trust fund every month. I’ve provided for you.”
There it was.
The sum of his love.
“Nothing I do makes you proud of me.”
“You sound just like my mother,” he muttered. “You’ve spent too much time in that town. You’re starting to sound weak.”
“Lakeside didn’t make me weak.”
“Well, it made you sentimental.”
“No. It made me honest. With myself.”
He smoothed his tie. Folded his hands on his stomach.
“Everything I do is to protect you. To prepare you. Someday you’ll understand.”
“Protect me?” My composure wavered for the first time. “You regard me with indifference.”
He looked at me now. But still . . . he didn’t see me.
“I don’t indulge emotion.”
“Indulge it?” I let out a disbelieving breath. “Dad, I’m just asking you to feel it.”
His jaw hardened.
“You’re wild. Unfocused. Just like your grandmother.”
The room shifted.
“I should have distanced you from her sooner.”
My pulse skipped. “What does that mean?”
“When she started to decline . . .” He spoke slowly, measured. “I told her to ask you to stop visiting.”
“You what?”
“It was for your own good. I could pay for her care. You didn’t need to watch that happen. I didn’t think you were strong enough.”
Something sharp pierced my chest.
“You made her write me that letter?” My thoughts scrambled, trying to rearrange into something logical. They wouldn’t. “You told her to tell me to stay away.”
“I spared you.”
I felt something split inside me. Old grief. Old confusion. Old shame.
I swallowed it back down. Not here. Not with him.
“Dad.”
He met my eyes.
“I love you. I’m going to believe you thought you were doing your best. But you had no right to dictate my relationship with Gibby.
” My voice didn’t shake. “You once told me you wanted me to be a serious person. Well, I hope you hear the seriousness of my words now. Gibby deserved better. I deserve better. And you—” I held his gaze. “You need to do better.”
His expression didn’t change.
“You’ll have my resignation in your inbox by tomorrow morning.”
His eyes sharpened.
“I won’t spend my life trying to earn something you’ve already decided not to give.” I steadied myself as I stood up. “I appreciate the money. But I don’t need that either.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Where will you go?” he asked, evaluating.
“I’m going home.”
A breath.
“To Lakeside.”