“Hi, Ma, look who I got to come back home with me,” I said as I held my arms out presenting my girlfriend. I looked back at Wilson just in time to see the smile drop from her face. Her eyes grew wide, loaded with fear, like she’d just seen the most terrifying accident. Her chin wrinkled as it began to dance under her pursed lips. Her cheeks turned red as tears started to run down her face.
They both stood on either side of me, just a few feet apart but they read like miles. I looked back at my mom, who was mirroring Wilson’s same reaction. Her green eyes were perimetered by red lids. Her cheeks were deep set, her lips pouting just like they did when I’d disappoint her as a kid. She looked older, worn, and exhausted, like she was alone in the world.
I couldn’t tell if I was going to see them hug or break out into a fight. I pulled Wilson closer and wrapped my arms around her while I pressed my lips against the curve of her ear.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I whispered, making sure to sneak a whiff of the sweet aroma of her coconut shampoo.
When I let go of her the absence of her body in my embrace chilled me to the core. I turned to my mom and gave her a hug, telling her the same thing I told Wilson.
“Mom, everything is okay, right?”
The two most important women in my life and neither of them acknowledged my words. It was like they struggled to find the ability to start a dialogue. So I started it for them.
“Mom, Wilson, I want you to know—”
“Maxi, can you give me a moment alone with Wilson?” My mom suddenly found her voice. I, on the other hand, lost mine.
“Ummm,” I hummed as I looked back at my girlfriend, hoping to find an answer to give my mom. Wilson looked at me for a moment before giving me a slight nod yes. I leaned over, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and whispered against her skin, “I’ll be right here in the kitchen.”
She nodded and her clouded blue eyes disappeared behind an extended blink. “Thanks,” she managed to mumble back.
With that, I turned and looked at my mom and saw the woman who battled for me…my whole life; the same woman who, when I was a kid, would always kiss my skinned knees and wipe away my tears. It was that woman who took on my dad when I decided to go to college to be a teacher and who struggled every day to help me when I came back home after Mallory’s suicide. There was no doubt in my mind, when I looked at her, she knew her boundaries. Or at least I hoped so.
I felt her hand press and rub across my shoulder as she and Wilson shuffled passed me into the dining room. I watched as the two women I love more than anything in the world left me alone in the kitchen.
I pulled open the fridge and looked at the overflowing shelves. It was more of a habit than the desire to eat. Nothing looked good. I really just wanted to know what was being said out in the dining room. I wanted to be there, standing between both of them as their words bounced and toggled back and forth. Is my mom going to be fair in her conversation with Wilson? Or will she damage Wilson’s confidence more than it already is?
“It’s the same shit that was in there yesterday. Do you think staring at it will change that?” Calvin said as he plopped a stack of papers on the counter between us.
“Nope. What’s that?” I really didn’t feel like creating small talk with Calvin, but right then I’d take anything I could get to keep my mind off of what was going on in the other room.
“Well, I guess a couple of weeks ago Dad met with Gary Browne.”
“His lawyer?”
“Yeah. Gary called and needs the business contract Dad had with Buck Tanner.”
“Dad’s business advisor?”
“Yeah, he was supposed to supply this year’s financials and any addendums Tanner & Trait may have made to their contract between the beginning of September through present day. My guess is that Dad suspected Buck wasn’t working for his best interests.”
“Buck Tanner?”
“The one and only Buck Tanner,” Calvin droned.
“The same Buck Tanner that has been Dad’s business advisor for over twenty years?” I questioned.
“Yeah, Max, the same Buck Tanner. I think the Buck-meister hasn’t been as honest as we all thought.” Calvin hoisted himself onto the barstool across the counter between us and spun the papers around, pointing to a spot he’d highlighted in bright yellow.
I read it, moving my lips as my eyes consumed the words that assured Buckman Tanner, of Tanner and Trait Associates, fifteen percent of my father’s business. It was dated Friday, December 24th.
I grabbed the papers and thumbed through to the last page, looking for my dad’s signature. “He didn’t sign it, did he?” Every walloping beat of my heart thrust the fight or flight urge deeper into my gut. “He didn’t initial the page, right? Tell me he was smarter than that!” I said hurriedly and breathlessly as I felt the acid churn in my stomach. Then the blood drained from my face as I recognized his signature at the bottom of the page. As I looked up at Calvin, his expression told me everything. We were defeated; the man we trusted had somehow swindled fifteen percent of my family’s business from my father.