“I know,” I whispered, “but I’ll figure something out.”
That night, I wrote my resignation letter. The next morning, I walked into Mean Boss’s office and handed him the letter.
“You’re quitting? Over a vacation?” he asked, shocked.
“I’m quitting because I won’t work for someone who doesn’t value his employees’ lives. My grandmother is dying, and I’m not missing my last chance to see her.”
He scowled. “You’re throwing away a good job over sentimentality?”
“No,” I replied. “I’m choosing my family over a job that treats me like a machine.”
He leaned back. “You’ll regret this, Mindy. Good luck finding another job that pays as well.”
I paused at the door. “Some things are worth more than money.”
Over the next two weeks, Mean Boss tried to guilt-trip me into staying, but I stood my ground. On my last day, Jen rushed over with wide eyes. “Mean Boss can’t find anyone to cover your work next week!” she said with a grin.
I smiled. “Karma.”
A week later, I was sitting on the beach with my grandmother, holding her hand as we watched the sunset. She smiled softly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Grandma,” I replied.
As we sat there, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Jen: “Mean Boss is pulling 16-hour days trying to cover your work. He looks exhausted.”
I chuckled, tucking my phone away.
“What’s funny?” Grandma asked.
“Just a little reminder that sometimes, doing the right thing has its own way of working out.”
And as for Mean Boss? Let’s just say he finally learned the importance of valuing the people who work for him.