Miller and the Midas Man FOUR HE GAVE HER MONDAY to reflect on and reconsider her hasty decision to ignore him, to think about him and anxiously anticipate his next move. He gave her Monday to miss him—and because he wasn’t sure what he’d do next until Monday evening. Growing up, it had been a joke at his house when his father would reject the title of Principal Hammond in favor of Mr. Jack-of-All-Trades. “It’s not a part-time job,” he used to say. “People call me Principal Hammond whether I’m at the school or not.” Of course, that hadn’t meant much to Scotty until he was older, until he was old enough and wise enough to see that being principal was his father’s vocation, not just his occupation. It didn’t start and stop at the doors of the institution he was associated with. It was who he was, whether he was passing out diplomas at graduation or filling in nights for a sick janitor. Scotty liked the idea of being someone and belonging to something. Being a son, a brother, a husband, a father, and belonging to a family.
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