Chapter 1

The medium-sized town where I grew up offered limited job opportunities for young people. Some kids mowed lawns while others worked on farms or helped with their family businesses. The lucky ones from wealthy families didn’t have to worry about finding work. I started as a part-time, unofficial apprentice groundskeeper at the age of ten. Of course, I was a “go-fer” for someone who knew what they were doing, and I “went-fer” lots of things.

My desire to seek employment at an early age stemmed from a goal I had set to save for college. Fortunately, Mom heard about a possible opening for a minor from a friend. A widow with a large mansion was looking for someone to help her full-time groundskeeper. My interview took place in her massive house. Her housekeeper, Rebecca, showed me into Mrs. White’s study. After a short interview, I was immediately hired. It shocked me more than my mom.

From that time on, I spent most of my free time helping Frank, the professional who lived in a small cottage on her expansive property. Impressed by his knowledge of plants, I learned all I could while toiling through the manual labor part of the job. We worked well together, and as the years rolled by, my college fund increased at a moderate pace.

Dad’s business schedule precluded him from being home much of the time, which meant Mom attended my school events and activities. It was for the best anyway, as he routinely exhibited a foul mood. I often heard my parents argue at night, when I was in my room studying. He rarely talked to me, and more than once I felt I had said or done something to offend him.

The only exception was when he accompanied me to the bank to open an account to hold my earnings. His approving look boosted my confidence as we began the joint account. As we exited the building, he told me he was proud of my thriftiness and would periodically supplement our account with a portion of his bonuses.

During my years of working, Mrs. White routinely invited me in for a cold drink and snacks. Through our conversations, it was clear she was highly educated and intelligent. She helped me with suggestions for assignments that involved writing papers. The next five years flew by as I attended school, worked, and saved money. My life changed when I turned fifteen.

Finishing my math homework one Friday night, I heard my parents engaged in a loud argument. I cracked the door to hear better. Dad was leaving her, claiming he’d had enough and was going to free himself from their stagnant relationship. She cried and repeatedly pleaded with him to tell her what was wrong, but he kept up his rampage about how he couldn’t stand staying here any longer.

Silence for ten minutes, before I heard a thump and a suitcase latch click. Soon after, Dad spoke in a more controlled voice. “My attorneys have already filed for divorce, and you should be happy. I’m giving you the house plus a quarter of our savings. It’s bad enough I’ll be saddled with child support. I doubt if he’s even mine.”

Mom screamed, “How dare you! You know you’re the father, and how could you have already drawn up papers? How long have you been planning this? Why didn’t you talk to me sooner?”

“Six months or so,” he replied, indignantly. “I was busy at work, so I didn’t have time or the desire to talk to you. I already have another place. I’m leaving.”

Mom cried as she whimpered, “What about Jason?”

Dad’s voice elevated and transformed to a harsh, condescending tone. “Why do you think I was so generous to give you the house? I didn’t want the little bastard in the first place. If I don’t ever have to see his ugly face again, it was worth the generous offer I made you.”

Unable to hold back my own tears, I heard Mom’s angry reply come to my defense. “You bastard! He’s been nothing but a model son. How dare you talk about him that way. Get out. Now! I don’t want to ever see you again.”

“Fine by me, Bitch!” I heard the door slam before his car raced off. Closing my door, I trudged back to bed and had the worst night of sleep I could remember.

The next morning at breakfast, Mom’s red eyes indicated she had the same night of unrest as I did.

When I was ready to leave, Mom tearfully wept, “Your father’s gone, Jason. He left us last night. He won’t be back.”

“I know, Mom. Your voices were loud enough for me to hear. What did I do to make him so mad? Did he leave you because of me? Would he return if I moved into Mrs. White’s house? She has plenty of extra bedrooms, and I think she would let me stay there.”

It was clearly not the right thing to say. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her crying increased in intensity. She pulled me out of my chair, hugging me tightly. She kept rocking and swaying, clinging to me as if I were trying to escape.

“No, honey. You had nothing to do with it. We haven’t been a loving couple for years. Those wild accusations were said to hurt me. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll find a job and we’ll pull through this together. I love you and won’t let anything come between us.”

“Thanks, Mom. It doesn’t seem right that he’s making all the decisions. Why don’t you hire your own attorney? I’m sure you could do a lot better.”

“It’s possible, but I don’t want to drag this out. I’m relieved it’s over. We have enough for us to begin a new life.”

Mom had married straight out of high school and had never been employed. Knowing she didn’t possess any marketable skills, my confidence levels weren’t as high as hers. “I have my college savings. We can use those funds until you find a job,” I offered.

“Your school fund is for your use, not for something like this. I’ll start looking for work on Monday. Let me worry about our future. Now run along and go to your job. Mrs. White will wonder why you’re late.”