Friday, October 2, 2020

Home

      As Mr. Drummel usually did, he arrived home to a late dinner and he and the wife would talk, usually not about work, but they couldn't avoid it that night.

     "I think I ought to call Santos."
     "Uh huh."
     "I think I ought to take it back."
     "How can you?"
     "Just take it back. Say it's okay. Say he can work when he wants."
     "You can't do that."
     "Why can't I? I can do it at any moment."
     "You can do that, but that will be the end of your business. You may as well just walk away from it."
     "It's just a hard time. It won't last forever."
     "But what if it does? You can't expect that things will turn around tomorrow or next week. You've got to be prepared for anything. Not only Santos that works there. You got twelve members of your staff, including your wife and your son, kids, yeah college kids, but they're surviving based on the ten twelve hours a week. They're eating something better than ramen at night because your business is doing okay."

     "Yeah, but I got to admit it: I just can't do it anymore. I can't do it without him. I'm tired. I'm old."
     "Why can't Rafael do it?"
     "You know what you got in Rafael."
     "Have you ever tried? Did you approach him like you approach Santos. Tell him what he has to do? Tell him what he's not doing? You and Santos treat him like a child. He's not a child. He's a grown man. With kids, a wife. You tell him what he's got to do, well then that's what he's got to do, right?"
     "Yeah," he said, but he didn't feel it was realistic.

     "Hire somebody else, then. You don't have it on staff, then you hire for it."
     "Yeah. But I could just call Santos, maybe we could negotiate."
     "You did negotiate. He has a job and you have a business."
     He nodded, and then went back to his food.

     "I guess you're right, dear. I guess you're right."

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