Chapter 2
TWO
Jim
My favorite time of day was when I was home with my family, and the busy chaos of my work faded to absolutely nothing.
After being away for over a week, handling a deal overseas, and then flying to the England office for a few days, I arrived home late yesterday afternoon intending to give my family the attention they deserved.
Hell, I just fucking missed all three of my best girls. Being able to pick up Addy and Izzy from school was enough to breathe life into me again. My family grounded me and kept me sane in an insane world that seemed to pull me in every direction but them these days.
Dinner was fantastic. Everyone was trading stories from their day at school, and I even got in a few fun jabs myself about work.
Avery seemed a little more troubled by her day, though, so when she stepped away to take a call from a woman she’d met earlier, the girls and I finished up the dishes.
I figured I’d ask more about her day once she was done and before I had to wrap up a few last-minute work emails.
It wasn’t a typical family night here, but not unusual either. Avery’s women’s center demanded her attention just as my company demanded mine. And, of course, being in grade school and high school came with its own demands via hours of homework for the girls.
The best part of this family dynamic was how we weaved our way through these obstacles and were always present for each other, especially at dinner when we revealed our funny stories from the day.
“I’ll do the dishes for a week if you finish that math problem,” I told Addy, stepping into her downstairs office, seeing that she was bent over her desk in frustration.
“Really?” She looked over at me and beamed.
“Of course not,” I answered deadpan. “But I’ll say I will.”
I crossed the room, seeing defeat written all over her stressed-out face.
“Dad, I can’t get this at all. It makes no sense, and the teacher won’t explain it right for those of us who are too dumb to understand math.”
I half-smiled, then examined the Algebra question she was stuck on. “Before I help you,” I said, popping her AirPods out of both her ears, “these have got to go. Listening to this nonsense is taking up more brain power than necessary.”
“It helps me concentrate,” she countered.
I glanced at her phone. “Taylor Swift helps you concentrate on break-ups and young love. Romance should be the furthest thing from your mind while focusing on your studies.”
“Oh, God,” she sat back in her chair, flustered. “It’s not like that. Her beats keep me motivated.”
“Motivated to stay on the same math problem since I started cooking dinner over two hours ago, kiddo?” I asked.
She stared at me like I was the most annoying person on the damn planet, and I couldn’t resist smirking at her. Oh, the frustrations of being a teenager and navigating schoolwork in a world where no one truly understands real-life problems.
“So, now I can’t listen to—”
“First, I want you to listen to me,” I interrupted her, ending the endless cycle of drama this was about to spiral into if I let it. I knelt to get closer to where she sat at her desk. “Nobody, especially you, is too dumb to do math,” I smiled at her.
“This coming from a man who is a master at the subject?” she said.
“Yes, precisely. Math is a game, sweetheart, not a challenge. In fact, it can be a fun riddle to solve if you learn it in a way that engages your brain and interests.”
She smiled. “We both know it’s you and Izzy who love math, games, puzzles, and riddles. Mom and I just love—”
“To get speeding tickets flying down the highway, I know,” I arched an eyebrow.
“Hey, that officer didn’t give me a ticket today,” she shot back.
“That’s only because he would’ve rather punished me for letting you speed through a twenty-five-mile-an-hour zone.
” I paused, then shifted gears. “Let’s back up.
I really want to help you see this as fun instead of a challenge.
Trust me, once I’m through with you, Algebra will be your favorite subject. ”
“Algebra is evil.”
“What’s the problem?” I ignored the dramatics.
“3x – 4 = 11. It makes no sense.”
I grabbed her pencil. “Okay, let’s make it easy. Let’s pretend this is a Taylor Swift concert.”
“Seriously?” she sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Go with me,” I answered with a smirk. I began scribbling out the equation while explaining, “See that minus four? Think of it like a Ticketmaster fee. To cancel it, we do the opposite and add four to the other side.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because math is fair. Whatever you do to one side, you must do to the other. So minus four and plus four together make zero. That’s when that scam fee disappears, and now you’re left with just 3x.”
“Okay,” she seemed to be following.
“Now, we need that x on its own. So, we divide by three to get it there,” I said while I showed her the three dividing on the other side. “That’s the whole point of algebra, stripping everything away until the answer is standing there by itself.”
She looked at the eleven we’d added four to, seeing it was fifteen. “So, three tickets are fifteen bucks.” She blinked. “And if we divide the three, then one ticket is five bucks?”
I tapped the page. “Exactly, x = 5. Algebra is just the world’s biggest Ticketmaster scam. You’re always undoing fees to see what’s real.”
She laughed. “Okay, that’s actually… brilliant.”
“Of course it is.”
“I still hate it, and it’s confusing.”
“Well, I’m sure Taylor Swift will keep you focused on your last ten problems.”
She popped in her AirPods and smiled, “Thanks, Dad. Hopefully, I can get the rest done without your help.”
“Any time, kiddo,” I said, standing up and kissing her on her head. “Finish up, and then it’s lights out.”
I strode out of the room and saw Avery across the hall, sitting at her desk with a cup of tea, obviously rattled about something.
“Is everything okay?” She nodded before I could even finish asking the question. “Okay, I’m going to check on Izzy, she’s done with homework and in her bedroom. I’ll be right in there to hold my lover,” I smiled at her.
“Yeah, thanks, babe,” she said. “It’s just stupid bullshit. I’ll explain it when you get back, and I’ll tuck in the kids after this is out of my way.”
“I’ll be back in a flash,” I said, walking toward the staircase that led to the girls’ bedrooms on the second floor.
Downstairs was where we kept the library, study, and offices—our designated workspaces for the girls, so homework stayed out of their rooms and in a shared area.
That was my rule. Bedrooms were for sanctuary, for escape, not for all the shit that had to be done at a desk or computer.
I smiled when I walked in and saw Izzy quickly pull her hand behind her back, most likely hiding a cookie she snuck from the cookie jar while everyone was distracted.
“I see homework is done, and you’re finishing the last of…what show is this?”
“Dad, shh. Blair’s about to ruin Serena’s life again.”
“I don’t know if I should be worried you know that sentence or that you snuck one of my cookies and are hiding it from me?”
Her cheeks flushed, and her dimples popped with her bashful smile, “You want the other?”
“It’s the only way you’re getting to keep the one you’re eating, so, yeah, hand it over, kid.”
I took the cookie, sat on the side of her bed, and frowned at the dramatics of the show our nine-year-old somehow got into. “Why are you even watching this?” I questioned, taking a bite of my chocolate chip cookie.
“Mom and Addy watch it all the time. We call it girls’ night when you’re gone. I’m not allowed to watch it without them, though,” she cringed, and I laughed.
“You are quite the sneaky little rebel tonight,” I ruffled her hair. “What’s it about? Boy crushes?”
“Dad,” she rolled her eyes.
“Well, it just looks a bit boring to me,” I said.
“That’s because you don’t know what real TV is.”
“Ah,” I said. “What’s it about, so maybe I’ll watch too?”
“Nope,” she popped her lips as she dragged out the word and grinned. “It’s the show we watch when you leave, so that way we don’t miss you so much.”
I smiled at her and hugged her. “Perhaps that’s a fantastic way to pass the time. I know how it feels to miss all of you, and I don’t want any of you to feel that way.”
She leaned into me, and I watched the characters narrate their way through some issues that had likely occurred two seasons prior. As much as I wanted to stay with Izzy in this state, I really needed to check on Avery. And, of course, finish responding to those goddamn emails.
“All right, kid,” I said. “Mom’s going to be here in a bit to tuck you away for the night, and now that my cookie is all gobbled up, I need to finish some last-minute things for work. Enjoy your show until Mom busts you for watching it without her.”
“I was going to turn it off,” she said contemplatively, “but since you and Mom always talk forever, I think I’ll watch another episode.”
“It’s nine-thirty, dude. It’s time to wrap it up,” I challenged my feisty kid. “Go brush that sugar out of your teeth first.”
“Fine,” another eyeroll.
Girls were fun to raise and bond with as a father. You’d usually get greeted with a snarky comment, followed by an eye roll, earn their appreciation, exert some authority, and wrap it all up with a parting eye roll. Damn, I loved it.
I walked out to Avery just as she stepped from her office. Pulling her into my arms, I studied her tired eyes. “What happened today?”
“It’s the woman who wanted to come to the center today. She went to the hospital tonight. Apparently, it was a domestic case,” she said against my chest.
“Fuck,” I said, resting my chin on her head. “I know you can’t give personal details, especially since I may know her husband, but is there anything you can say?”
“Sadly, she didn’t want to come to the center, but I still don’t feel right saying anything without the woman’s expressed permission.”
“It’s understandable,” I said, holding her tighter. “I’m so sorry you have these days, Av. I wish I could fix it all for you.”
She stepped back and smiled. “A hot bubble bath and my favorite glass of wine will most definitely take the edge off.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I can offer more than that, my love,” I said, running my hands over her shoulders.
“Oh, trust me, you will. I just need to get these raw nerves settled, then your gorgeous self is going to finish what we started last night after I got home.”
“You’re damn right we are,” I cupped her chin and kissed her lips. “Let me get the candles lit and the water flowing.”
“I’ve got all of that,” she smiled. “Go take care of those emails, then join me when you’re done.”
“Deal.”
I walked into my office and rushed through the emails that needed my approval before morning. It was hard to focus on work with nights like these, knowing my wife needed me in more ways than words could express. I still hadn’t had enough of her since returning from London yesterday.
Three emails down, and I noticed that my secretary had flagged the Special Events Department memo as “holiday approval.”
My lips twisted with annoyance at the endless list of holiday obligations.
It felt like we’d just finished with all this crap, and here it was again.
I scanned the list, thinking maybe this year we could switch it up instead of repeating the same tired routine.
Still expensive enough to show appreciation, but different—because we’d done the same damn thing last year, and the year before that, and every fucking year before.
Click. Charcuterie boards. Click. Champagne.
Done. Seven seconds and everyone was covered—from the hospital to the London office to downtown Los Angeles, and, of course, every company Mitchell and Associates had acquired.
Everyone would be receiving fresh, unique, and different Christmas gifts this year, and it took less than a blink to make the decision.
Not that anyone would notice. Everyone had too much shit going on in their lives these days to even notice me trying to change up their holiday gift this year.
What was important now was enjoying the rest of the night with my wife and being quietly proud that it only took me thirty minutes to handle these minor details before work tomorrow.