Leroy was a tough, self-made man. He didn’t crack under pressure. But he appeared to be doing so now. He’d become nostalgic and reminiscent. Maybe that occurred when you hit eighty. Chase didn’t know.
The only thing he was certain of was that his stomach had become unsettled, the turkey sitting like a lead weight. Something was wrong. He sensed a problem, knew it instinctively, as he had that day long ago when his grandparents had come to tell him his mother and father were dead.
The knowledge that whatever this was couldn’t be as severe as that announcement didn’t necessarily provide comfort.
Leroy sighed. “I’ve been unfair to you, Chase. I realized that a few months ago. You’ve always done everything I’ve asked of you.”
“It’s been no problem,” Chase assured him. “I haven’t minded.”
Leroy exhaled again, as if the conversation pained him. He shifted, lowering the footrest and leaning forward to plant both feet on the floor. He clasped his hands together. “Yes, it is a problem. One I should have stopped long ago. You should have had the freedom to make your own choices. You’ve been trapped into an endless cycle of meeting my expectations.”
Chase’s forehead creased. “You’ve lost me. I don’t meet your expectations?”
“Of course you do. You exceed them, actually. No grandfather could be prouder.”
“So what’s this about?”
“I’ve spent the last few months contemplating my mortality. I’ve always said I’d step down when I hit eighty, but I’ve had a change of heart. I think I’ll stay another year.”
“Well, that’s great,” Chase said, fumbling for the correct words. So that’s all this was about. Leroy was afraid Chase would be disappointed at not being named CEO.
“I wanted to tell you first. I know I’ve been grooming you to take over for me, but…” Leroy’s voice trailed off.
“It’s fine,” Chase said quickly. “Another year is no big deal. I’m actually glad you’re staying. Work’s kept you young. You’d miss it too much.”
“It’s certainly kept me busy, and that keeps my mind off other things,” Leroy corrected. One corner of his lips inched upward in a sad, reflective smile. “No, this isn’t about me. It’s about you, and my failure to do what’s right. I’m not sure being CEO is what’s best for you.”
“What?” The word shot out of Chase’s mouth, propelled by pure shock. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve come to realize that you’ve always been expected to work for me at McDaniel. I’ve groomed you to fill your father’s shoes, without really asking if that’s what you wanted. Remember when you wanted to be a forest ranger? Or a doctor?”
“That’s Chris and Chandy. If I considered medicine, it was a long time ago. I almost passed out after the last company blood drive.”
Chase’s head was spinning. He felt as if he’d been sideswiped. “I love working at McDaniel Manufacturing. I’ve never resented it. I’m happy there.”
“Still, I’ve never given you the opportunity to explore other options. When your father died I assumed you would take his place in the business. I should have given you the freedom to choose your career, like your brother and sisters.”
“I chose business,” Chase protested. “I have an MBA.”
“Only because I expected you to get one,” his grandfather pointed out, unclasping his hands and gripping his knees. “You’ve always done what was expected of you. Life’s too short to live that way. I want you to break the rules. Go forth and have some fun. Sail the seven seas. Hike Everest. See if there’s another career calling your name. I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” Chase said, as the hopelessness of the situation became clear. His grandfather had made up his mind. He’d determined that he’d failed Chase, which meant he was immovable. Leroy was known for not backing down once he’d decided on a course of action.
“I want you to be sure. I’m giving you the next year off with pay. If you decide McDaniel is where you want to be, this time next summer I’ll step aside and you’ll fill my shoes as CEO, no questions asked. But I believe you need time to think. To be really sure your heart is into running the company I built.”
“Of course it is,” Chase insisted.
His grandfather conceded with a tilt of his head. “You say that now, but that’s because you’ve never been truly allowed to make your own decisions. Don’t worry about disappointing me. I’d be more upset if you didn’t take this time to reflect and find out what’s right for Chase, not what’s right for McDaniel.”
“But all the work I do…”
“You aren’t indispensable. It can be handled. We have plenty of people who can cover for you.” Leroy leaned back and kicked his feet up again. “You know, I wish I’d had this opportunity. At twenty I was already running the family farm. Then I started expanding and producing, and your father was born two years after Heidi and I married. Don’t get me wrong. I loved every minute. I just want you to be sure.”
“I am.” Darn Leroy for not seeing that!
Chase wondered if his grandfather might be experiencing the onset of some kind of dementia. That would explain this sudden irrationality.
The older man smiled and got back to business. “You’ll have a year to explore what you want to do with your life.”
“Fine,” he snapped. His grandfather wanted to give him this opportunity. Chase had no desire to take it, but he had no choice. “In one year I’ll be back here and you’ll be stepping aside,” he declared.
“I admire your spunk. You remind me of myself at your age. We’ll see if it’s still what you want by the end of the year. If it’s really what you want, I’ll step aside, as I said, with no questions asked,” Leroy promised.
They fell silent, each lost in thought as they watched a pontoon boat motor by. His grandfather’s announcement had thrown Chase for a loop. He’d expected to be named CEO, not handed a one-year time-out. He’d been banished from the kingdom, so to speak.
“So where will you go first?” Leroy asked.
Chase frowned. That was the worst part of this mandatory sabbatical. His life had always been mapped out. Go to college. Go to work. Become CEO. Now he’d been set adrift. He answered honestly, “I have absolutely no idea.”
Chapter Two
Miranda checked the road map again, trying to figure out where she was. Getting from Chenille to Lone Pine Lake did not involve an interstate, and for the last several miles she’d been looking for Highway A, which according to her directions was just past a big red barn.
So far she’d seen neither barn nor road, and she wished she’d splurged and bought one of those GPS navigators. Since she mostly took the train or the El in Chicago, she hadn’t realized how useful a GPS would be.
As it was, she was a little hesitant about attending today’s birthday bash. But Mr. McDaniel—Leroy, she amended; he’d insisted she call him that—had wanted her to be there for some big announcement he planned to make.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose and readjusted her sunglasses. She hated being the center of attention, and prayed the announcement wasn’t about her. She knew she’d have to get accustomed to the spotlight, especially given her new position.
But that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it. She’d always been a private person, never wanting others to know she