June, 1998
Michael sat on the living room couch watching TV, though he wasn't paying much attention. Seconds after his father had left him on the balcony he'd followed him and told him he'd take his old job back. It had been an impulsive decision, but the more he thought about it the surer he was that it was the right one. He could already feel some of the stress of the last year starting to lift knowing that soon everything would be returning to normal. Now he just needed to tell Tracey. He wasn't looking forward to it—she could get vicious when she was angry, and this was certainly cause for anger. He hadn't told her at the party or on the way home, not wanting to start a fight in front of George Michael on his birthday, but now they were home and as soon as Tracey finished reading George Michael his bedtime story he was going to tell her.
The door to George Michael's room opened and Tracey came into the living room.
"Well, another birthday done," she said, sitting next to him on the couch. "I think it was a success."
"Yeah, me too," he agreed, turning off the TV.
"He loves the lightsaber toy. Good thinking on that one."
Michael laughed. "Thanks," he said. Tracey winced and touched her stomach. "Stomach pain again?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Maybe you should see a doctor."
"No, I'm sure it's nothing."
"Alright," he said. He had to tell her now, but how should he start?
"I think I'm going to go to bed early, I'm feeling kind of worn out from the party," Tracey said, getting up.
"Oh, okay," Michael said, caught off guard. Maybe he should wait until morning? No, that would make it even worse. "Wait," he said as she put her hand on the doorknob.
"What?"
"I, uh, I need to talk to you about something."
"Um, okay," she laughed confusedly. She returned to the couch and sat back down.
"So, I was talking to my dad at the party," Michael said anxiously. "And he offered me old my job back. I told him I'd take it."
"What?" she said. "You're not serious."
"I know how you feel about me working there, but—"
"You're in law school! You're going to be a maritime lawyer!"
"I know, I—I don't think I'll go back to school in the fall, it's a waste of money when I already have a job."
"You didn't even discuss this with me, you just decided to go ahead and do it?"
"I'm sorry, it's just, it's the right decision—"
"You call him right now and tell him you changed your mind!"
"Keep your voice down, George Michael will hear."
"I don't care, just call him!" she said furiously, though she did lower her voice.
"We can't just keep pouring money into this—"
"We've already spent so much money on this! And all the time you've put in—you can't let it all be for nothing!"
"I'm sorry, I should have never done this, but it will be even worse if we do another three years."
"Why? You don't want to put the work in, it's too hard for you so you're quitting?"
"No, that's not why!" he said, stung. "We need to save for George Michael's education, and pay off the student loans we already have. We can't be adding more when I already have a job. And my dad said he's going to retire soon and make me CEO."
"Oh my god," she said, burying her face in her hands. "He said that? He actually said, 'I'm going to make you CEO?'"
"Well, he hinted at it," he said. She laughed derisively. "I shouldn't have said 'hinted,' it was clear that was what he meant," he quickly added.
"Don't you see? He just wants to control you again! If he was actually going to make you CEO he would tell you. He won't say it so you can't hold him to anything."
"I think he's just trying to make sure I don't take it for granted so I keep working hard. He's always said I would run the company someday. And even if he doesn't, he's still going to retire soon and I won't have to work for him anymore, and I'll have a good, stable job and we'll save sixty thousand dollars."
"And twenty thousand completely wasted!" she said furiously. Michael recoiled. He'd gotten so caught up in the argument he'd forgotten that he really had no moral high ground here. Tracey leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. "You told me law school was what you wanted to do," she groaned. "That's the only reason I went along with it."
"I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it, he wanted so much to undo this whole thing.
She sighed. "Okay, fine, go back to the Bluth Company. I don't want to hear you complaining about work again, though, this is your choice."
Michael blinked. He hadn't realized his complaints had bothered her. It had just been nice to have someone to vent to. "Yeah, I—I won't," he stammered.
"Okay. I'm going to bed now," she said, and got up and left the room.
