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I changed degrees, and he was highly disappointed in me. Let me backtrack a little. Both my parents are lawyers and we all thought I would be too. Now Dad is a judge and when I told him I didn’t want to continue, I think it broke his heart a little.
But my father is not a soft man, so his reaction was a surprise. Oh, I knew he’d be unhappy, which was why I spent months keeping my thoughts to myself and then when I finally decided and told my then boyfriend, Asher; I was extremely nervous.
More on him later.
When I confessed, they were shocked and asked a lot of questions. Including what I wanted to do next. When I said marketing, Dad didn’t look impressed.
“Hey, I could have said I wanted to be a stripper,” I said with a cheesy smile.
“Well, at least you don’t want to be a comedian,” Dad deadpanned.
“Are you sure about this?” Mom asked.
I nodded.
“I’ve been miserable all year,” I told them. “My grades are suffering, and I can’t see myself being a lawyer.”
“There are a lot of things you can do with a law degree,” my father tried.
“Dad. I... It’s not who I am. A marketing degree is a great foundation if I want to work for a good company or start my own business one day.”
“And do what?”
I threw up my hands. “I don’t know. I’m twenty!” I cried. “Just because you knew what you wanted to do. Most people don’t.”
“She’s right, Jerry,” Mom said in support.
His frowning face watched me for a long time before the ultimatum arrived.
“Fine. But here are my terms,” he said.
Did I mention my father was a judge? He wasn’t about to agree and let me walk away lightly. I had known this, but I was still surprised by what came next.
“Do your Bachelor of Marketing, but you must remain at Yale. Your mother and I will pay for it, but if you don’t complete it, you will pay back the entire amount and the first year of law school.”
My mouth fell open.
I’d always believed my parents were paying for college. They told me they would, and I worked hard to get into Yale.
“Plus,” Dad said. “When you graduate, I want to see you stay in a job for two years. You need to stick to something.”
“Oh, come on,” I cried, looking at my mom.
“That’s the deal,” my father had continued.
“This isn’t encouraging her, Jerry,” Mom had finally piped up in support.
He grumbled, then started on his fingers. “Guitar, hip hop dancing, photography – and do you know how much cameras flipping cost? – and what happened to becoming a fitness trainer? Then you finally agreed to study law.”
In my defense, no one had told me how early trainers started in the morning. I don’t rise before the sun. Not for anything.
Not even coffee.
“I don’t have the flexibility for dance. You should really take some responsibility for that. After all, I’m half your DNA.”
“Again, thank goodness you aren’t looking at stand-up comedy. Yet.” His brows lifted.
I flopped back on the sofa.
