Page 14 of Technical Advances

“Well, yeah. I included a summary of the dissertation with my resume everywhere I sent it,” I emphasized, “and we went over it when Anson interviewed me.”

“Anson interviewed you himself? Son, I looked him up after I talked to his mother.” I wasn’t surprised that Dad had done so after our last talk. “Do you know how big that company is and how much he’s worth?”

“Vaguely, Dad. But that’s not why I want to work there. It’s not really about the money or even the success of the work. It’s about the importance of it. I mean, I think I’m being paid fairly. More than fairly, really, but this project! Dad, it’s going to be incredible if we can figure it out, and I have no doubt Anson Day can figure it out!”

Holy shit. Talking to Dad was making it sink in that I was going to be working with the founder of New Day Tech on his next big project.

“Or, I guess, I mean, Anson and I will figure it out. Dad, this is everything I’ve dreamed of since I was twelve years old. Please be happy for me.” I was getting amped up, pacing back and forth between the little kitchen island and the small dinette that my roommate and I mostly used for working, hardly ever for eating.

He interrupted me before I could enthuse about it some more, and I was surprised when I heard him choke up a little. “Don’t get me wrong, son,” he said on a long sigh. “I am so proud of you, Benji. Following your dreams and everything. I know how hard you’ve worked since you got to MIT, and I know that you’ve already accomplished amazing things there.” I could tell my dad wasn’t finished with his thought, but he hesitated before concluding, “But doesn’t it seem odd that the owner of a billion-dollar company interviewed you personally?”

Remembering Erin’s surprise at that very thing, I agreed. “I guess so. Now that you mention it, I don’t think it was planned. Maybe it’s down to him knowing you, or maybe it’s because our research was so similar, but I am going to be his personal research assistant, so I guess it makes sense that he interviewed me.”

“And you shared your project with him? How similar was this work you shared?” Why did I feel like a child being scolded and grilled at the same time?

“I did. And he shared his work with me.” That part seemed really important.

Dad sighed again. It had been a long time since one of Dad’s sighs had sounded like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Since my mom died, I was his world, which meant that sigh was usually reserved for me. I really hated hearing it.

“Please don’t be concerned, Dad. This really is everything I’ve ever wanted. And it’s going to be great. I can tell already that Anson and I …” I wanted to say that we understood each other, that we were able to finish each other’s equations and sentences after knowing one another for five minutes. That we just got each other. That being in a room with him was like being in a room with nonstop fireworks made up of the code we needed to finish Project Orthos, but all of that seemed very much over-the-top and not helpful to my cause.

“… we click, Dad. We are going to make great research partners. That’s why he interviewed me, and that’s why he hired me.”

If an image of that cherry table and Anson’s long hair hanging loose over it flashed into my brain, I kicked it right out. I was talking to my father, for fuck’s sake, about my very serious and professional scientific future.

“I just worry about you, Benji. I worried when you were little, and I worried again when your mom died. Hell, you know, when I think about it, I used to worry about you like I worried about Anson when we were kids. You’re so smart, and I know that sometimes that was hard for you, like it was hard for him. I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of you because of your skill and knowledge. That’s your work and your project.”

“Dad, you don’t have to worry about me. I promise. Small-town Arizona might not have been the best place for kids like Anson and me, but I found my people here at school, and heck, Anson must have found his people with Beck when they created New Day. You don’t have to be concerned about him either. When we were working together, I could just tell he’s doing what he loves. Creating amazing tech that helps people. Sure, it’s also tech that makes him and Beck lots of money, or whatever.

“And now I get to do that too! I mean, the creative part. The money, that’s just a bonus that will help keep me from being distracted while I’m working. I’m being treated fairly, Dad. I promise. More than fairly.” I shared my salary.

“Shit, kid, that’s way more than a year’s worth of really good renovation projects would net.”

“You can’t tell anyone, Dad. I signed some kind of nondisclosure agreement. I don’t think I’m allowed to share details.”

Dad’s hmm sounded very heavy, like I hadn’t at all convinced him that my new job was the best thing to ever happen to me. He’d just have to see for himself when he came for graduation.

“So you’re taking the job?”

“Duh, Dad. I already did.”

“Duh. Is that a scientific term?”

“You know it.” I chuckled at his joke and as I did, tried to ignore that we both sounded forced.

“And you’re going to live in Boston?”

“Yes!”

“Massachusetts? With the snow and the crowds and the sports and the lack of parking?”

“And the home offices of New Day Technologies!”

Dad sighed, then his demeanor finally changed.

“It’s not going to snow at graduation, is it?” I was glad our serious talk was over, and that we could go back to planning his trip to Boston. I hoped Dad making a joke meant that I didn’t have to further justify my decision, and that whatever his concerns were, he was over them, but I wasn’t so sure. I decided then and there that the best way to convince Dad he didn’t have to worry about Anson was to introduce Dad to his old friend. His uncommonly handsome, smart, rich, and not-at-all age-appropriate childhood friend. Also known as my boss, Anson Day.

“Dad!” I laughed.