I’m sitting in my Uncle Daryl’s office, and it looks the same as it’s looked every other time I’ve been in here. The nautical theme is strong, and there’s a giant crab pinned to navy blue and white striped walls. Every empty surface is covered. It’s sort of like a museum of all the bay-themed tchotchkes that Chesapeake Shores has sold over the last thirty years.
There’s coffee brewing on the side bar behind his desk. And there are two giant blue crab mugs just waiting to be filled.
Soft rock plays in the background.
A clock, and yes, the arms are crab claws, hangs over the doorway, and there’s a giant anchor hanging on the office door with the words Cap’n Daryl emblazoned across the front.
The only discernible difference between this visit and all of the others is that my uncle has just told me no.
Daryl never tells me no.
And, yes, I guess that makes me sound like an asshole, but it’s true.
My uncle doesn’t have any children. And I’m totally his favorite. Well, okay, Bets is probably his favorite, but she’s everybody’s favorite, so that doesn’t count.
But favoritism aside, Daryl has always been good to me and my sisters. He’s my mom’s older brother, and it’s fair to say he shares her terrible taste in home and office decor and also her big heart. When we were kids, he spoiled us all rotten. So, when he told me last spring that he needed my help at Chesapeake Shores and that he wanted to take the whole store online, I couldn’t say no.
And yeah, I’m an elitist geek, so I thought that taking a store digital would be a cakewalk.
Silly me. He’s been stalling for months. Every time I bring it up, he has another reason why it has to wait. But now I’m ready to get off the ride, and Daryl’s having none of it.
My uncle is a technophile with very little actual acuity, so I’m his right-hand guy. And because I make all of Daryl’s techno-dreams come true, I can do pretty much whatever I want.
Well, anything but quit, apparently.
“You’re refusing my letter of resignation?” I ask (again). I’m seriously about ten seconds from yelling, “I’m telling Nan!” and running out of the room.
“Not refusing, not really. I will accept it. I don’t want to, but legally, I don’t have a leg to stand on, so yes, I will accept it. Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Yeah. Probably…” He’s scanning his phone, presumably looking at the calendar. “Probably February?”
“February? Daryl, I’ve agreed to give you my three weeks, according to company policy… That takes me to the holidays, roughly. Look, I’ll help you interview for my position. In fact, Dan’s been doing a great job and…”
“Dan’s good, but he can’t do what you do, and I need you.”
I feel like Batman for a second, and though it’s a lovely thought, I shake it off. I can’t stay here. Can’t get stuck here. Thanksgiving weekend was long and a little lonely, if I’m being truthful. My family is fine. The food was fine. Football was fine. But, if I’m being honest, it was all a little lacking. It’s like Elaine shined her light on everything and then, just as quickly, whisked it away, leaving me in the dark. And that’s crazy. Her absence shouldn’t be wreaking this kind of havoc on my life.
I need to move on. Drew’s ready, sure, but so am I. I’m ready to leave Chesapeake Shores and throw myself into our app. And Daryl knows this. It was part of the deal when he enlisted my help last spring: I could leave when I was ready, and I had to call him Daryl at the office. He knows that I’m not in it for the long haul, and yet, here he is, standing illegally in the path of my exit.
“Daryl, Dan is very competent. And if he’s not ready, we can interview people. I have a few friends I can recommend. I can help you. I’m not going to leave you high and dry, but I am leaving.” Ok, the words are harsh, but what’s he going to do? Fire me?
“I’ll be your investor.” Daryl’s words cut through the air.
Say what now? “Ok...and the only catch is that I have to work here until February? I feel like I’m missing something…”
There has to be a catch. Yea, Daryl’s got more money than he knows what to do with, and he’s been really generous with me and my sisters, but investing in this venture is going to take some serious dough.
An hour later, I walk out of my uncle’s office with our final investor and a huge ass headache.
AFTER MY TALK WITHEv on Thanksgiving, I know he’s got a point and that I need a face-to-face with Simon, if only to apologize. I treated him poorly, and there’s no excuse for that. I owe him that much, no question; I just wasn’t sure he’d grant me the opportunity to do it in person, and I wouldn’t really blame him for that. But the stars have aligned, and the angels in heaven can clearly see that I have a hateful hag of a mother, and so, they orchestrated a little something to put Simon right in my path.
When Daryl summoned me earlier this week, I figured it was for my annual performance review. That usually takes place in January, but still, late November is kind of close to January… So color me surprised when Daryl told me about his plan to accelerate our move to a digital format.
So here I sit in the conference room on Simon’s floor, stirring my flavored coffee. Don’t worry, my laptop is safely plugged in on my desk. I decided to go old school, so I’ve brought along a legal pad and a pen. I do my best thinking with a pen in my hand. Plus, as we know, my coffee and I are hell on laptops.
Simon walks in looking like a man on his way to his own execution. He takes a seat across the table from me and promptly places his laptop directly in front of him, blocking my view completely.
