Hashing it Out

"I have an idea," I began slowly, because I knew this might go over like a lead balloon. "I think you should try and refrain from going to the business at all Monday through Thursday. You can check in, and of course if there's an emergency...stop by. But I think you need to focus on going to the Academy, getting home, doing whatever homework they might want you to do, and then getting the right amount of sleep. When you get off the train on Friday, that's when you go directly into the business. Spend all night if you have to; if you need to finish something, you can even go in on Saturday."

There was an almost imperceptible nod. No words coming from his direction.

I plowed ahead. "You're only at the Academy Monday through Friday. That way, once you're done with the Academy, you can focus on the business. Partition your life a little; the reason it didn't work the last time was because nothing was compartmentalized. I realize the business isn't open on weekends, but that's when, if you need to, you can go and get stuff done. I can even help you out a little if you need to...I can do payroll." I offered this because that was a concern he had the last time. The truth was, I had absolutely no interest in ever helping out or getting involved with the family business---just a little too close for comfort---but I was willing to do it if it would help him get through.

Nod, nod.

"Whaddaya think?" I waited with the proverbial baited breath.

"I think you're right." Pause, breath, another nod. I began to wonder what he was taking in. "I just gotta wait for this guy to get back to me."

He had called his liaison and was now playing the waiting game once again.

"Okay, well, you've got time to mull it over." I shrugged. For me, this wasn't rocket science. But I realized it was a struggle for him, and I was determined to help in any way I could. I didn't want to be married to that guy---you know the guy---the one who was retired from some mediocre job, hanging out on the couch with a beer, drowning himself in regret, and fighting over taking out the garbage, all while watching cop shows on TV---I didn't want to be married to that guy thirty years from now.