I thought of calling my mother and asking her to help me out, but she's done enough for us already. Kimberly was out of the question. Lisa would have been my first choice, but she wasn't speaking to me. Theresa wasn't available full-time. I'd have to go part-time. I still had three weeks of paid leave left. If I split it up, maybe I could stretch it long enough to find a better long-term solution. I didn't know if the firm would go for it, but it was my only shot.
Realizing that was my only option, I went down the hall to talk to my boss.
“Cole, I understand you’re going through a rough patch, but you have to figure this out and fast.” Smith was pacing behind his desk after I explained my situation and the solution I’d proposed.
"I understand, sir. That's why I'd like to work part-time for a few weeks. I know it will set me back, but you know I can handle the workload, and once I find a more permanent solution for CJ, I'll be back full-time."
“Yeah, until the next crisis. I hope you don’t think because your father was a partner at this firm, you can ask for special treatment.”
"Sir, I've never asked for special treatment, and I'm not asking for any now. I'm not my father, but if he were in my situation, I'm sure he'd make the same choice. I have the paid leave, and I don't have any other option. I'll work from home. I'll do whatever I need to do."
"Cole, you're good, very good. You're smart, resourceful, and you have a good work ethic. But I'll be honest, since this whole kid thing, your performance has been subpar. Cameron wants to give you time, says you'll bounce back, but now you're pulling this crap. You know, legally, I can't stop you from taking the rest of your leave, and your willingness to go down to part-time shows your eagerness to pull your weight. Plus, you're Cameron's golden boy… Do what you need to do, but you're on probation. One more fuckup, and I'll have HR send up a stack of the dozens of applicants who’d love to take your place."
I worked overtime to school my expressions and keep my face as passive as possible, but I wanted to throat punch Smith. He couldn't handle half the shit that's been dropped in my lap in the last two months. I cut my leave in half. I was the first one in the office every day. I bust my ass until the minute it's time to pick up CJ and work from home. I've never fucked up. I'd cleaned up a couple of his messes, but mentioning that wouldn't win me any trophies.
“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick.” Smith seemed to get a sense of my displeasure. “You have a lot of potential. You could go really far with this firm, farther than your dad. You could be an equity partner. But you have to be here, Cole, not playing Mr. Mom.”
“Equity partner, huh?”Dad laughed as he bounced CJ on his knee. “Smith really said that shit?”
"Language!" my mom called from the kitchen.
“Yup.”
“They said the same sh—” Dad shot a quick glance over his shoulder. “Mess to me, knowing damn well they were never gonna make my Black ass an equity partner.”
“Reggie!” Mom called again.
Dad rolled his eyes. "They only made me a salaried partner when I threatened to walk and take my clients with me. They were using me, and I used them right back. The bench was always the end game. I still can't believe Smith is a partner."
“I didn’t know you were there at the same time.”
"I only knew him for a few months. He was an arrogant little prick then, too. He was rude to me the first time we met, then once he found out who I was, he spent the rest of my time at HC kissing my ass."
Mom stormed into the sitting room, muttering under her breath, snatched CJ from my father's hands, and walked back into the kitchen without looking at us. Dad's eyes widened, and his lips pursed in a hilariousI’m in troubleexpression that made me chuckle.
"So, you coming to poker night this week?" Dad and his buddies had a semi-regular Friday night poker game that I'd been attending since I was eighteen. My brother RJ used to come, but the social aspect of poker night didn't really appeal to him. He also used logic and reasoning to play and very seldom lost, which kinda sucked the fun out of playing with him.
He preferred blackjack because he was good at counting cards, and that was fun for a while until Dad caught us on a family trip in Vegas. He explained to us that counting cards was illegal, which put an end to our card sharking careers. RJ had a solid sense of right and wrong. There was no middle for him. I actually loved that about him and wish I could be more like him. However, that was not something I appreciated when I was eighteen and stuck in a hotel room on punishment and spending the night losing at blackjack for hours to my fourteen-year-old brother.
"No, I'm too tired to even think about playing poker, and I'm gonna need all my money to pay for nannies and daycares."
“Son, you gotta find a way through this. What is your goal here?”
"My goal?" I knew he was gearing up for one of his lectures, and usually, I hung on his every word, but my brain couldn't absorb one more piece of information.
"You have to have a goal, kid. What are you reaching for? Where are you going? Right now, you're just existing. Barely making it through the day so you can get up the next day and do it all over again. That's a life that's going nowhere, and one day, soon by the looks of things, you're gonna hit a wall."
“I guess my goal is to become a judge.” I shrugged.
“That’s it. To become a judge.”
I nodded.
“Why do you want to become a judge, Cole?”
The first answer that came to mind was that I wanted to be a judge because he was a judge, but I knew that wasn't the answer he wanted. The truth was I idolized my dad. He always seemed to know the right thing to do. He always had the answers. He was strong and brave. I knew that if I followed in his footsteps, I could be those things, too. Even when I struggled, I knew everything would work out because I had someone leading the way for me, showing me the path. Several moments went by, and I still hadn't answered him.
“Did I ever tell you why I wanted to become a judge?”
