ANOTHER WEEK passed before Allison called us again, but Liz had been updating me via text messages. The results of Allison’s medical tests were negative, and she returned to her sister’s home for further rest and recovery. The news came as a tremendous relief. Uncertain of how much Allison wanted me to know, I accepted Liz’s updates with gratitude without pushing for more information.
Several days after her visit to the emergency room, Liz informed me that Allison was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. This news struck me like a punch to the gut, but Allison embraced it. She’d spent many years battling a downward spiral of pain and suffering, but there was no more hiding her condition. The action of acknowledging her symptoms and sharing them with her family liberated Allison from her emotional prison.
On the night when Allison finally called, she sounded strong. I handed Heide the phone and left her alone in the living room to reconnect with her mother. Forty minutes later, Heide found me in the bedroom and extended her arm, offering the phone back to me and letting me know that Allison wanted to talk.
I accepted the proffered cell phone with a sense of melancholy. I listened without interruption as Allison explained that her isolation in Oregon—far away from family, friends and familiar routines—had only exacerbated her stress. When Allison told me that she wasn’t coming back, that our marriage could not survive, I experienced both sorrow for the loss and sympathy for her predicament. The only element of surprise was when I realized I was romantically indifferent toward my wife. Allison’s physical and emotional recovery were far more important to me than holding on to an unhappy marriage.
Our primary concern was for Heide’s well-being. Allison was full of guilt where she was concerned. She hadn’t gone to Maryland believing she was leaving for good. She’d only left thinking she needed some distance from me and our problems. She’d wanted to figure out the best path forward, but she never intended to leave Heide for the long-term.
With an emotional confession, Allison explained to me that as soon as she’d arrived in Baltimore, the reality that she didn’t want to continue with our marriage overcame her. Our family was irreparably altered. I’d failed both Allison and Heide with my many mistakes, and so I resolved never to do so again. I shoved aside the temptation to indulge my selfish pride and offered Allison my unconditional support.
Allison didn’t want Heide to be a firsthand witness to her depression and grief, and so we made the difficult decision together to leave Heide with me in Bend. Child custody was not a battle to be won or lost. We each had to accept a painful challenge. Allison would have to endure an extended time separated from our daughter, while I would be the parent who would navigate Heide through the difficult process of our divorce.
Allison also had other things to figure out. She needed a job to support herself and a place to live. Settled into my new home and job in Oregon, I offered up our savings to allow Allison to do what she needed. She was surprised. After everything we’d been through during our marriage, the last thing I wanted was to fight with her. What good would that do? How could animosity between us be of any value to Heide’s health?
We ended the call with an agreement. We would take the weekend to mull over how to inform Heide of our decision. When the time came, we would tell her together.
We also promised to keep talking to one another.
Five days later, I was sitting in the conference room at work. I had no idea what the meeting was about. Thinking about Heide and Allison had me distracted and upset.
The previous night, we had broken the news to Heide via FaceTime. Heide had been sitting on my lap while Allison led the conversation. I supported every one of Allison’s statements and held Heide close as she absorbed what our divorce meant to her. She was sad and worried, so we spent most of our time reassuring her that we both loved her. We tried our best to help her understand that the decision was the right one for our family. We let her ask her questions and express her emotions and encouraged her to talk whenever she needed to. After we ended the call, Heide clung to my neck and cried. I held her tight and offered what comfort I could. I didn’t move us from the chair until she was ready. She spent the rest of the night tucked into my side on the living room sofa, eventually falling asleep when weariness overtook her. I carried her to her room and placed her in the bed. I watched over her for several minutes, leaving only when I was sure she was down for the night.
The next morning, we both awoke in somber moods, but stuck to the usual routine. When I dropped her off at school, she strolled into the building with her head up but without a wave goodbye. She didn’t look at me once after exiting the car, and that image had been looping nonstop in my mind ever since.
I snapped back to reality when Robert impatiently called Kathleen’s name. Twice. Robert aimed his seething glare at Kathleen, and her attention was centered on me. I froze as a mixture of wonder, apprehension and an odd dose of longing bolted through me.
The third time Robert called on Kathleen, she registered his command. “S-sorry,” she stammered, dropping her gaze. “I was working on an idea.”
“Work on it later,” he responded, returning to the agenda.
Robert stayed moody for the rest of the meeting. He had his sights set on Kathleen. When the meeting concluded, and the others began to filter out of the conference room, he narrowed his eyes at her and opened his mouth to speak. But I interjected before he could utter a syllable.
“Do you have a minute to speak?” I asked him. “In private?”
Robert took more than a few seconds to look in my direction and answer. When he did, his response was devoid of emotion. “Sure.”
Robert gestured for me to leave the room and he followed close behind, but just as I stepped into the hallway, he turned to Kathleen.
“Wait here,” he grumbled, closing her inside the room. Robert strode past me, moving toward his office. I followed him, relieved to put some distance between father and daughter. I looked back over my shoulder at the closed door. As I passed by the reception desk, Tracie caught my eye and frantically twirled her fingers, telling me to turn back around and follow the boss. I complied, but it wasn’t easy.
When I entered Robert’s office, I shut his door and took my preferred seat in front of his desk. He settled in his executive chair and stared at me with expectation. Knowing that Robert was not one interested in entertaining intricate setups, I got right to the point.
“I need to take some time off over the next few afternoons.”
Robert was moody, and my announcement wasn’t improving the situation.
“For how long?” His voice was gruff and annoyed.
“This week for sure. Possibly next week as well.”
“May I ask why?”
I’d been nervous about posing this request even before the debacle in the conference room. I’d been warned during my first week that Robert did not look kindly on new employees asking for time off. I was risking Robert’s wrath, but I was willing to deal with the consequences. I’d do anything for my daughter.
“My wife has returned to Baltimore,” I said. “We’re getting a divorce.”
On the other side of the desk, Robert’s expression was stoic but engaged.
“Our daughter is here with me and struggling with the news. I want to pick her up after school over the next few days and spend time with her. I need to watch how she’s taking things and, I don’t know, just be there in case she needs me.”
Robert kept his silence, and I shifted underneath his unrelenting gaze.
“I’ll work through lunch and make up the rest of the time when things settle down.”
Robert raised a hand to quiet me and derailed my train of thought.
“Is she still speaking to you?” he asked me.
I blinked as I processed my confusion. “Who? My wife or my daughter?”
Robert hesitated. “Both, I suppose, although I was thinking of your daughter.” A new expression overtook his features—the look of chagrin.
I shifted in my seat yet again, trying to decide how much personal information I should reveal to my new boss.
“She was as of last night,” I managed. “They both were, actually.”
He offered a nod of satisfaction. “Good.”
An awkward silence ensued while I waited for his decision. He drummed his fingers on his desk. One large sigh preceded his announcement.
“You’re new, but you work hard. Take the time you need this week, and we can revisit the matter again on Monday. See where things are at then.”
“Thank you, Robert. If I could, I’d like to say one more thing.”
“What is that?”
“I want to reassure you that I am where I want to be. My decision to stay in Bend isn’t going to change because of my divorce. I may have found Aurora by luck, but I want to make a career here. I still want to build my new life in Oregon.”
Robert studied me. “Do you mean that?”
“I wouldn’t say it otherwise.”
Robert sat back in his chair and tented his fingers. He watched me and then he nodded. “I have a special project in mind. One I’ve been considering you for.” Robert scratched his chin. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
“Let me pitch it to you. If it sounds good, perhaps we can consider this whole thing even.”
“What’s the project?”
“As you know, the firm has its roots in Portland and we like to honor that. Each spring, we hold a luncheon up there. It’s a long-standing tradition and a signature moment. It was my father’s project, and when I took over Aurora and moved headquarters here, the continuation of that luncheon was one of the conditions I agreed to. Although these kinds of things aren’t my area of expertise, I’ve come to recognize its importance to both the company and the family.”
I nodded.
“A few years ago, I passed the project along to Kathleen, and I tasked her to find ways to make it more innovative. She’s done a good job, but I’m curious to see what a fresh perspective could add to the event. There’s seven months to develop new ideas, so I’d like you to co-manage this year’s luncheon with her.”
“I see. How does Kathleen feel about the idea?”
It was now Robert’s turn to blink in confusion. “I haven’t spoken to her about it, but the idea has been on my mind for a bit now. If you’re on board, I’ll tell her today.”
It wasn’t my place to question Robert’s management style, but my instincts were more than a bit wary. There was a distinct possibility that Kathleen wouldn’t welcome my assignment. But, given the options, I believed it would be easier to find ways to assuage Kathleen than to refuse Robert. I didn’t know her well, but she was more reasonable than her father. I took care with my reply, however, offering up what I hoped was a diplomatic response.
“I’m happy to be of any service for the event.”
“Great.” Robert grinned for the first time since the conference room. “You should plan on scheduling a meeting with Kathleen about how to move forward, but let’s talk again on Monday. Use this week to catch up on your current projects and to take care of your daughter.”
When Robert rose from his chair, so did I and turned to open the door. “Good luck with your family, Jack,” he said in a voice quiet full of trepidation.
I wasn’t used to hearing that tone from Robert Brighton, and I turned back around to face him. Although he didn’t say so directly, Robert’s tone conveyed his understanding.
I knew enough of the Brighton family history to realize that Robert had some difficult days raising his own daughter. I took some comfort in the thought that his daughter had stayed by her father’s side professionally, despite what appeared to be some personal difficulties in their relationship.
My thoughts returned to the woman who was waiting alone in the conference room to contend with her irritated father, because of my own personal distractions. She was loyal, hardworking, and a gentle soul. I decided to remind him of her goodness.
“I’m looking forward to working with Kathleen on the luncheon. She impresses me and represents your firm and your family with elegance. She’s the perfect choice to lead this event. Thank you for the opportunity, and please pass along my thanks to her as well.”
Robert offered a curt nod and a quick dismissal from his office.