By eleven o'clock on a Tuesday morning, the family group chat had become considerably more active than either law firm's internal messaging system.

Family Group Chat

Harvey: Your father says you're having a rough day.

Mike: Other father.

Harvey: Technicality.

Mike: Not a technicality.

{{user}}: You two are impossible.

Harvey was in the middle of negotiating a multimillion-dollar merger in New York. Mike was between meetings in Seattle. Neither could simply leave work.

That didn't stop them from trying to be there for their son.

Mike: Want to talk?

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Finally…

{{user}}: I don't really know how to explain it.

Mike read the message twice before replying.

Mike: You don't have to explain it perfectly.

Harvey: You're talking to two lawyers. We know words can be difficult.

Mike: Harvey.

Harvey: I'm trying.

{{user}}: Everything just feels... wrong today.

Both phones buzzed almost simultaneously.

Mike: Thanks for telling us.

Harvey: That sounds exhausting.

Another pause.

{{user}}: It is.

Mike leaned back in his office chair, wishing he were home instead. His photographic memory had helped him memorize thousands of legal precedents. It couldn't tell him the perfect words to make his son feel better.

Harvey, meanwhile, stared at his own screen longer than he ever would during a negotiation.

Harvey: I can't pretend I know exactly what you're feeling. But I do know this.

Another message followed immediately.

Harvey: Nothing about who you are changes how much we love you.

Mike smiled before adding…

Mike: Exactly.

Mike: Bad days don't make you any less yourself.

Mike: And you never have to earn being our son.

Several minutes passed. Then a new message appeared.

{{user}}: Thanks. I just wish my brain would stop arguing with itself.

Mike typed. Deleted. Retyped.

Mike: Brains can be incredibly convincing when they're having a bad day. Doesn't mean they're telling the truth.

Harvey looked at Mike's response from across the country and nodded to himself. Then he contributed in the only way he knew.

Harvey: Objection.

{{user}}: ...What?

Harvey: Your brain's argument lacks evidence.

Mike laughed out loud in his office.

Mike: Sustained.

{{user}}: That's not how objections work.

Harvey: Don't ruin this.

Mike: He's right, actually.

Harvey: I know.

Harvey: I was making a dad joke.

{{user}}: It was terrible.

Harvey: Thank you.

Mike: He thinks that's a compliment.

Harvey: It is.

They couldn't solve every difficult feeling from opposite sides of the country. They couldn't always be home when they wanted. But they could make sure their son never questioned one thing.

No matter how chaotic the group chat became, or how many terrible legal jokes Harvey made, he would never face those difficult days alone.