Chapter 4 - What Richard Had Been Hiding
By noon, my phone contained forty-three missed calls.
I answered none of them.
Instead, I made pancakes with Leo in the hotel kitchenette.
He insisted on chocolate chips.
For the first time since Thanksgiving dinner, he laughed.
That sound made my priorities painfully clear.
Whatever happened next, Leo would never again sit at a table where people called him a mistake.
David spent the morning examining the property records.
By afternoon, he called.
“Can you talk?”
I stepped toward the window.
“Yes.”
“We found the permits.”
“And?”
“The work is real.”
My father had converted a detached carriage structure behind the house into a luxury guest suite.
That alone wasn't catastrophic.
The problem was that he had done it without the owner's authorization.
My authorization.
Worse, some paperwork identified Richard as though he controlled the property.
“Why?” I asked.
“We're still determining that.”
I knew someone who might have the answer.
Terrence.
Twenty minutes later, he called me.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Nicole.”
“What?”
He sounded uncomfortable.
“I think we should talk.”
“About?”
“Your father.”
I became still.
“What about him?”
A pause.
“He asked me for money.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
“For what?”
“He said he was developing the rear structure as a rental investment.”
“He doesn't own it.”
“I know that now.”
I stared out at Manhattan.
“Did you give him the money?”
“Part of it.”
“How much?”
“Seventy-five thousand.”
I closed my eyes.
“Does Natalie know?”
“No.”
Of course she didn't.
Appearances.
Always appearances.
“What did Richard promise you?”
“Repayment plus interest.”
“Secured by what?”
Silence.
“Terrence?”
“The property.”
I laughed once, without humor.
“You work in finance.”
“I know.”
“And you didn't verify ownership?”
“He's my father-in-law. He showed me documents.”
“What documents?”
“I don't know anymore.”
That sentence told me everything.
My father had been constructing another illusion.
Only this time, it involved money.
“Send everything to David.”
“Nicole—”
“Everything.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don't know yet.”
That was true.
I wasn't interested in destroying my parents.
But I was finished protecting them from consequences.
Later that afternoon, Patricia finally sent a message that made me respond.
Please let me see Leo.
I stared at it.
Then typed:
No.
Three dots appeared.
I'm his grandmother.
Yesterday you called him a mistake.
The dots vanished.
A minute later:
I was angry.
I replied:
He is four.
Nothing came back.
That evening, Richard sent his first text that wasn't an order.
We need to talk.
I answered:
Tomorrow. David's office. 10 a.m.
The next morning, I arrived before everyone else.
David placed a hand on the conference-room door.
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
Richard and Patricia arrived five minutes later.
Natalie came with them.
Terrence arrived separately.
Nobody hugged.
Nobody said hello.
My father sat opposite me.
For several seconds, we stared at each other.
Finally Richard said, “You humiliated us.”
I almost couldn't believe it.
“That is how you want to begin?”
“You sent law enforcement to my home.”
“My home.”
His jaw tightened.
Patricia looked down.
Richard leaned forward.
“You secretly bought our house.”
“I saved it.”
“You manipulated us.”
“You were losing it to the bank.”
“You should have told me.”
“You should have read the contract.”
Natalie interrupted.
“So you just waited four years for a chance to use this against us?”
I looked at her.
“No.”
“That's exactly what it looks like.”
“If I wanted to use it against you, Natalie, I had four years.”
She opened her mouth.
I continued.
“I paid for a roof repair you complained took too long. I replaced the furnace. I kept your parents’ rent far below market value.”
My mother's eyes widened.
“You paid for the furnace?”
“Yes.”
“The roof?”
“Yes.”
“The drainage work?”
“Yes.”
Each answer seemed to make her smaller.
Richard refused to soften.
“You're enjoying this.”
“No.”
“Don't lie.”
That was when I finally lost patience.
“I spent Thanksgiving night explaining to my four-year-old son that he isn't a mistake because his grandmother told him he was.”
Silence.
Even Richard looked away.
I continued.
“I sat in a car outside a house I bought to keep you from becoming homeless while you locked my child in the snow.”
Patricia whispered, “Nicole—”
“No.”
She stopped.
“You don't get to turn this into a misunderstanding.”
Tears appeared in my mother's eyes.
Natalie folded her arms.
“Mom didn't mean it literally.”
I looked at her.
“And when you asked if I could control him?”
She looked away.
“And when you smiled while Dad threw us out?”
“I didn't smile.”
“You did.”
Terrence stared at the table.
David intervened before the argument escalated.
“We also need to discuss the unauthorized construction.”
Richard stiffened.
“I improved the property.”
“Without authorization.”
“It increased the value.”
“And the attempted financing?”
Richard looked at Terrence.
The room changed.
Natalie turned toward her husband.
“What financing?”
Terrence closed his eyes.
“Natalie—”
“What financing?”
My father stood.
“This meeting is over.”
David remained seated.
“No, Richard. This is the reason we're here.”
Natalie stared at her husband.
“What did you give him?”
Terrence said nothing.
Her voice rose.
“How much?”
“Seventy-five.”
“Seventy-five what?”
He swallowed.
“Thousand.”
Natalie's face went white.
“You gave my father seventy-five thousand dollars without telling me?”
“He said—”
“I don't care what he said!”
Richard headed toward the door.
I spoke before he reached it.
“Dad.”
He stopped.
“What happened to the money?”
His back remained toward me.
Nobody moved.
Finally he said, “I can repay it.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He turned.
And for the first time, I saw something beneath the anger.
Fear.
David saw it too.
“Richard,” he said quietly, “where is the money?”
My father looked around the table.
Then he said something none of us expected.
May you like
“It's gone.”
---
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