“But these last few months, especially this summer, you’re like a different person.” She frowned, then shook her head slightly. “No, not a different person. But like a more mature, more confident version of yourself. And I’m not scared for you anymore.”
As annoyed as I was at her lack of reaction, I didn’t disagree with her on one point, at least. I felt more like myself than I had in years, maybe ever. But I did disagree with her on another point. I swallowed and looked down at my bare feet in the grass.
“I’m scared for myself,” I admitted. “I don’t know how much of that confidence was because of things with Phil.”
“Precious little, I’m sure,” she said, tipping my chin up so I met her gaze again.
Her smile wasn’t nonchalant now; it was calming, like a flight attendant catching your eye during turbulence.Don’t worry,that smile said.You’re not about to drop out of the sky.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you,” she said. “As much as it will pain you to hear it, you and I aren’t that dissimilar. And I can tell that you’re growing into the person you’re destined to become.”
It didn’t pain me, actually, to think of myself as being like Mum. Maybe it would have before– when I was a teenager, desperate to prove myself. But I’d seen more of Mum lately. Or at least I’d noticed more. The passion she had for her work. The care she gave to Ethel and to all of us. And the lightness she seemed to embody all the time. I wasn’t sure I’d seen much of that last quality in myself, but I’d found my nurturing side and my passionate side in a way I hadn’t before, and I was proud to come by it honestly.
“Thanks, Mum,” I said, smiling weakly, and I meant it. “But whilst that’s all well and good, Phil still didn’t want me. Not the version of me I was years ago, and not the version I am now.”
Mum pressed her mouth into a line as she considered this, letting a slow breath out through her nose.
“I have a sneaking suspicion that all this has a lot less to do with you and a lot more to do with Ethel. Especially after what happened at family dinner when we brought up the holiday.”
I knew she was right. But that didn’t make it any easier.
“But still…”
I trailed off, not sure what to say. But still, he didn’t want to try? But still, I was part of that area of his life, too? But still, how was I supposed to see him and hear about him if I couldn’t be with him?
“Still, you have us,” Mum finished for me, and I smiled.
“Still, I have you,” I agreed. And I did.
But that didn’t make the Phil-shaped hole in my chest close up any faster. And eventually, I would need to figure out how I could keep having all of them without being with Phil. Because as much as I needed them– Mum, Dad, Jack, Morgan, Chloe, all of them– Phil needed them too. Probably even more than I did.
* * *
Dad triedto push back our big meeting in the name of “giving me some time”, but I immediately changed it back in the diary, not wanting to give him an excuse to kick the can down the road. As hurt as I was, I was also raring to go at work. So I threw myself into preparing for the big proposal, making up for the time I’d spent wallowing by putting in a full week’s worth of work in just three days.
When the day came, Dad brought Jack, along with his foremen Jerry and Luke, into the house for the meeting. Dad sat in his usual chair in the lounge, the others on the sofa, all facing the TV so I could deliver my presentation. Jack smiled encouragingly at me the whole time, but Dad kept his face neutral if a bit stern, and I had to rely on all the work I’d put in over the past three months to win him over.
The plan was straightforward enough. Dad was taking on more and more jobs with increasing amounts of overlap, so I was suggesting a professional license of the project management software I’d been trialling. The business was also growing financially, and with Dad eyeing retirement and the admin burden bigger than even I could manage, we needed an integrated cash flow, payroll, invoicing, and P&L system. This would mean paying for software that could handle all of that, as well as paying for the integrations between that and the project management tool so we could automate it.
“Sounds expensive,” Dad said, and I clicked immediately to the next slide I’d prepared, which covered the costs. I tried very hard not to look smug, but I must have failed, because Dad narrowed his eyes at me.
I’d taken the amount we would save by not outsourcing payroll and accounting, then scaled that up to reflect the thirty per cent increase in revenue Dad wanted to achieve in the next three years. After removing the amount we’d still need for end-of-year filing help, the remaining savings more than covered the cost of the solution I was proposing, as well as my own salary. It all meant we wouldn’t have to turn down work because of the admin burden,andwe wouldn’t have to hire anyone else on the admin team to help us manage it. This meant Dad could focus on hiring skilled tradespeople instead, and still have profit to spare.
“Or…” I said, interrupting the impressed nodding the foremen were doing. Dad still looked inscrutable, but he wouldn’t for long. This next bit was the least important suggestion for the business, but I was pretty sure it was the most important for him.
“Go on,” he said, nodding.
“Or you could start a formal apprenticeship programme,” I said, clicking to the next slide. Covering the screen entirely was a photo of Jack using the circular saw, Dad watching over his shoulder. I remembered that day perfectly; it was shortly after Jack had moved home, right after Dad had agreed to take him on. Mum had been so proud that she’d snuck out to the workshop to watch them for a while through the window, snapping the photo when neither of them was looking.
“As you all know, trade careers have become less and less popular with young people over the years. As a result, finding junior workers and apprentices is harder than ever. And as a family business with a reputation for excellence, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be leading the charge with the next generation of tradespeople.”
“Agreed,” Dad said. “But it’s a lot of work, otherwise we’d have done it already.”
“I can help,” I said, moving to a breakdown of my time. “If I come on full-time, I would be able to manage the new admin systemsandhelp with the apprenticeship programme.”
Dad read over the slides as I spoke– I’d thought about the budget needed to promote the programme, the additional wages he would need to pay to be more attractive than office-based apprenticeships, and the extra workload of training and assessing them. It was risky; I was showing my cards that there wasn’t actually a full-time role’s worth of work in managing the systems I was recommending. But I hoped he saw the vision enough to bite.
