Chapter 14 - What Robert Said to Mark
Mark sat across from me at the kitchen table.
The same table where Robert had eaten breakfast every morning for twenty-seven years.
“Tell me about April nineteenth.”
Mark went pale.
“Clara told you.”
“She told me enough.”
He stared at his hands.
“Dad asked me to meet him before work.”
“And?”
“He took me to the old warehouse.”
“What did he say?”
Mark breathed out slowly.
“He said he knew everything.”
“I already know that.”
“No. I mean everything.”
He looked up.
“The Northstar deal. The loans. Reese. The fake consulting fees.”
My jaw tightened.
“What did he want?”
“For me to resign.”
“And you refused.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mark’s eyes turned red.
“Because I hated him.”
The words hit the room like broken glass.
I said nothing.
“He always made me feel small.”
“Your father bragged about you to everyone.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“What did he do?”
“He corrected me. Constantly. Every decision. Every number. Every plan.”
“You were CFO.”
“I know.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I wanted one thing that was mine.”
“So you tried to take his company.”
“Yes.”
I appreciated the lack of excuse.
I hated the answer anyway.
“What happened after you refused?”
Mark’s voice dropped.
“Dad said, ‘Then I’m done protecting you from yourself.’”
My throat tightened.
“He told me he’d change the trust.”
“And?”
“I told him if he did, I’d make sure everyone knew the company was failing.”
“You threatened him.”
“Yes.”
“Did you threaten me?”
Mark looked sick.
“No.”
“Did you use my house?”
“Yes.”
I stood.
He stood too.
“Mom—”
“Sit down.”
He did.
I reached into a drawer and placed Robert’s note on the table.
Would you be here if I had really died poor?
Mark read it.
His face collapsed.
“I don’t know.”
It was the first answer I believed completely.
He began to cry.
Not loudly.
Not theatrically.
Just a man finally unable to hold himself upright.
“I don’t know who I became.”
I sat across from him.
“That doesn’t bring your father back.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t restore trust.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t guarantee you one dollar.”
His eyes lifted.
“I know.”
Then he took a folded page from his pocket.
“I found this in my motel room.”
I opened it.
It was a copy of Robert’s handwriting.
One sentence.
ELLIE DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT THE THIRD BENEFICIARY.
I looked at Mark.
“What third beneficiary?”
May you like
He shook his head.
“I was hoping you knew.”
