PART4

He looked toward his assistant, a woman named Karen who had been standing near the raffle table.

“Karen, get the company lawyer on the phone.”

Karen didn’t move immediately.

“Doug, it’s nearly eight o’clock.”

“I don’t care. Call him.”

She pulled out her phone.

I sat down.

Jeremy leaned toward me.

“Mom, please. Let’s just leave. I don’t want any of this.”

I turned toward him.

“Honey, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But everybody is staring.”

“Let them stare.”

His eyes filled with tears.

“She left me, Mom. I know it’s stupid, but I just didn’t want to sit alone tonight. I thought coming here with you would make it less embarrassing.”

My heart broke a little.

I took his hand.

“Jeremy, listen to me. You are thirty-nine years old, and you are allowed to love your mother. You are allowed to be lonely. You are allowed to need someone beside you when life gets difficult.”

He looked away.

“That doesn’t make you weak.”

I squeezed his fingers.

“Never let anybody convince you that kindness is something to be ashamed of.”

He lowered his head.

And then, for the first time that evening, he cried.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just a few tears that he tried desperately to hide.

I put my arm around him.

Across the room, I heard a chair scrape against the floor.

Frank stood up again.

“Jeremy deserves better than this.”

Someone clapped.

Then another person.

Within seconds, several employees were standing.

It wasn’t a celebration.

It was something much more meaningful.

It was people finally deciding not to stay silent.

Doug looked increasingly uncomfortable.

Then Karen approached the stage with her phone in her hand.

“Doug?”

“What?”

“I reached Mr. Harlan.”

“Good. Put him on speaker.”

She hesitated.

“He’s asking whether this concerns the ownership agreement from 1998.”

Doug stared at her.

“What?”

Karen looked at me.

Then back at him.

“He says he needs to review the original documents before making any statements. He also says you should not sign anything or make any decisions about the ownership structure tonight.”

Doug’s mouth opened.

Then closed.

I nodded.

“That’s sensible advice.”

He looked at me.

“Margaret, what exactly do you want?”

It was the first time that evening he had asked me a question without making a joke.

I considered my answer.

I could have demanded money.

I could have threatened to take him to court.

I could have reminded him that twenty-five percent of a successful fabrication company was worth considerably more than the modest little house I had once put at risk.

But that wasn’t why I had stood up.

“I want three things.”

Doug folded his arms.

“Go ahead.”

“First, I want you to withdraw Jeremy’s dismissal immediately.”

He frowned.

“Second, I want a written apology to him. Not an apology to me. To him.”

Doug looked toward Jeremy.

“And third?”

I paused.

“Third, I want you to explain to your employees why you believe humiliating a loyal worker is an acceptable way to lead a company.”

Doug exhaled sharply.

“That’s not a legal demand.”

“No. It’s a moral one.”

He looked around the room.

Nobody came to his defense.

For a long moment, I thought he might refuse.

Then the doors at the back of the hall opened.

A tall man in a dark suit entered carrying a leather briefcase.

Karen turned toward him.

“Mr. Harlan.”

Doug’s lawyer walked quickly toward the stage.

He was in his early sixties, with silver hair and a pair of glasses hanging from a cord around his neck.

He looked at Doug first.

Then he noticed the documents on the table.

His expression changed.

“Where did you get that agreement?”

I raised my hand.

“I brought it.”

He approached and carefully examined the paper.

He didn’t speak for nearly a minute.

Then he removed his glasses.

“Margaret Ellis?”

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly.

“I thought that might be you.”

Doug looked confused.

“You know her?”

The lawyer glanced at him.

“Your father made sure I knew about this agreement when I began representing the company.”

Doug’s face tightened.

“Then why have I never heard about it?”

“Because the original loan was repaid, and the company never needed to exercise the conversion provisions. Your father maintained his relationship with Mrs. Ellis privately.”

He turned toward me.

“Do you still have the original agreement?”

“Yes. It’s in my home safe.”

“Good. We’ll need to review the original and all related documents.”

Doug looked at him.

“Are you telling me she owns twenty-five percent of my company?”

The lawyer took a breath.

“I’m telling you that we need to examine the agreement before anyone makes assumptions. The language appears significant, but its enforceability and the conditions attached to it will require proper legal review.”

I appreciated that answer.

I had never liked people who promised certainty before examining the facts.

The lawyer continued.

“However, there is another issue we need to discuss.”

Doug’s shoulders stiffened.

“What issue?”

The lawyer looked at Jeremy.

“Mr. Lanning, did you formally terminate this employee tonight?”

Doug hesitated.

“I made a statement.”

“Did you communicate a termination decision?”

“I told him to clean out his locker.”

“Was that documented?”

“No.”

“Was there a performance review supporting the decision?”

Doug said nothing.

“Any disciplinary history?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

The lawyer closed his briefcase.

“Then I strongly recommend that you not take any further action tonight.”

Doug looked furious.

But he didn’t argue.

For the next few minutes, the Christmas party became something nobody would ever forget.

The raffle was canceled.

The music was turned off.

People gathered in small groups, whispering about what had happened.

And I sat beside my son, holding his hand.

I wasn’t interested in winning a public argument.

I wanted him to understand that his worth had never depended on Doug Lanning’s opinion.

Eventually, Doug approached our table.

His tie was crooked.

His face looked tired.

“Jeremy.”

My son looked up.

Doug cleared his throat.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Jeremy didn’t respond.

Doug continued.

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART5…