Chapter 5 #3
“From what I heard, that sounded positive,” he remarked. “But it was less than fifty percent of the conversation because that woman can really talk.”
“She had a lot to say but most of it was good. She’s going to grade me separately based on the information that I gave her, showing the edits and how I had actually done all the work on the project myself.”
“That’s great,” he approved. “I’m glad it worked out.”
“Me too. She wouldn’t tell me how she’s going to handle the rest of the group, but she sounded pretty pissed at them. And she also gave me a lecture about delegation and working with others, which was utter bullshit. You can’t.”
“I think that’s what human society is based on. We’re not all hermits living in the woods,” he said.
“Didn’t you ever get forced into a group project? What always happens is that one person does everything and the other people coast.”
He thought. “I don’t remember that too well. The last group thing I did was in high school and either we all pulled together as a team, or I coasted so I didn’t notice.”
No, he didn’t seem to be a shirker. “Maybe it’s just me, then. Maybe I attract losers. In my life, I seem to be surrounded by people who need help but are incapable of giving anything back. They just end up as weights around my neck.”
Shane didn’t say anything and he wasn’t doing his agree/disagree head movement. He only looked thoughtful.
“Maybe it’s just me,” I repeated.
“No, I can understand the fear of having someone hanging on you, being a leach. I wouldn’t want that, either. You probably have to make a…I can’t remember the technical term. Like, a ditch or a fence.”
“Are you talking about boundaries?” For the first time today, I smiled. “You’re right. I should.”
“Rather than getting mad and stewing, you should say what you’re thinking.
‘If y’all won’t do any work on this project, I’ll hand it in with only my name on it.
You’ll fail and that’s too darn bad.’ You can tell your parents, ‘My sister and Max better start pulling the same number of shifts as I do, or you’ll have to pay me more.
’” He paused. “No, you tell them, ‘We need to set up a timekeeping system where we’re clocking in and out, and you’ll pay me the legal amount due to me in the state of Michigan. ’”
“I can’t do that. It’s a family business.”
“What difference does that make?” He pulled up in front of a duplex, a cute little building, and stopped. “If I worked in my father’s insurance office, he sure as heck wouldn’t be cheating me out of money. He would pay himself less so he could pay me more.”
“Well, there’s no money to pay anybody.”
“I always see customers—”
“We’re having huge financial problems,” I butted in.
“A few years ago, we had really bad water damage from broken pipes. I read over our insurance policy for the first time and found out how poor our coverage was, and it was a disaster. We needed money to fix everything so we could open back up, because otherwise, we were going to lose the place. And the house, too, because we owe everyone. We owe the bank. We owe the contractor who did the repairs and there are liens. My dad is terrible with money so my mom tried to take over and she’s just as bad. ”
I stopped and took a breath, stopping myself before I got into the issues with my dad at the casinos and my mom’s accounting errors. There were a lot of mistakes.
“The business is in a hole,” he summarized and I nodded. “You can’t draw a salary because there’s nothing to draw from.”
I nodded again. “If I didn’t work like I do, then it would all fall apart.
My great-grandfather opened that restaurant and my grandpa kept it going.
And now, we’re going to ruin it? I don’t want that to happen.
I don’t want my family home to get sold at an auction when I can do something about it.
” I thought of a guy in a Woodsmen uniform, on bended knee and holding out a ring.
It had seemed like a good solution because we needed money, immediately.
A football player could have made a difference and I wasn’t totally letting go of that, not yet.
“It’s more complicated than I thought,” Shane said. “But life usually is, right? Let’s go in and look at this apartment.”
The landlord was there to show us around and we took a tour.
I was impressed. It was already clean and it felt spacious, with tall ceilings which were good for Shane’s height.
His giant mattress would fit in the bedroom, and the kitchen had a dishwasher and a washer and dryer.
There was a second little bedroom, too, which would have fit a desk if he ever wanted to work at home, or could have been used for extra storage if he became like my relatives and started saving every piece of paper and junk that ever crossed his path.
I looked over at him several times and nodded to show my approval, in case he felt like he needed it.
This was a very nice place and the landlord was amenable to me sitting in the truck and going over the lease word by word before anyone signed.
Then Shane did sign, and he had a new home. “Congratulations,” I said as we left. “Are you happy?”
“Sure.” He sighed, and that word had sounded way less than elated. More like glum.
“If you’re having second thoughts—”
“No, this is for the best. I’m worried about the money but I need to come home to a decent place. I’ve had my fill of living with people who forget to flush and don’t mind sharing the kitchen with cockroaches.”
“There was more than just a ‘forgot to flush’ problem in your former bathroom. I think your old landlord should have a hazmat crew go in there,” I told him and he didn’t disagree.
“We got a lot done today,” he noted instead.
“Did we?”
“You saved your academic career,” he answered. “I found a place where I don’t have to worry about things scuttling around my feet if I don’t turn on the lights. I learned a lot about your family, too.”
“Like what?”
“Your dad is a bully,” he said. “He tries to use his size and language to intimidate you. Your mom is scared and so is your sister.”
Maybe I should have been offended—he was talking about my father, after all, not some stranger. Maybe I should have defended him or denied what Shane was saying. “Yes, that’s true,” I answered. “My brother is scared of him, too.”
“That’s because Max is weak. But you’re not afraid,” he stated.
That was also true. “Are you using your football scouting skills on me?” I asked.
“I guess I am,” he said. “I try to read guys when I watch them play and I talk to their coaches to learn about their character. We don’t want to sign someone who will quit on us and let us down, for example.”
“I don’t quit. If you signed me, I wouldn’t let you down.”
“I would put my money on you.” Now he was fully nodding. “Let’s go eat.” He pulled out, glancing once into the mirror at his new home, and then turning in the direction of the healthy place where I’d taken him before.
“You’re hungry a lot,” I pointed out.
“I also like doing stuff with you.”
He did? I smiled, but I turned to look out the window so he wouldn’t see.
“When we’re done, why don’t we go back to that lighthouse?” he suggested.
“Why?”
“You can see so far, like your eyes are perfect,” Shane explained. “First, we’ll have some leafy greens and vegetable proteins. Sound good?”
I nodded, too. I liked doing things with him—I just liked him, in general. In every way.