Beg Me-Sold to My Dad's Boss

“And what else?” I asked, my hand deceptively still on the wineglass. “What else about school seems wrong?”

“My classes,” the brunette sighed again. “If the classes were okay, I’d feel better about spending so much on tuition every semester. But they’re not! My professors make no sense, they’re talking about magical realism and negative capabilities and I want to scream, ‘What is this going to do for me in real life? How does this apply in real life?’ I mean, I get it, this has to have some utility later down the road, but right now, I don’t see it, Mr. Jones, I really don’t.”

And I nodded approvingly. I have a four year degree myself but the value it’s added to my empire? I’d say about zero. Yeah, the shit I do at United Electric is about managing people and you can’t learn that in college, it’s about experience, trial by error and being a fair, open-minded boss. This shit isn’t gonna be found anywhere in a textbook, you can’t read about it, you have to live it.

So I took her hand across the table, gentle, understanding.

“Well, if school isn’t right for you, have you talked about this with your parents?” I asked, squeezing her fingers. “Jim and Brenda are forking a lot over for tuition, I’m sure they’d want to know how you really feel, what you’re getting from these four years.”

And Lindy sighed again, her little fingers still under mine.

“That’s the thing, Mr. Jones,” she said quietly. “I’m afraid to tell my parents. Afraid that what they hoped for me, what they dreamed, isn’t panning out. I appreciate all the sacrifices they’ve made, how my dad st-stole from you to help put me through school, but I can’t stop now,” she hesitated. “They’re already spent so much money and that would be wasted, we can’t get that back..”

I enveloped her small hand in a big, warm one.

“Are you sure baby?” I reasoned gently. “Sometimes it’s better to consider it a lost cause, there’s no sense in throwing good money after bad.”

That made her shake her head even more.

“That’s it exactly,” she sighed again. “If Jim and Brenda heard the words ‘lost cause,’ they’d go ballistic. They’d be devastated and I can’t do that to them, I can’t do that to people I love.”

And I understood. Lindy was a good girl, she wanted to like school, wanted to do her best, but was caught in a conundrum because what her parents wanted for her was different from what she wanted for herself. I got it. Sometimes you’re caught between a rock and a hard place and there aren’t any good ways out, there are only okay or bad solutions, but that was part of being an adult and learning how to navigate the waters as well as possible.

“Honey,” I said slowly, “Just think about it more. You have plenty of time, the clock’s not ticking, you’re young.”

“I’m young,” she agreed with a rueful smile, “but the clock’s definitely ticking. I calculated that every day I spend at school costs my parents about a hundred bucks,” she said sadly. “Can you believe it? Imagine what I could do with a hundred bucks per day.”

And I knew exactly what I’d do with that money. I’d give Lindy anything she wanted, hell, one hundred was nothing. I’d open an unlimited account for her, let her use it as she saw fit, I knew my girl wasn’t the type to go crazy and buy a fire truck or anything. She’d use it to find her dreams, to make other people happy, her sweetness and innate goodness overwhelming.

And suddenly I wanted to make it right. Wanted to show this girl how much I appreciated her and with my heart thundering in my throat, I reached into my pocket, clasping my fingers over the velvet box before pulling it out.

“Honey,” I rasped, “I have something for you.”

And slowly, I snapped open the lid to reveal a huge emerald pendant hanging off of a delicate gold chain.

Lindy paused, eyes open in shock.

“Wh-what is this?” she gasped, eyes wide. “What? Why?”

“It’s for you,” I said simply. “I want you to have it.”

And it was true. Usually when I end a relationship, I provide the woman with a consolation prize, expensive jewelry in most cases. Everything just goes down easier, makes the crying stop, the hysterical screaming comes to a halt a lot faster when you’ve got a fifty thousand dollar bracelet on your wrist. So yeah, I’d been planning on sending Lindy off with an extravagant parting gift, but somehow everything had gotten screwed up.

Because when I’d passed the jewelry store, my feet had magnetically been drawn to the door, and pretty soon I was picking things out. Not one item. Not two, but actually five things, I made a giant six figure purchase that day, much to the glee of the salesperson. And when I stepped outside, I was a little dazed because yeah, I’d had Lindy on my mind the entire time, imagining how the precious gems would look draped around that elegant white throat, clasping her wrist, on her finger, or wrapped around an ankle.