Things have been getting a bit tense between Arthur and Harrington again. The business is doing well, and Arthur is doing good work, but as Harrington has grown accustomed to Arthur’s presence around the office, he has become more officious. In his turn, Arthur reacts badly to nearly every order Harrington gives him. On Friday I was worried that he would snap at his father, and though he managed to hold his tongue, both of them felt the strain. Neither of them said a word to the other for the rest of the day.
To be honest, I do not think this is Harrington’s fault, as I feared might be the case. I have kept a guard on him to be certain that his interactions with his son are no more presumptuous or commanding than those with his assistant or his mechanics. The difficulty, which I did not foresee, is on Arthur’s side. Adolescence seems to get to one’s head sometimes, and Arthur’s head is a bit thick with it now. He has been doing good work, such good work that Harrington is beginning to think he underestimated his son. His compliments, and Arthur’s own assessment of his work, have been feeding Arthur’s pride, something that makes me particularly anxious.
I admit I was not especially confident in my own ability to puncture a swelled head. It was a pity I could not bring my fire woman into this! Freya would have Arthur sorted out in a moment. But there was someone else I thought of consulting, and I am glad that I did.
When Arthur arrived at the office after school this afternoon, Jared was at his desk typing up an email. He stopped, however, when I brought Arthur’s arrival to his attention, and called the boy into his office.
“Your dad tells me you’re doing a good job, Arthur,” Jared said when Arthur had taken his seat and set his backpack down.
“Thank you, sir,” Arthur said, smiling at the praise.
“What have you learned so far?”
“Oh,” Arthur said, thinking quickly, “well, I used to think that starting a business was one big step, but it’s actually a lot of little ones—zoning approvals and meetings and interviews with the bank and discussions about location and improving facilities…” He shook his head. “It’s important to keep track of it all. My dad has a lot of lists.”
“He does,” Jared said with a laugh. “What else?”
“Well, I’ve learned to keep organized, that’s for sure.” This was somewhat acerbic; last week Harrington gave Arthur a light reprimand for how messy his desk was. “How to file, how to make phone calls and take messages, how to use spreadsheets—all kinds of things.”
Jared considered him. “And what would you say is the most important thing to take care of in your business?”
“Um…” Arthur was sharp enough to recognize that this was the question that would lead into Jared’s purpose for calling him in, so he put some thought into it. “Your money, I guess. Dad was saying the other day that you have to invest if you want the business to grow, but you have to be careful about it.”
“That’s true,” Jared agreed, “but there’s something more important than money.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that the point of a business?”
“No,” Jared said. “The point of a business is people, Arthur. We’re here to serve customers and to give our employees a living wage. Without good people who trust us, without good people who can work well together, your money is worthless.” He slid his chair back from his desk a little bit. “So when there’s something wrong between two of your employees, you need to deal with it before it gets ugly. And that’s even more important when two of the employees live together.”
The professional mask was gone from Arthur’s face; he hunched his shoulders, frowning at the front of Jared’s desk. “What did my dad say to you?”
“Nothing, actually,” Jared said, “but I can tell something’s up. Mike says you two are very tense. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.”
“We wouldn’t be here if that were the case, Arthur.”
I had chosen well with Jared. He was kind, but firm, and nothing would do but Arthur tell him the truth.
“I just don’t like the way my dad’s been talking to me lately,” Arthur finally confessed. “He keeps talking to me like I’m a kid and I don’t know what I’m doing. I do know what I’m doing, though. He interrupted me on the phone with a neighboring mechanic to tell me something else to tell him—something that was already on my list, I just hadn’t gotten there yet. And last week he got onto me for misfiling one file, one! He’s bossing me around like I’m an idiot.”
“I know for a fact that Harrington does not think you are an idiot,” Jared said. This was true; Harrington has been reporting to Jared that he is very impressed with his son’s work. “But as to bossing you around, I’ve got news for you, kid: he is your boss. He gets to do that.”
This was infallible logic, but Arthur still didn’t like it. His mouth set tight and he looked away.
Jared sighed. “Look, Arthur, you’re doing a great job, but the fact is that you don’t have a lot of experience. Harrington has actually been giving you a lot of leeway that, frankly, I wouldn’t have yet. I wouldn’t have let you talk to a potential employee so soon, myself.”
Arthur looked up, a faint worry coloring his aura.
Jared read his expression and waved one hand. “Don’t worry, you didn’t get your dad in trouble. I’m trusting him to run this business and I’ve had no reason to regret it yet. I just want you to realize that your dad has put a lot of faith in you.” Jared leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. “Speaking as your father’s friend, and not just his boss, I want you to know how important this job is to Harrington. Ever since his accident, he’s been worried that he couldn’t take care of you and your mom. This is a better position than he ever dreamed of, and he wants to protect it. That’s probably why he’s hovering over your shoulder.
“But you are important to him, too,” Jared went on, his voice softer now. “He’s doing his best to respect you now for the person you are, rather than just his son.” He shrugged, getting to his feet. “The least you could do is give him the same respect.” He walked around the desk and set a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Think about it, okay?”
Arthur certainly did, for the rest of the afternoon. Jared had spoken well—I had needed to give him little guidance, for he has seen all of this himself. He is a good man, and a good friend.
As Arthur drove Harrington home that evening, he took a few tries before he could get the nerve to speak. “Dad?” he said.
Harrington was surprised; Arthur had been very quiet all afternoon. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been kind of a brat lately.”
Harrington considered how to answer. He couldn’t deny it, but I suggested that it might be unwise to confirm it. So he simply said, “Well, I accept your apology, son.”
This, it seemed, was enough. The two of them spent the remainder of the drive in peaceable silence, and at dinner tonight both were cheerful and easy with one another. Arthur has resolved to do better, and Harrington is relieved that all is right again between him and his son.
If only it were always this easy to cope with the growth of pride.