Read Online The True Father by Steven Anderson Law - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steven Anderson Law
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  I placed a picture of Mom and I at the graduation on the desk of my cubicle, one that she had developed and framed specifically for my new office. Also from the same roll of film, I stuck an unframed photo of Amber and I on the tacking strip that ran across the cubicle wall. And next to the photo of my mom and I, I stood the picture of Jettie that Jodie gave me at the funeral.
  Seeing the photo again made me smile and think of the wonderful time I had meeting my lost family. I still didn't quite know what to think of the inheritance. For some reason I didn't feel like I deserved it, even though Jeremiah felt otherwise, and it was Jettieâs wish. You don't have to be an accountant to appreciate a sudden net worth of almost $700,000. But I've always been the type to want to earn what I have, and I never expected things to be handed to me on a silver platter. Mom, however, was a different story. Wealth and status were very important to her, and she didn't care how she obtained it. I always knew this about her, but for some reason it never really bothered me until now. I guess it was because for so long she was all that I had.
  My first week on the job was almost painless, spending most of my time in orientation and training courses. Rather than concentrating on learning the specifics of the Bennett and Dobbs clientele base, quite often I found myself drifting away, thinking about rodeo buckles, bucking bulls, shots of corn whiskey, a dog named Jezebel, a little white house, an old Ford pickup, Jeremiah's comforting smile, and the tears of Bella Sonoma. But my second week got worse. I was not the Magna cum laude that Bennett and Dobbs had hired. I kept making mistakes with my ten-key, entering the wrong numbers on client spreadsheets, and filing stuff in the wrong place. My cubicle became disorderly, and at one point I became so angry that I violently tore the printout tape off the calculator and slammed my fist on the keypad. I ran my fingers through my hair and cursed as the calculator spit out a tape full of useless numbers.
  An older woman in a neighboring cubicle stood and peeked over at me.
  âMind your own damned business!â I yelled.
  She disappeared quickly.
  I rested my elbows on my desk and hid my face with my hands. I couldn't understand what was happening to me. I felt lost and deprived, as if I starved for something and would lose my mind if I didn't satisfy this hunger.
  I leaned back in my chair and let out a deep breath. I looked closely at the picture of Mom and me, how happy we seemed, but then I remembered who showed up during that photograph.Â
  I looked at Jettie's picture. In the short time I had learned about him I became peculiarly attracted to that cowboy image, and the history of the man that everyone loved.
  I couldn't take anymore and decided to go for a walk downtown. I grabbed my suit coat off a hanger in the cubicle and walked to the elevator. From our office on the eighth floor I went to ground level, and then walked down Tenth Street, across Baltimore Avenue and eventually to Main. I sat down on a bench in an outside food court near the Town Pavilion, a thirty story skyscraper that claimed the status of Kansas City's newest and tallest building.
  I peered up at the skyline of the buildings, observed the many panes of mirrored glass that reflected the sunlight, the blue sky, and the neighboring buildings. This scene made me reflect back to the ranch, and realize how the setting was so opposite. Suddenly I longed again to see the cattle grazing in the pasture, hear the screeching and singing of prairie birds, smell the fragrance of fresh cut hay, feel the wind of the plains blow through my hair, and amazingly the scorching
  I placed a picture of Mom and I at the graduation on the desk of my cubicle, one that she had developed and framed specifically for my new office. Also from the same roll of film, I stuck an unframed photo of Amber and I on the tacking strip that ran across the cubicle wall. And next to the photo of my mom and I, I stood the picture of Jettie that Jodie gave me at the funeral.
  Seeing the photo again made me smile and think of the wonderful time I had meeting my lost family. I still didn't quite know what to think of the inheritance. For some reason I didn't feel like I deserved it, even though Jeremiah felt otherwise, and it was Jettieâs wish. You don't have to be an accountant to appreciate a sudden net worth of almost $700,000. But I've always been the type to want to earn what I have, and I never expected things to be handed to me on a silver platter. Mom, however, was a different story. Wealth and status were very important to her, and she didn't care how she obtained it. I always knew this about her, but for some reason it never really bothered me until now. I guess it was because for so long she was all that I had.
  My first week on the job was almost painless, spending most of my time in orientation and training courses. Rather than concentrating on learning the specifics of the Bennett and Dobbs clientele base, quite often I found myself drifting away, thinking about rodeo buckles, bucking bulls, shots of corn whiskey, a dog named Jezebel, a little white house, an old Ford pickup, Jeremiah's comforting smile, and the tears of Bella Sonoma. But my second week got worse. I was not the Magna cum laude that Bennett and Dobbs had hired. I kept making mistakes with my ten-key, entering the wrong numbers on client spreadsheets, and filing stuff in the wrong place. My cubicle became disorderly, and at one point I became so angry that I violently tore the printout tape off the calculator and slammed my fist on the keypad. I ran my fingers through my hair and cursed as the calculator spit out a tape full of useless numbers.
  An older woman in a neighboring cubicle stood and peeked over at me.
  âMind your own damned business!â I yelled.
  She disappeared quickly.
  I rested my elbows on my desk and hid my face with my hands. I couldn't understand what was happening to me. I felt lost and deprived, as if I starved for something and would lose my mind if I didn't satisfy this hunger.
  I leaned back in my chair and let out a deep breath. I looked closely at the picture of Mom and me, how happy we seemed, but then I remembered who showed up during that photograph.Â
  I looked at Jettie's picture. In the short time I had learned about him I became peculiarly attracted to that cowboy image, and the history of the man that everyone loved.
  I couldn't take anymore and decided to go for a walk downtown. I grabbed my suit coat off a hanger in the cubicle and walked to the elevator. From our office on the eighth floor I went to ground level, and then walked down Tenth Street, across Baltimore Avenue and eventually to Main. I sat down on a bench in an outside food court near the Town Pavilion, a thirty story skyscraper that claimed the status of Kansas City's newest and tallest building.
  I peered up at the skyline of the buildings, observed the many panes of mirrored glass that reflected the sunlight, the blue sky, and the neighboring buildings. This scene made me reflect back to the ranch, and realize how the setting was so opposite. Suddenly I longed again to see the cattle grazing in the pasture, hear the screeching and singing of prairie birds, smell the fragrance of fresh cut hay, feel the wind of the plains blow through my hair, and amazingly the scorching
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