A Winter Dream

Chapter


Thirty-one


This month I’ve seen the fulfillment of two dreams.

Joseph Jacobson’s Diary





My reunion with my mother was beautiful. She had never believed the story she had been told about my disappearance. She knew something bad had happened to me—she just didn’t know what. And she never stopped praying that I would return home. “This is the greatest day of my life,” she said, kissing my face. “The absolute greatest.”

I made her promise that she would not hold what had happened to me against my brothers. She promised, but begrudgingly. “That doesn’t mean I trust them,” she said. “That, they’ll have to earn back.”

I spent Christmas in Denver. As joyful as I was to be home, my heart was still hurting. Being so close to Utah was difficult. I fantasized about flying to southern Utah and looking for April. But that’s all it was—fantasy. As creative as I was, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the ethics of the situation, let alone the practical problems. How do you find someone in a polygamist colony?

I told my mother about April.

“Time will heal,” she said. “Time will heal.”

My last night in Denver we had a family dinner at Mataam Fez, an authentic Moroccan restaurant on Colfax where you sit on the floor and eat with your fingers. (After I left Colorado, my father had dropped Giuseppe’s from his favorites list.)

On December 30, I flew from Denver to Chicago and stayed in the Monaco Hotel just a block from the Leo Burnett Building until I could find an apartment. Mr. Ferrell arrived that evening, and on New Year’s Eve we began the first of our meetings with the CEO of Leo Burnett Chicago, Mr. Edward Grant.

Mr. Grant was, of course, aware of the work we had done in New York and was eager to get the Chicago team plugged into our program. Being New Year’s, the agency closed at noon, so after just two hours, we began winding down so we could introduce Mr. Ferrell to the creative teams. As we were getting ready to leave Mr. Grant’s office, he asked why I had left Chicago. I told him the truth. When I finished, Mr. Grant paged his assistant. “Get me Holly in H.R.”



Shortly after our meeting I went down to visit the creative directors on their individual floors, leaving Mr. Ferrell and Mr. Grant behind. I stopped in the energy room for some popcorn, then went to see Kim in front of Potts’s office. She was working intently on her computer and didn’t notice me standing at her desk.

“I thought they would have let you out on good behavior by now,” I said.

Kim’s face was animated with excitement. “J.J.!” She jumped up and came around her desk to hug me. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting the old neighborhood.”

“It’s so good to see you. How is New York?”

“New York was . . .” I paused to find the right word. “Interesting. But I’ve been transferred again. I’m back in Chicago.”

Kim was so excited she hugged me again. “I’m so happy for you. This is so exciting.”

“What’s so exciting?” Potts asked, walking from his office. I turned to face him.

“I think she means I am, Peter.”

He froze at the sight of me. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m coming back.”

“Not on my watch you’re not. I don’t know how you got here, but I guarantee you won’t last here more than a week.”

He didn’t see Mr. Grant and Mr. Ferrell walk up to us. “Never guarantee what you can’t deliver, Peter,” Mr. Grant said, his voice angry but controlled.

“Mr. Grant . . .” Potts said. Then he turned to Mr. Ferrell, genuflecting. “Mr. Ferrell, it is such an honor to meet you. Your work, the Florence Initiative, is sheer genius.”

“You should tell that to the man who made it happen,” he said, turning to me. “I believe you’ve met Mr. Jacobson, our new Global Chief Creative Officer for Leo Burnett Worldwide.”

Potts looked like a man who had just been convicted of double homicide.

“Unfortunately,” Mr. Ferrell said, “from what I just heard, it sounds like you have a problem working with him.”

Potts flushed. “No. Not at all. Things are good,” he said, turning to me. “Everything’s good, right?”

“Not everything,” Mr. Grant said. “As you know, Peter, Leo Burnett is proud of the work we’ve done in creating an egalitarian work environment. We’ve worked hard to abolish the traditional models of corporate hierarchy and elitism and replaced it with cooperation and teamwork.

“I just spoke with H.R. It would seem that our way of doing business is very much at odds with your practice of what I’ll call for lack of a better term, personnel exiling. For that reason we’ll be making some changes. Timothy Ishmael will be your replacement as senior creative director.”

Peter looked panicked. “Please don’t fire me.”

“We’re not firing you,” Mr. Grant said. “We have a wonderful opportunity for you in New York. In fact, it’s the very same opportunity you gave Mr. Jacobson, and look how that worked out for him.” He winked at me. “And I’m told that you’ve already met your new manager, Leonard Sykes.”

I finally understood the dream I’d had in New York. And Leonard’s broken pots.