Chapter 23 - MICHAEL'S CHOICE
The Wynn project lasted six months.
Michael finished it.
On time.
Under budget.
Then Wynn offered another.
Michael said no.
Tyler found out from Rachel.
He drove home after spring semester.
Michael was in the garage sharpening a scraper blade.
“You turned him down.”
Michael didn't look up.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Didn't want it.”
“That's not why.”
Michael set the tool down.
Tyler waited.
Michael wiped his hands.
“The first job proved something.”
“What?”
“That I could take work from him without owing him anything.”
Tyler nodded.
“And the second?”
Michael looked toward the driveway.
“That would've been me proving it again.”
Tyler understood.
“You didn't need to.”
“No.”
Tyler leaned against the workbench.
“How's Carter Flooring?”
“Better.”
“How much better?”
Michael narrowed his eyes.
“Why?”
“I'm asking.”
“Suspicious.”
Tyler laughed.
Michael opened a drawer.
Pulled out a folder.
Three new commercial contracts.
A school.
A dental office.
A retirement community.
Tyler flipped through them.
“You're busy.”
“Very.”
“So you're quitting Hawthorne?”
Michael didn't answer.
Tyler looked up.
“You're still there?”
“Two mornings a week.”
“Why?”
Michael shrugged.
“Mrs. Alvarez needs help.”
Tyler stared.
“That's it?”
“That's enough.”
Tyler smiled.
“You like it.”
Michael pointed at him.
“Be careful.”
“You like cafeteria work.”
“I like competent people.”
“You like lunch.”
“I like health insurance.”
Tyler laughed.
Michael finally did too.
Then Michael grew quieter.
“I used to think every job had to lead somewhere.”
Tyler listened.
“Flooring had to become a business. The business had to get bigger. Your basketball had to become college. College had to become something else.”
He looked at his hands.
“Sometimes work is just work.”
Tyler nodded.
“And sometimes?”
Michael looked at him.
“Sometimes it tells you who you are when nobody important is watching.”
Tyler thought about Grant.
Wynn.
Coach Knox.
The cafeteria video.
All the people who had watched.
Then he looked at his father.
“I'm doing summer workouts at Mason.”
“I know.”
“I might not come home much.”
“I know.”
Tyler hesitated.
“Are you okay with that?”
Michael smiled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You asking permission for your own life.”
Tyler rolled his eyes.
Michael picked up the scraper again.
“Go play basketball.”
Tyler started toward the door.
Michael called after him.
“Tyler.”
He turned.
Michael raised his wrapped wrist.
“Try not to make me work into my seventies.”
May you like
Tyler smiled.
“No promises.”
