Chapter 2 - MICHAEL NEVER USED MY MONEY
Michael could have lived very differently.
That was the part Richard never understood.
I was not born wealthy.
I grew up outside Worcester in a two-bedroom house with three brothers.
My father repaired boilers.
My mother worked nights at a nursing home.
At eighteen, I became an electrician.
At twenty-four, I started doing industrial electrical work for warehouses and marine terminals.
One employee became four.
Four became twenty.
Then we moved into infrastructure contracting.
Ports.
Cold-storage facilities.
Freight terminals.
Utility systems.
By the time Michael was born, I owned a company with projects across New England.
By the time he reached college, I had sold a majority interest and moved most of my money into infrastructure and industrial real estate.
The company carrying my name disappeared from public view years ago.
My holding company did not.
Warren Harbor Group.
Most people outside the industry had never heard of it.
That suited me.
I still drove my truck.
Still wore leather jackets.
Still hated ties.
Michael grew up knowing we had money.
He also grew up knowing it was mine.
When he graduated from Tufts with an engineering degree, I offered him a job.
He declined.
“I want to know whether I’m good without you.”
That hurt my pride for about twelve minutes.
Then I realized I had raised exactly the kind of man I wanted.
He joined another firm.
Started at the bottom.
Rented a one-bedroom apartment in Somerville.
When his car died, I offered him mine.
He bought a used Honda instead.
When I offered to pay off his student loans, he said:
“You already paid for half my tuition. Let me do something myself.”
So I did.
People sometimes assume wealthy parents either spoil their children or make a performance of withholding help.
I tried not to do either.
If Michael needed me, I was there.
If he wanted independence, I respected it.
Then he met Jessica.
She worked in landscape architecture.
Smart.
Funny.
Much less impressed with wealth than her father was.
Michael did not tell her how much I was worth during their first months together.
Not as a test.
Because he did not lead with it.
When she finally learned I owned businesses, she assumed I was comfortable.
That was enough.
Apparently Richard made the same assumption.
May you like
Except Richard decided comfortable meant ordinary.
And ordinary, in his mind, meant insufficient.
