Chapter 31
Dax
A s I pack my things, I should feel sad.
Taking a moment to look out at the view of Chicago from the office I coveted only months ago, I see the city from a different perspective.
I still see its beauty, but I also see it as I never have.
The floor-to-ceiling windows are no longer simply panes of glass but the equivalent to bars on a prison cell.
The constant battle to climb the ladder of success is all-consuming in a way I was blinded to—or more likely refused to admit.
I witnessed that climb as a child, watching both my parents.
By the world’s standards they are successes in their own right.
They made millions and are now living their dream in sunny Florida.
Spending days at the country club playing golf is what they have to show for that climb.
When I was young, my parents rarely attended baseball or football games. I never doubted their love, but in hindsight, I can’t name a memory that reflects it. Again, they weren’t bad parents. I can glean both positives and negatives to help guide me in my new role of father.
My business proposal to the firm was to work remotely.
This is modern day, and it’s done all the time.
I would set up my house in Riverbend with the best available internet.
I would travel when necessary, but my primary work would come from there.
I even added the potential of small-town construction; according to the men eating breakfast at the diner, homes are multiplying in Riverbend’s outskirts.
The entire state is growing with land to do so.
People are tiring of the larger cities on the coasts and looking for what the Midwest has to offer.
As a potential partner, one who earned a multimillion-dollar bonus for the work in London, I thought my proposal had merit.
My mom even thought it had a chance. Unfortunately—or fortunately—the partners declined my offer.
I don’t know if they discounted my sincerity of leaving, but I didn’t.
Now, looking out at the cityscape, I have no regrets.
I don’t want to look back on my life and realize I spent it with a bank account and a lonely apartment. Frequent flier miles are useless without someone beside me.
Over the years of summers that I spent in Riverbend, Grandpa John and Grandma Ruth taught me what success truly means.
It isn’t the number of zeros in accounts or the ability to invest in commodities that live on paper only.
Success is waking every day to someone you love.
It’s working with and for friends to better their lives and investing in friendships.
It’s having people like Kandace does, the friends and family in Riverbend who will come over at midnight and take your daughter for a day so you can rest. It’s breakfast with men I’ve known most of my life.
I’ve opened my eyes and ears and recognized what was right in front of me.
There’s a knock on the office door before Gena peeks around the corner. “Mr. Richards, Ms. Michaels is here to see you.”
“Send her in.”
Jane Michaels is a senior partner and the same age as my mother. She could easily retire, but I think she enjoys the climb too much to step off the ladder.
“Dax, I’m sorry.”
A smile spreads over my face. “Don’t be. I’m not.”
“You have potential. Your work is outstanding. I was pushing for you to make partner.”
Inhaling I look around the office. “I’m not sorry, Jane.
This was my mom’s dream, and I get it. I do.
I know the rush when you get the client or win a case.
Litigation isn’t my thing, but I still feel that invigoration that comes with researching and finding the answer.
I know what it’s like to have success. I’ve had it, and I’m good with that. ”
“What are you going to do?”
“Move to Riverbend. Real estate is booming there. I have enough money set back to let me take my time before jumping into something new. Maybe I’ll hang a shingle, or maybe I’ll talk to Jeffrey Murphy about going in with him in his practice.”
“Small-town lawyer. Lawsuits about pigs and cows. That’s not you. You’re standing here in a custom-made suit and thousand-dollar shoes.”
I tug at my tie. “It’s all a game, Jane. A masquerade to appear successful before you really are. I guess I’ve decided to stop being the rat running the race.”
Jane sighs.
“You’re an amazing attorney,” I say, “and I’m happy to have learned from you.”
“I learned a lot from Virginia. You could too.”
“My mom has taught me a lot.”
“And she’s happy with your decision?”
“The decision isn’t about her. She gets that.” I grin. “Maybe one day I’ll be litigating cases about livestock.” Lifting my arms, I let them fall to my side. “My options are limitless. Hell, I might spend a few months working on a farm. Hard work never hurt me.”
“You are a hard worker. I hate to lose you. You proposed one hundred percent remote. I have a counteroffer. Would you consider two weeks here and two weeks there?”
My lips come together as I shake my head. “I want to be a full-time father, Jane. I’ve missed out on five years. I don’t want to spend the next thirteen—before Molly’s off to college—seeing her in two-week increments.”
She smiles. “If you decide to come back, call.”
“I don’t see that happening, but I will remember that. Thank you.”
“Tell Ginny I’m sorry.”
“Like I said, she gets it.” I shrug. “Dad, not so much.”
After Jane leaves, Gena enters.
“I just saw your recommendation to the partners. Thank you.”
Gena is fifteen years my senior and has been my assistant since I started the firm.
My decision to leave shouldn’t be the end of her future within this firm.
“I meant every word. You’re talented and have invaluable experience.
I wish you all the success you want. You’d make a great attorney yourself. ”
Her lips come together in a sad smile. “You’ll be missed.”
“Maybe, but not by the people who matter most.”
“I guess this means I have to break in another recent graduate.”
That makes me laugh. The truth is that I learned more from Gena in my first two years at this firm than I did in law and business school. The education is important, but real life is a whole new world.
“Thank you for breaking me in.”
“Give that little girl a big hug and tell her that she has a great father.”
“I’ll give her that hug. As far as her father, the jury is out, but he wants to be worthy of the title.”
Once I’m back to my apartment, I call Kandace. She picks up on the second ring.
“Hi.”
Simply hearing her voice makes me smile. “Hi, back. How’s your dad?”
“He’s doing better every day. I took Molly to see him last night. He was out of bed and sitting in a chair. Mom says he’s not eating like he should. Dad says he wants real food. In other words, he wants Mom’s cooking.”
“Is he going home soon?”
“Yeah,” she says, “they think Thursday…that’s tomorrow. What’s up? You caught me with the store a bit slow.”
“How about phone sex?” I say, imagining Kandace’s cheeks turning pink.
“The store isn’t that slow.”
I take a deep breath. “I called because I wanted you to know I won’t be back on Friday.”
For a moment the line is quiet. Finally, she says, “Okay.”
“I’m coming back today.”
Kandace lets out a breath. “Don’t do that to me, Dax.”
“I’m coming back and staying, Kandace. I gave the firm a business proposal. They rejected it. I gave my notice.”
“You what? You quit your job? Dax, it’s your dream.”
“It was one of them and I did it. I told them that I’d finish the projects I’m working on from Riverbend. Once those are done, I’m one hundred percent out.” Before she could speak, I went on, “Dreams change. My new dream is with you and Molly. We can talk about it when I’m there.”
“What time do you think you’ll get in?”
“I’m going to throw as much as I can into the car and take off in an hour or so. The lease on my apartment doesn’t end until next May. I figure I’ll keep it until then, and we’ll have a place to stay when we bring Molly to the museum.”
“How can you afford two places?” she asks.
As her question comes forth, it hits me that Kandace has no idea how much money I make or how much money my family has. That alone makes me love her more. She’s never been about material things. “We can talk about that too.”
“Okay. Come to the farm.”
“I’ll see you soon.”