Tarnished

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Tarnished Page 12

by Erica Chilson


  “We discussed divided loyalties at our last session, remember.” Willa points at Amery Smythe.

  “I was bound by Attorney Client Privilege, Royce.” Amery looks about ready to burst from his skin. “I learned the details when I vetted Donny’s defense team. Donny wouldn’t speak to them unless I was present. There are things I wish you knew, but I cannot speak of them. I apologize for both Willa and myself, as she had to sign a gag order. The only person who can tell you is Donny himself, or if you figure it out on your own. But Willa and I can’t speak of it.”

  “Well… no harm, no foul.” A bitter laugh is torn from my chest, and a table-full of my family looks at me like they’re worried for my mental health. “Okay, so a lot of harm and foul. But the good news is that I am now the trustee of one-hundred-percent of Dad’s settlement. When Donny is released, I’m hoping to put a cap on the amount he can draw off his Trust at any given time, as he obviously isn’t fit to manage his own money.”

  “That has already been written up and put into place after I learned the nature of the attack and the events leading up to it. Donny himself specifically asked for it, and appointed you as his trustee for life.”

  “Donny’s forty-four years old?” Bren looks around. “So he’s gonna have to beg for his money from you like I have to? An allowance? God, that would suck ass.”

  “Bren?” Willa gains my son’s attention. “The grandchildren are down nearly three million dollars by Donny’s misappropriation of funds– your funds, not his own. With more than half of his Trust gone.” Willa opens her hands and mouths, “Poof!”

  “To Sean,” I whisper underneath my breath, ready to curl around the nearest trash basket and empty my gut.

  “What–if–how–why–” Wynn stammers, trying to wrap his head around something, getting angrier by the second. “If Hayden and Hayley have money to their name, then why the fuck was Willa on welfare?”

  “I was not on welfare,” Willa snarls at her brother. The Gillette erupts in both of them. “Not that there is anything wrong with welfare if you need it. But I’ll have you know, child support was taken from the Trust on a monthly basis for Hayden and Hayley’s welfare based on our living situation. I gave that money to you to pay the bills because you were the only person I could depend on. It came straight from Royce.”

  “Why live in that shithole, Willa?” Wynn’s rage lessens the more distraught Willa gets. “Why do that to yourself?”

  I rest my hand on Willa’s back to soothe her, but she flings me off. “Don’t touch me when I’m angry,” Willa bites out between gritted teeth. “I don’t want to associate your touch with anger.”

  “I understand,” and I do.

  “You don’t get it.” Willa sits up straighter, eyes narrowed at Wynn. “You remember who I used to be and how I am now, and have glossed over who I was for nearly four years. When I got out of the hospital, Royce wasn’t fit to help me, and I wasn’t selfish enough to take his time from Bren and Kaden.”

  “But why come home to Momma and Daddy.” Wynn’s voice warps into a whine as he tries to understand. “Why, Willa?”

  “I was safer there. There are things I can’t discuss. But no one was going to target toddler millionaires in the hollers. No scam-artist drifters were gonna cross our daddy’s boundary line and survive. I know there’s more out there,” she says cryptically. I freeze, realizing Sean didn’t live to spend that stolen money yet it’s still gone.

  “I do and I don’t get that, Sis. But–”

  “Did you forget how I was catatonic? They wanted to commit me but Daddy wouldn’t let ‘em. Worthless drunk or not, Daddy was protecting me and my children the only way he knew how. Have you not noticed how the only people I interact with are people I’ve known my entire life.” Willa taps Kade on the tip of his nose. “I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you. Got it? Even when I volunteer, I’ve got to take Royce with me. I trust y’all because I knew you from before, before when I was able to think straight. Now I doubt strangers, and want to crawl underneath the table and hide.”

  “Willa?” Wynn reaches out, trying to grab his sister’s hand, but she won’t let him have it. “I remember your screams. Nobody can fake that.”

  Wiping tears of frustration off her face, Willa pours it all out. “I was on so many drugs– prescription drugs, not the kind you assumed I was on. Even today, when I see a Seroquel commercial, I want to pass out. My choice was zombie or horrific nightmares where I saw Hayley in my place and Hayden in Royce’s, and I couldn’t survive it. Warren would get me– get me stuff he shouldn’t have so I could feel alive for all of five minutes before my psychotropics took over and zombiefied me.”

  Willa rolls into me, resting her head on my chest and wrapping her arms around me. I allow her to hide. My arms automatically secure around her so she feels safe. I nuzzle her hair with the tip of my nose and squeeze her.

  “I’m sorry,” Wynn mouths, looking on the verge of tears. “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s not your fault, son,” I murmur gently. “It just is what it is.”

  “Do we need to change anything on Brennan, Hayden, and Hayley’s Trust?” Ignoring our emotional breakdown, Amery gets us back on track, bless his heart.

  “No.” I shake my head against the top of Willa’s. “The twins are getting an allowance like the rest of their peers for doing chores and whatnot. Bren’s share isn’t to be touched until it matures. He has his own we use for his expenses.”

  “As I thought,” Amery mutters absentmindedly, reaching for another file. I place the kids’ files into the box. Done. “Now on to Donny… do you wish to decrease, increase, or stay the same on his commissary funds?

  “Increase by three hundred. Last month when I visited, Donny was very depressed.” I blink away the vision of my brother’s devastated face. Seeming to not age, my brother reminds me of a small boy begging me to help him because he has lost his way and can’t see in the dark. Gaunt and thinner than I remember, it hurts to look at him.

  “Is Donny speaking with you?” Amery sounds surprised.

  “No, we do our thing where I ramble about whatever’s happening, show him pictures, and he just watches me. I can tell he wants to hug me but is ashamed of himself.”

  “Maybe the anniversary will be different,” Willa whispers against my chest. I know she writes Donny and he writes her back. But it’s none of my business. Sometimes you’ve got to let go of control if it heals.

  “I know this is an odd request, but I’d like you to petition for a private visit on the eighth. They allow conjugal visits for spouses, so maybe you can swing something where we only have a guard in a small room instead of a packed visitors’ center.”

  “I’ll do my best, Royce,” Amery vows. “Donny’s defense team is still working on an appeal at best, or a shortened sentence for good behavior at worst. They’ve passed Willa’s and your statements around so much, I think our justice system knows the words by heart.”

  Wynn’s face scrunches up, staring at Bren to see if he understands what’s going on. When Wynn begins to question us, Amery shuts him down. “So, Royce…” My lawyer slides the final folder from my daddy’s Trust in the box, and then places it on the floor. He grabs a single folder for Bren from his momma. “Any changes with Brennan’s Trust?”

  “You have more money?” Wynn turns on his brother, looking flabbergasted.

  “God, the irony is gonna kill Wynn.” Kade laughs into the crook of his elbow again, and Willa starts giggling against my chest.

  Bren goes from depressed to sheepish in an instant. “Dad, I need a new car and I need monthly funds for an apartment and living expenses.”

  “What? I thought you were staying at home and commuting to school?” My eyes seek Kade for his counsel, and he shakes his head slightly to the left and then the right. “Okay, we can negotiate on that after we’ve spoken about it in private. Car? You have a newer car?”

  “Remember how I said Dad is stingy?” Bren bumps Wynn in the arm
with his shoulder. “I have all this money, and that dang man made me save up from the age of fifteen to sixteen to buy my first car. I worked for a year, and the engine blew up after two weeks. He learned his lesson about letting me buy something reliable.” Bren looks me in the eyes for the first time in weeks. “My car is only two and a half years old for me, but it’s fourteen years old now and I don’t trust it.”

  “What car do you have in mind?” I blurt out without thinking.

  “Land Rover.”

  “No, too ridiculously expensive for someone your age. Pick again. American-made.”

  “Jeep?”

  “Jeep what?”

  “Rubicon?”

  “Fine. I’ll release the funds into your bank account. You have exactly two weeks to make a responsible purchase. If you try to buy something else, something less and keep the difference, I’ll jerk the funds right back out of your account. Trade-in on the old car?”

  “No, I’m keeping it.”

  “Why?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Amery’s amused laughter fills the boardroom. “That, my friends, is why Royce is the trustee. My god, you are a born negotiator.”

  “I’m a daddy. Every day is a negotiation,” I mutter dryly. Laughs, giggles, and snickers flow around the room.

  “Any more changes involving Brennan’s Trust?” Amery is slowly shutting the file, but I stop him.

  “Yes, I will be changing the automatic deposit into his account for living expenses, but I’ll have to give you a number after my son and I speak in private.” Amery nods his head in assent. “I also have another request, but it ties into Kaden’s Trust.”

  “You have a Trust?” Wynn’s head jerks around so quickly I fear he tore a tendon in his neck.

  Eyes shuttered, voice even, “I went to college for four years, to a not-so cheap school, and I was as dumb as a box of rocks. I’ve now applied for grad school so I can be certified as a counselor… I have a mortgage and didn’t have a job for seven months. What do you think?”

  “No shit,” Wynn sputters, looking ready to punch his boyfriend like he did just last week. “I knew Royce was floating you. But where did your Trust Fund come from?”

  “From me.” I shrug. “You asked if Brennan had more than me. No. When my wife died, I also lost something precious to me.” Sympathy pains, Willa quivers in my arms. “I received a settlement from my wife and my portion from my father. I started a nest egg for Kaden, with his living expenses coming out of his wages. But we all know what happened to his wages.” I eye both of the horny fools. “The Center isn’t up and running yet, and we can’t afford to pay the directors much. So Kaden’s bank account has been slowly draining his fund. When he turns twenty-five, I’ll have no say in how he spends it.”

  “I live simply.” Kaden pouts, thinking I’m making fun of him after how Wynn rides his ass for not pulling his own weight. “I behave. A house and tuition isn’t frivolity.”

  “I trust you.” I grip Kade’s shoulder, squeezing to hammer it home. “I trust you so much that I’ve made a big change.” I turn to Amery. “In eight months, Kade will be twenty-five. On that date, I want you to transfer the trusteeship to Kaden for both Brennan’s and Wynn’s Trusts.”

  “Holy fuck!” Bren gasps, clutching his chest. “I’ll have to ask Kade for my allowance? I should hold out for that Land Rover.”

  Kade slumps to the table like he’s fainted dead away.

  “I trust you, Kade. Bren’s right.” I turn to my ecstatic son– happy that Bren’s not despondent for a change. “Some things are not my business. I think back to my daddy, and there was no way I’d want him to know certain things. So I understand why you’ve been freezing me out and confiding in Kaden. It hurt me a bit, but it also makes me feel good that you have someone you can count on. I trust you both to be responsible.”

  “You’re seriously gonna put Wynn’s money in my hands?” Kade looks like I’ve lost my mind. “What if we break up? If he cheats on me, I might drain his account into mine out of spite.”

  “Wait– what?” Wynn’s looking around at all of us like we’re strangers. “My money? I ain’t got any.”

  “Here comes the irony,” Kade sings underneath his breath.

  “I set you up with a fund the same as Kade’s, for the same purposes. It’s not that large. A nest egg to get you on your feet. If used responsibly, you shouldn’t have to struggle. But I know how you operate, so I’m not worried.”

  “I don’t like this.” Wynn glares at me. The insanely happy kid turning back into Teenage Asshole Wynn. “I don’t like this at all. I won’t touch the money.”

  “Where do you think your room and board came from, you little shit.” Kade shoves Wynn almost out of his chair. “Don’t be an asshole. Look at it this way, if you wanted into someone’s pants bad enough, you’d do whatever it took.”

  “What?” Wynn and I say at the same time. Willa pulls away from me, laughing quietly.

  “Dad already gave Penny a car and gave the deed to their house to Warren,” Kade spills my dirty secrets. “And he’ll tell you this long song and dance about why he did it. But truth be told, he did it for her.” He points at a blushing Willa. “So get with the program and say thank you, ya little shit-ass.”

  Wynn’s glare promises Kaden a whole world of hurt when they leave here. “Why not just give Willa the money?”

  “Willa’s name is on everything I own,” I admit matter-of-factly.

  “And with that,” Amery stands from his seat to shut up my squawking children. “My work here is done.” My attorney flashes me a waning smile that says, “Good luck, buddy.”

  “Call me as soon as you know about my visitation with Donny,” my voice dips down into pleading territory.

  “I’ll make the request as soon as I get back to my office.” Amery looks down at all the boxes. “You two are strapping lads. How about you help me carry all this to my car.”

  Wynn, given the chance to help anyone, jumps right up to assist. His mood lightens remarkably from just this little gesture. Kade, not so much. He taunts Amery and Wynn about how he’s going to be the stingiest trustee they’ve ever seen.

  Willa leans into me, pecking me quickly on the lips. “I’m gonna pick up the coffee cups and shut this room down. Why don’t you two have words?”

  “Dad?” Bren squints his eyes while drawling my name. “You gonna go beat me up in the parking lot? Is this a shakedown? What the fuck, Willa?”

  Huffing a laugh, I lean down to kiss the hell out of Willa, and she giggles into my mouth. Standing back up, shaking my head left and right. “Damn woman ain’t never figured out what that saying means. But gotta say, I miss the homerun threat.”

  Have words

  “Son?” I gaze over my shoulder at Bren as we leave the meeting room– which used to be a print shop thirty years ago and has laid dormant until now. As the smallest building on my side of Main Street, I chose it to house our offices and meeting room. “We’re just going to do a walk-through and see how everything is coming along for next week’s unveiling. No talking. Promise.”

  “No talking?” Bren snorts, but he follows after me like a silent cloud of misery. “I’m positive I’m in for a lecture.”

  “Is that your guilt speaking?” I guess, knowing I’m right. “I’ve been there– I’m still there. Ya gotta let that shit go. It’ll eat you from the inside out.”

  “Let it go?” he scoffs, yet his brown eyes hold a wealth of guilt and shame. “You ain’t having much luck with that.”

  “I’m trying at least… and Dr. Cassidy would agree that I’m succeeding.” I head out the front door, stepping onto the sidewalk. I stride backward to the curb, eyes on the Life Skills Center.

  “So much for not talking,” Bren grumbles passive-aggressively underneath his breath. If he’s going to act like a kid, I’m going to treat him like one. I ignore him, knowing eventually it will break him.

  “Thi
s–” I gesture to the block of buildings in front of me “–is letting go.”

  The five buildings that house the Life Skills Center loom overhead, a silent promise of Rusty Knob’s positive future. With the inception of Rusty Knob, these buildings started out as a bank, a pharmacy, an insurance office, a diner, and a printer.

  Over the years, businesses closed and others pulled in. But the sense of community was lost when a tanning salon took over a four-generation pharmacy, only to last three months because Rusty Knob’s denizens got their tans out of doors for free while doing manual labor. Or how the printers, which was supplemental to our dying newspaper, was seventy years old before it went out of business. It became a video store until VHS and DVD rentals became obsolete. Then it was a touristy t-shirt shop that flopped immediately. After that, it became a place to buy fish and small furry animals we didn’t need when they were overflowing our creeks and yards already. Advantageously, it changed hands with a tattoo artist, which was a big hit until the owner pulled up his roots and left for the nearest city. Last it sat empty for five years because no one could afford the rent on the building and we were out of ideas on how to yank money out of our neighbors’ pockets in the quest to earn a buck and survive.

  Until today, Rusty Knob was dying along with its elder citizens, leaving its rich traditions and its sense of community to be forgotten by the generations to come. In the quest to see the bigger picture, embrace technological advancements and the changes to our country, our vision has become peripheral. As we advocate saving an entire world, we no longer see what’s right in front of our face.

  As our elders would say, “any animal knows, you don’t shit where you eat and sleep.” If Bren heard my thoughts, he’d laugh right now. But these sayings hold greater meaning. In order to be selfless, we’ve spread ourselves too thin. We’ve shit on our town, where we live, sleep, and eat, by taking away the very things we need in order to survive. We worry so much about the greater good, we forget that we have to be strong in order to help others. In our weakened state, even Child Protective Services isn’t capable of helping kids who are growing up just like Wynn had.

 

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