Page 81 of The Write Choice

Turns out after step one, step two is easy. I write up some new plans for how things are going to work around here. Jasper is going to take over as lead architect on the Leade Park High School project. Thalia will assume the role of senior architect, while I shift fully to my leadership role. Frankly, I’m glad to step away from the project, even though it’s unfinished. It’ll still be my responsibility to review and approve final plans, but I won’t have any more involvement in the design process. To say Jasper is happy would be an understatement. He’s so grateful, he’s even willing to agree not to give Thalia any more shit about her work hours.

And speaking of work hours, I draft a memo that will go out after my parents’ stating that I’m excited for this new role, and I know I’ll do a good job. I also write that I will be leaving the office at five every day, and any non-emergency communication will be returned the next business day. I hope that this will begin to create a new culture here, where people have time to spend with their families and don’t burn themselves out.

My final act of the day is to send an email to Jamie in HR, making her aware that I’ll be filing a formal complaint against Orlando and Marianne. They won’t be fired, but it’ll only take one more strike. Hopefully, this will be the reminder they need to get themselves back on track, but we’ll see.

It’s still early when I finish, but everything else I need to do can wait. It’s Friday, anyway, so it feels like a good time to get out of here. Katie should be picking up the kids from school right about now, and above all, I want to be with them. I want to cook dinner and tell Katie everything that happened today. I want to play with the kids and make her roll her eyes. I want to give her time to work on her paintings—or, her book, I suppose—if that’s what she wants.

I snap my laptop shut and shove it in my bag. I glance across the way. My parents’ office light is off, which makes me chuckle to myself. I waste no time putting on my coat and walking out, wanting to be sure I beat rush hour traffic.

By the time I pull in the driveway, I have a whole romantic speech ready to sweep Katie off her feet, and I am determined to deliver it, even if I’m interrupted twelve times by tiny humans in the process.

When I come into the house, I can hear the television from the living room. I frown; it isn’t like Katie to let the kids watch TV right after school. Then again, I guess I haven’t been home for the after-school routine in so long, I don’t know what they do now.

I hang up my coat and walk further in the house to see Mason and Christine sitting on the floor, their eyes glued to some cartoon on the screen. Katie is belly-down on the couch, her arm hanging off the edge and her eyes barely open.

“Um, hi everyone?” I say cautiously. No one moves. I try again, louder. “Hey! I’m home!”

Mason is the first to peel his eyes away from the TV. “Dad!” He jumps up and runs over to hug me.

Christine is slower, but she follows. “Dad! Dad! Mama’s sick!”

I glance at Katie, who is rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hand and trying to get up. “I see that.”

Katie groans and flops back on the couch. I walk around to kneel on the floor so we’re closer to eye-level.

“Can’t move. Everything hurts.”

The kids start chasing each other around the living room, squealing at each other. Katie winces. I run a hand over her forehead to find her much warmer than usual. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Told you yesterday I felt sick,” she mumbles.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I’m trying to hide my concern, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of it.

“Dunno.” She closes her eyes. “Please make the kids stop screaming.”

“Right.” This springs me into action. I jump to my feet and corral the kids. “Everyone, upstairs.”

“Dad,” Mason whines, but I shush him quickly.

“Nope. Upstairs.” I march up behind them as I pull my phone out of my pocket to call Daniel.

He answers on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Oh thank god. I have a huge favor to ask. Katie is sick. Can you and Mac hang out with the kids for a while? Order dinner or something? I don’t care. They’re loud and she needs to rest.”

“Who’s that?” Mason asks.

I move the phone away from my mouth. “Uncle Daniel.”

His face immediately brightens. He practically vibrates with excitement. “Can we sleep over at his house? Please Dad? Please?”

Christine, probably unsure what we’re even talking about, jumps right in. “Pweese Dad?”

“No, buddy.”

“We can take the kids tonight. I’ll come get them now, and we can do breakfast here tomorrow morning. It’s not a problem,” Daniel is saying.

I push the phone back to my ear. “I can’t ask you to do that.”