I returned home shortly before noon.
Jeremy's truck was parked outside.
He was sitting on my front porch.
When I opened the door, he stood.
"How did it go?"
"Interesting."
He followed me into the kitchen.
I placed my purse on the counter.
Then I explained what Thomas had said.
Jeremy listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he looked at the envelope.
"So the agreement might still matter?"
"Yes. But the attorney needs to examine everything."
Jeremy pulled out a chair.
He looked tired.
I poured him some coffee.
He thanked me.
Then his phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
I noticed his expression change.
"Who is it?"
"Frank."
He answered.
"Hello?"
I couldn't hear Frank's voice clearly.
But I could hear that he was speaking quickly.
Jeremy listened.
Then he looked toward me.
"Okay. I understand."
He ended the call.
"What happened?"
"Frank wants me to come in Monday morning."
"For what?"
"He says they're reviewing what happened at the party."
I nodded.
"Did he say whether you're still employed?"
Jeremy shook his head.
"No. He said nothing has been finalized."
I disliked that answer.
But at least someone was finally examining the decision.
Jeremy sat back.
"Mom, I don't know if I even want to go back."
I looked at him.
"That's something you can decide after you know where things stand."
He rubbed his forehead.
"I spent nine years there."
"I know."
"I thought I had a future there."
I didn't answer immediately.
There were things a mother could fix.
A broken fence.
A bad meal.
A difficult afternoon.
But I couldn't give my son back the confidence he had lost in that banquet hall.
I could only remind him that Doug's opinion wasn't the measure of his worth.
"You were a good employee before that evening," I said. "You're still a good employee now."
He nodded.
Then he looked toward the window.
"I keep thinking about those people laughing."
I sat beside him.
"Not everybody laughed."
"Enough people did."
He was right.
And I wasn't going to tell him otherwise.
Later that afternoon, I received a call from Thomas.
He had reviewed the photocopy again.
He wanted me to bring the original agreement to his office.
He also wanted any old correspondence I might have kept.
I went upstairs and opened the small cabinet in my bedroom.
Inside were old family photographs, insurance papers, and documents from the house.
I found a brown envelope.
It contained several letters from Ray.
I had forgotten they were there.
The first was dated shortly after the financing was approved.
Ray had thanked me for trusting him.
The second was written a year later.
He described the first machines he had purchased.
The third was sent after the company hired its fifth employee.
I sat on the edge of the bed and read them.
His handwriting was unmistakable.
He had written about how difficult the first year had been.
He had mentioned working late.
He had mentioned a customer who nearly canceled a contract.
And in one letter, he had written that he hoped one day the company would be large enough to provide steady work for dozens of families.
I folded the letter carefully.
That was what I remembered about Ray.
He hadn't talked about becoming rich.
He had talked about employing people.
I placed the letters inside the envelope.
Then I found the original agreement.
It was stored separately in a protective folder.
I didn't unfold it completely.
I simply checked that it was still intact.
It was.
I returned everything to the cabinet.
That evening, Jeremy came back into the kitchen.
He had been looking through old photographs.
He held one in his hand.
It showed Robert standing beside Ray in front of the first workshop.
The building looked terrible.
The paint was peeling.
The windows were dirty.
There was an old truck parked near the entrance.
Both men were smiling.
Jeremy looked at the photograph.
"Is that the first shop?"
"Yes."
"And that's Dad with Ray?"
"That's right."
He stared at it for a while.
"How come I've never seen this?"
"Your father kept it in his desk."
Jeremy turned the photograph over.
There was a date written on the back.
1998\.
He gave a small laugh.
"That building looks like it was ready to fall down."
"It nearly was."
He smiled.
Then his expression became serious.
"Mom, do you think Doug knew how much his father depended on people?"
I looked at the photograph.
"I don't know, honey."
Jeremy put it back on the table.
I thought about Ray's letters.
The photograph.
The old agreement.
And the company that had grown from that little workshop.
Somewhere along the way, the business had become much bigger.
But the story of how it started had apparently been forgotten.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: On Monday Morning, the Same Men Who Had Watched Doug Humiliate My Son Were Waiting to See Whether He Would Keep His Word
My Son Asked Me to Attend His Christmas Party Because He Couldn’t Bear Another Holiday Sitting Alone
Part 10 of 20
