A Family Man Page #5

I spoke with your wife

earlier.

Your son's initial response

to chemo is...

less than encouraging.

Meaning what?

We should discuss options

still available to us...

Still available? "Still"?

Gene therapy. Using viruses

to alter Ryan's T cells

and attack the cancer.

I've had excellent success

in a handful of cases

using measles,

the common cold...

You want to treat

Ryan's cancer

with, what... measles?

HIV. An engineered form.

We're not in some

third world country... no offense.

This is Chicago. We're in

a state-of-the-art hospital!

What do we need to do to

in the realm of non-bat sh*t

treatments-to turn this around?

Cancer is not a negotiation,

Mr. Jensen.

Goodnight.

So, focus on his

multiplication tables.

Try and make a game out of it.

Okay.

Ryan knows what to do

with these worksheets.

Shh, shh, shh! Quiet study.

Here we go.

When you...

If you need more,

I can always

send them home with Lauren.

This is from all of us.

Thank you. Okay.

Okay, sweetheart.

Okay. Let's talk about

the Continental Congress.

Who can tell me what that is?

Excuse me.

Whose paper towels are those?

They belong to the class...

Could we maybe put them

someplace else?

Mrs. Jensen, they're just...

I know that the kids need

Kleenex, I just...

don't think they need

to be on Ryan's desk.

Mrs. Jensen, no one's

using the desk.

Uh, sweetie, do you have room

in your own desk for these?

- Hey, give me that.

- Uh...

Take it easy, lady! Geez!

Keep your sh*t

off my kid's desk!

Okay.

Good to go, little man.

What's going on?

Where's he going?

209, South LaSalle.

Come on,

let's get you inside.

"Completed in 1888,

"the Rookery was designed

by architects Burnham and Root.

It's the oldest high-rise

still standing in Chicago."

Dane Jensen. Wyatt!

Talk to me, babe.

Sure they've got problems

at the plant,

is there a manufacturing company

in America that doesn't?

Dad?

Wyatt? Yeah, hold on a sec.

Thanks. What's up, buddy?

Daniel Burnham?

One of the guys who designed

this place? He said this:

"Make no little plans,

they have no magic

to stir men's blood."

Cool.

Stir men's blood!

Wyatt? Yeah, listen...

Yeah, I was having lunch

one day in Talladega with

Richard Petty when... Yeah,

that Richard Petty. Anyway,

King Richard says to me:

"Make no little plans, Dane,

for they have no magic

to stir the blood."

Well, I'll tell you

what it means.

It means if you want to

continue

to work a safe comfortable job,

then by all means stay at Rycon.

But if you want a challenging

position,

one that will not only

define your career,

but define you as a leader

of men, then this...

THIS... is your chance!

Well, of course

if the money's right.

Forget who you're talking to?

Wyatt?

I'll call you back.

Mmm! Mom, I think our boy's

doing 100% better today.

Some days are good, some days

are bad, but today...

Is a good day.

That's right. So, did they

bring your lunch up for you yet?

Uh, no.

My dad's coming.

Okay.

I asked him if

we could go somewhere.

- Nice.

- Did you want to come, Mom?

No. No, Nathan needs

to see his mother.

Besides, it's you

and your dad's thing.

Are you gonna be okay

if I get going?

Your dad

will be here any minute.

Sure.

Do you know

how much I love you?

My first baby.

You made me a mother.

You taught me

how to be a mom

to Lauren and Nate.

I'll be okay, Mom.

What?

Of course you will!

Silly.

Have fun.

You closing a deal without me?

Huh? Michigan Avenue

ain't coming to us.

"The Tribune Tower,

"designed in 1922

by Howells and Hood."

Huh. Listen, Rhino: "more

than 100 rock fragments"

from famous sites around

the world are embedded...

"into the walls of the Tower."

Look! The Alamo.

Look, Edinburgh castle...

Taj Mahal... Great Wall of

China? Are you kidding me?

Is that one from

that building in New York?

Sure enough.

Where were we

when that happened?

We?

You weren't even born yet.

Someone heard a plane

hit the Trade Center.

We thought it was an accident.

Until the second one.

We all stood and watched

on a TV in the conference room

as the towers fell.

Were you sad?

For the people

in the buildings, yeah.

For little boys like you...

who wouldn't see their moms

and dads again.

Do you have to go

back to work now?

Yeah... I do.

Okay, last but not least.

So nice. Oh,

wait, wait. Hold on.

I thought it would be nice

if we went around the table

and everyone

could say something

that they're thankful for.

- Oh, that's a great idea.

- You know, it's Dane's house.

Why don't you go first?

Yeah.

Well, I'm, uh,

thankful for...

Excuse me.

What a cornholing.

Wow, is she reaming your ass.

I've probably got

another fifteen.

You don't want

the job? That it?

Yes, yes, I want the

job, Ed.

You like working a desk then.

You've got roughly four weeks.

Fond of you or not,

I'm voting with my wallet,

we clear?

Yeah.

- How's our boy?

- He's good.

Thanksgiving?

Why didn't you ever marry, Ed?

Have kids, do

the whole family thing?

I know me. I know I'm

the most interesting person

you've ever met.

And the most selfish.

I only want what I want.

- Ever regret it?

- You mean like

when it's Thanksgiving

and I'm here at the office...

talking with fucknuts...

instead of being surrounded

by people who give a sh*t?

Yeah, maybe... But then again,

you're not flying to Manhattan

with a $5,000-a-night Brazilian

who's gonna turn your suite

at the Carlyle into

a sexual Slip 'n Slide.

See ya on Monday, kid.

I had to

take it... Ed.

No, you didn't.

It's Thanksgiving.

To Ed it's Thursday.

To you it's Thursday!

We're your family, Dane! Those

people in that room! Not Ed!

This is my chance

to get off a desk, Elise.

This is the job...

I am so sick of your

"this is the job" excuse!

Well, fine! You don't want me

to work so much? Great!

After dinner, we'll put

your resume together...

and you go get a job!

Hmm? "Elise

Katherine Jensen!"

"Ten years' experience

as a stay-at-home mom!

Skilled in potty training,

play dates, and Pinterest!"

Oh yeah, the job market's

just gonna snap you up!

Hey, maybe you can go down

to St. Cecilia's,

see if they'll buy

that "Doctor Mom" bullshit...

and put you on the payroll.

Then you can spring

for the cranberry sauce,

or the white quartz

you just had to have,

or the clothes you wear,

or, or the ten grand "loan"

we gave your brother

two years ago...

that he seems to have

forgotten about.

Hell, Elise, look how lucky

we are; we don't ever have

to tell the kids there's

no Santa...

because as long

as I can magically continue

to pull the mortgage out

of my ass,

I'm Santa f***ing Claus

365 days a year!

I lost the month, Elise.

I took October,

lost November.

Driving around Chicago,

touring buildings

instead of closing deals.

Now I've got December to get

Ed's job,

and Christmas to New Year's

is a deal-killing nightmare.

I'm sorry that you think

I've taken you for granted.

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