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7
Baxter
I need to make some changes. First on the list to “fix Andrew Delaney Baxter-Scott” is to change how I deal with my dad. I can’t allow him to continue to try and control me. At one point, I had an idea I thought would work, but I wasn’t sure I could do it now. I’d sold my soul when I’d gone to work for my dad. Now, I need to reclaim my life.
The hardest email I’ve ever written sits in my outbox waiting for me to press send. I call my dad because I can’t do this any longer and I’m not going to hide my actions. I’ll be up-front with him because I’m not ever going to go back to being the type of guy who hides from problems.
“What do you want, Jacey?” The greeting from my dad was about what I’d expected.
“I’m turning in my resignation.”
“You little shit. I’ve given you everything you’ve ever had.”
“No, Dad, you haven’t. I’ve worked hard for what I’ve had. You have tried to thwart me at every turn. You didn’t pay me when I was in college, and you didn’t pay for my undergrad degree. Don’t you remember, your father set up the account for me and paid into it? You decided I can’t have the company though I’ve worked hard to understand the ins and outs of the business. I don’t know what you think you’ve given me.”
He says nothing so I hang up. Next, is turning in my resignation. After facing my dad, it’s easy. I send a note, telling the CEO I’m done. I don’t get into why, just that I’m leaving the company.
I spend the next hour tying up loose threads, making sure whoever takes my place can manage the area effectively. My absence will probably be celebrated. This company is toxic because my dad wanted it to be that way.
My mom calls before I can leave for the day. She tries to convince me to stay. “You’ll regret this.” Her voice goes shrill as she yells into the phone.
“Mom, I know what I’m doing.”
“What? Like dating that low-class girl.”
I bristle, wanting to tell her to go to hell. Instead, I keep my voice even. “She isn’t low class.”
“Well, we certainly don’t approve. She’s one of those—”
“Don’t say it.”
“Don’t date her. We don’t approve.”
I laugh at the absurdity of her statement. “You don’t approve of me. You never have, so knock off the manipulation. I’m not going to ever be what you and Dad want.”
I don’t wait for her to reply. With my phone turned to vibrate, I head out, waving off questions because at this moment, I don’t give a flip.
I catch the 6 train uptown and head to Heather’s store. She’s talking to a woman in red who doesn’t look like she would ever wear Heather’s clothes. The stuff at HipFeather was too free-spirited. Heather catches my eye and smiles. I nod and run my fingers over a dress, thinking it would look good on her.
“Hey.” Her voice startles me out of my thoughts.
“Hey yourself.”
“You’re off work early.”
“I quit.”
“What?” Heather’s eyes are wide, her smile genuine.
“I called my dad and told him I was done. My mom called and I told her the same thing. I sent a note to my boss and said I was leaving. He hasn’t called me back or sent an email, but I’m sure he will after he gets an earful from my dad.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I tossed my dreams in the trashcan long ago.”
“You have time, right?”
“I think so. The place I rent is cheap. I was saving money to buy an apartment close to my parents. I guess I’m glad I never made the purchase.”
