I fight to keep my voice even. “I get it, Dad. I understand that I can’t do anything to change your mind, so I’m not going to try. I’m going to do my job. I’m going to do it as well as I’ve been doing it. I’m going to keep supporting Sami because she is talented like you wouldn’t believe.”
I lean forward. “Remember how I used to go out to the clubs all the time in college? And in high school any time I could sneak in before that? You always thought it was about drinking. But it wasn’t. It was about the music. It was about how I connected with it, about how it could make me feel when other things couldn’t under the weight of your expectations.”
The need to make him understand when I know he can’t is so strong that I surge to my feet to pace.
“From the second I saw Sami onstage, before I even knew it was her, something in me came back to life. I’ve felt likemyselffor the first time . . .” I pause to consider it. “For the first time ever. I am a guy who wants to help this firm grow. I want to contribute to the family business. I want to be worthy of the opportunities I’ve been given. But I also want to be real, spend time around live music, show up to support my girlfriend who is a next-level talent. I’m not going to choose, so if that’s what you were hoping to hear . . .” I shrug.Not going to happen.
“I know you feel like you gave me a chance here after law school,” I continue, “but you didn’t. Not really. You’ve been waiting for me to fail since I started. I screwed up. I know it. But it won’t happen again. I’m going to figure out what I have to offer here, and I’m going to give my best on every account you assign me to. But I willalsobe there for Sami.”
It won’t be easy. I’m going to have to cut hours by about ten a week, and my dad will only see that as further proof I’m slacking, not that I’m balancing the ways to show up for people in my life. But he was never going to see the truth anyway.
“Josh, you can’t be at the clubs every night drinking and at the firm every day trying to represent us to clients who pay us more than your yearly salary to be the best in the business.”
I rub my hand over my face. This is pointless. “I’ll be at Sami’s shows, Dad. As often as she has them. I will also be at work, prepared and on point. You let me know if you have any future concerns about my performance.”
Then I walk out, closing the door on him calling my name.
“Ihatethaty’allaren’t getting along,” Sami says.
We’re sitting on my balcony, Sami tucked between my legs and resting against my chest, a blanket wrapped around both of us as we watch for owls and bats.
“It’s whatever,” I say. “I was stupid to think I was going to change his mind by coming to work at the firm.” I give a short, unhappy laugh. “Not that anywhere else would have hired me.”
“Is that still true?” she asks. “You don’t think another firm would take you now?”
I think for a bit. “Maybe? I think I’ve impressed enough people over the last three years that I could make the jump to another firm.”
“Would you ever want to?”
I resettle her against my chest. “I don’t know. I never thought I’d like business law, but I do. Not always what I’m doing with the firm, but I’ve gotten to work on some interesting things. I wish there was a way to make it so every case I get is interesting. Like talking over contracts with Luther and learning how deals are negotiated in the music industry. But I’m not at a point where I get to pick and choose, and I don’t think that magically happens when you switch firms.”
“Could you ask your dad about bringing on more music clients?”
I shake my head. “To do right by them, they really need experts. It would mean opening a whole new area of practice for the firm, not picking up clients here and there. More likely, it would mean going to another firm where they have an established entertainment law practice.”
“Would it make things better or worse for you not to work with your dad?”
“Asking the hard questions tonight.”
She shrugs, and I like the friction of her small shoulder against my shirt. “I know what it’s like to be in a job you want to love or even used to love, and now you don’t. If making a change will fix it, make a change.”
“Another rough day at Sunnyside?”
“We lost two patients. And I couldn’t get a family member on the phone for either of them to let them know. I had to do two bed-to-wheelchair transfers because we were shorthanded on support staff again, and now my back is killing me. I had another pointless phone call with the regional director today, arguing for higher CNA and orderly wages.”
She sags against me. “I hate that I’m burning out, but I’m burning out. They warned us about it constantly in nursing school. I don’t want to be a statistic, but it’s starting to feel inevitable.”
I consider this. “Could you still get a nurse to cover you if you take a few days off to relax and work on music?”
She twists to watch me over her shoulder. “With enough notice.”
I pull her back against me. “If I could find you a secluded place to work, free of charge, so you could sleep and eat and write music for a few days, would you want to?”
She stiffens slightly. “Josh, I don’t think I’m ready to—”
“I won’t be there,” I clarify. “I have to work. But there’s no reason both of us need to burn out. Take a break. Give your music some uninterrupted attention.” I squeeze her shoulders, and she relaxes again. “You’re getting signed soon. You’ll want new songs to give them.”
Still, she hesitates.
