A Few Tables Away (Glenhaven #1) Page 20

  “Thanks.” I smiled and pointed toward the living room where a fire was burning bright. “You got the tree? ’Cause I want to finish the attic before the chili’s done and Dad gets home. That way I can call Dani from my room.”

  “Yeah, I need to call Tyler tonight, and I have to do that on the down-low from Dad. Ty wanted us to check in every once in a while…just so he knows Dad’s not doing anything shitty,” she explained with a grimace.

  I barked a laugh, checking on my chili one more time. “Define shitty,” I said with a chuckle, glancing over my shoulder as I stirred the pot.

  She grinned. “I dunno. It seems since Thanksgiving, Tyler thinks Dad will get worse.”

  My brow furrowed, and I put the lid back on the pot. Facing her, I said, “You know, Daniel said the same thing after Tyler’s call that day.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I honestly don’t know what pissed Ty off more—Dad picking on you or his calling Jasmine a whore.”

  “That’s the thing,” Faith agreed. “Tyler said to remember when we were kids, that Dad would at least pretend to be civil around friends and stuff. Now, it’s like he’s…”

  “Desperate,” I finished in a whisper. “Or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about pretenses anymore.”

  “Yeah. Or maybe both.”

  I hummed, tapping the counter. “Well, when you talk to Tyler, tell him he doesn’t have to dig the grave just yet, but there’s a perfect spot in the woods if he needs one,” I teased her, which made her laugh wickedly before I walked back up the stairs to the attic ladder.

  Snorting to myself, I climbed up to get to work. Despite how much I missed Dani, missed her family, and missed Florida, I was at least grateful that I’d had little to no interaction with my father since the day I’d come home and that my sister was out of the line of fire. I only needed to get through the next couple of weeks, and she only needed to make it to the summer.

  The attic didn’t exactly need all that much in the line of cleaning, and it wasn’t exactly warm up there, but it was stuffy. I tugged my shirt off and dropped it by the hatch. Then I removed some cobwebs, discovered and squished the spiders Faith hated, and started to organize the boxes. Most of them up there were things that Mom had stored—baby clothes and blankets from all three of us, quilts and old bedding, not to mention different decorations for different seasons. There were a few boxes of Tyler’s—mostly his sports stuff—and old games none of us played anymore. I shifted those around to allow more room, and I swept up. The last few boxes were the ones I’d noticed were open when I’d retrieved the Christmas ornaments for Faith.

  I knew what they were, but in spite of my sputtering heart, I looked inside anyway at some of my mother’s things. The first box contained some of her clothes, things that didn’t get donated to charity after her funeral, and her box of jewelry. Most of the latter was costume stuff or things that matched her clothes. It was stuff Faith wanted, so we’d put them up there when one of our most severe punishments had been to clear Mom’s things from my parents’ room about four months after she died. Frowning at that old memory, I noted that those things had been rummaged through—and rather roughly, at that—but I rearranged them before closing the box back up. I stacked it off to the side.

  The next box was just papers and such, it seemed, but again, the box looked like it had been ransacked. File folders were askew and lying on top, pages were ripped or just dropped back in there, and nothing seemed in order. As I tried to put things back in their place, I realized they were from my mother’s desk in the library. It was just old files—utility bills, car payments and registrations, insurance papers, and her old bank statements. As I put things back in their folders, I noted that her bank was different than the one my dad used. He’d given Tyler and then me a card to use for school supplies, only depositing money into the accounts for books and supplies. Where his bank had a red and blue logo, my mother’s was green.

  My brows shot up high at the balance from the last statement that was filed away. I knew my mother had lost her parents—our grandparents—in an accident before we were born, but I’d never questioned any of it because it seemed to make my mother sad to talk of it. I’d also never thought to question money at all. Hell, I’d been just a damn kid. But I was looking at seven figures. Turning the statement over, I saw it was in a savings account, not a checking. Her checking account seemed to only receive her paychecks from Key Lake High School.

  I filed that away, and I couldn’t help but neaten the row of folders. It was just a part of me to straighten it up. I looked in the last file that had been pulled out and saw that it was my mother’s life insurance policy, with my dad as the beneficiary, which made sense. I closed the box back up and stacked it on top of the rest along the wall of the attic. With one last sweep-up, I dumped the dirt into the garbage can I’d brought with me.

  I grabbed my shirt and the can and turned off the light, descending back down to the upstairs hallway…coming face-to-face with my dad. He seemed surprised to see me, though he wasn’t looking me in the eye but at my side—more specifically, my scars. I dropped the can, which caught his attention.

  “What the hell were you doing up there?” he snapped.

  “Uh, cleaning. It was on your list,” I told him calmly, pointing to the garbage that had dust and debris on top.

  When he had nothing to say to that, he scoffed, “Put your fucking shirt on, Evan!”

  I huffed a laugh, glancing down at my scars, and somehow, I could hear my sweet Dani’s brutal honesty coming out of my own mouth. “Does it bother you to see them?” I asked him softly. “Does it remind you of her?”

  He sneered, stiffening as I snatched my shirt off the rung of the ladder, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Try looking at it in the mirror every fucking day,” I muttered on the way by, pulling my shirt back on and grabbing the garbage can. Just before I went back down to the first floor, I added, “I made dinner, by the way. Feel free to join us.”

  I stepped back into the kitchen, setting the can back in its place and then washing my hands. My chili looked perfect, and the smell made me homesick for the Bishop house, for my Dani.

  I pulled down some bowls from the cabinet, calling out to my sister, who was still decorating the Christmas tree. “Hey, Faith! Come eat!”

  Just as she stepped into the kitchen, we both looked up at the ceiling when the sound of Dad’s bedroom door slammed.

  The day before Christmas Eve, I gave all the damn chores a rest, choosing to make the trip to Helena. Faith had simply wanted to get out of Key Lake, and I’d ridden along with her to get out of the house, but I’d texted with Dani pretty much the whole time. Even Wes piped in every now and then. Both were telling hilarious things about the Bishop house in Christmas chaos. Wes had called Dani a neat freak, and she’d dubbed him Scrooge.

  When we pulled into the drive, Faith stopped so I could grab the mail. There were a few Christmas cards in there from various friends of my parents, one from Tyler and Jasmine to Faith and me, and various bills. But what caught my attention was an envelope from my mother’s old bank. Faith pulled on into the driveway next to Dad’s car, which was strange. He was supposed to be covering for a few doctors who’d wanted to take the holidays off.

  “Faith, wait,” I whispered, grabbing her hand before she could open her car door. I held up the letter. “What’s this?”

  “Dad’s bank. Those come all the time.”

  “That’s not his bank,” I told her, pulling out my wallet and showing her the bank card he’d given me. “This is his bank. This…” I held up the letter again. “This was Mom’s bank. I…I only know that because there’s a file folder full of statements up in the attic. She had a checking and savings account. You know…money from when her parents died in one and paychecks from KLHS in the other.”

  “Okay, so?” she asked, but she focused her attention on it. “I mean…they were married, Evan, so it makes sense that they’re addressed to him now. Maybe he just left i
t where it was.”

  I tapped the envelope across my knuckles, studying it for a moment. There was a part of me that wanted to know what it said, perhaps what the balance was, because deep down inside, my stomach was churning. Something seemed wrong.

  “Did Mom have a will?” I asked her softly, glancing to the house for a second.

  “Evan, I was ten!” she countered with a laugh. “I don’t remember all that much.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Um, I remember staying home with Dad because I was watching a TV show, and I remember the phone call he got when you guys showed up at the hospital. Dad took me with him, and he made me stay with you after they’d stitched you up and Tyler was in surgery, but the nurses kept an eye on me. Dad was kinda all over the place. He was…dealing with police and the surgeons and the nurses. He told me that Mom wasn’t coming.” Her face looked sad. “I remember when you woke up, and I remember you crying. I remember Tyler waking up from surgery the same way. The funeral is blurry. There was that lady Dad brought in to watch us, but only until Tyler was like fifteen or so.” Shaking her head, she shrugged a shoulder and looked my way. “He barely talked to us before, big brother, so he really wasn’t going to come running to us after, you know?”

  Nodding, I tapped the letter again. Glancing her way, I opened it. It was the same as the ones in the attic, a simple bank statement, with balances and charges. The significant difference was the type of account it was: a trust, with William Shaw as the beneficiary. The other significant difference was the balance.

  “Jesus…” I breathed, shaking my head and turning the pages over in my hands.

  “What?”

  Shaking my head, I looked over at her. “I think we need to call Tyler.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this account is like missing a third of what was showing up in the attic.”

  Faith narrowed her eyes and picked up her phone, scrolling quickly and putting it on speaker.

  “Rylee Faith!” our brother answered. “What’s shakin’, midget? Daddy Dearest give you lumps of coal yet?”

  I snorted but spoke up. “Tyler, listen.”

  Quickly explaining what I’d seen in the attic and about the statement in my hand, I asked, “Did Mom have a will?”

  “I dunno, baby bro,” he said grimly. “Do me a favor, you two…Just…keep that shit quiet for now. Okay? Let me see what I can find out. Jasmine’s dad is a lawyer. Let me ask him a few questions, and I’ll get back to you. Don’t say shit to Dad.”

  “Okay,” Faith and I said together.

  “And keep that fucking statement.”

  I folded it and stuck it in my back pocket. “Done,” I told him. “Merry Christmas, Tyler. We gotta go.” I tapped Faith’s arm and pointed to Dad, who was watching us out the window.

  “Merry Christmas, guys.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Evan

  “FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MOVIE?” I asked Dani over the phone as I flipped through the channels on the TV in my room.

  The bank statement was still in my pocket, but Dad had left not long after Faith and I had gotten off the phone with Tyler in the car to come inside. He was working overnight, which meant he’d be back in the morning, sleep through the day, and go in again on Christmas Eve. It was that latter part that made me happy. That he’d be gone for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Gifts were not an important part of the Shaw household. They hadn’t been since Faith had turned eleven and figured out that Santa was just a great big ruse. After that, no one bothered with any of it.

  “Um, A Christmas Story,” she answered. “You?”

  “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” I said, grinning when she laughed.

  “Okay, then.”

  “What’d you expect? A Christmas Carol? Dickens and Scrooge?”

  “Actually, yes!” She cracked the hell up, and God, I missed that sound, but more, I missed seeing her when she laughed like that. Her body would curl in on itself, her nose would wrinkle, and those blue eyes were just gorgeous when she laughed. Sometimes she’d curl up on me when she did it, and we’d end up kissing like crazy, like we couldn’t breathe without our lips touching.

  “Yours fits you, pretty girl,” I said with a chuckle. “I can see you and Wes just…up to no good as kids.”

  “Oh hell yes. I always wanted to get his tongue stuck to a metal pole, if only to shut him up.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “You mean you didn’t?” I gasped in false shock.

  “No, but that wasn’t without trying. Yours fits too, baby. The different kid picked on by his peers.”

  “Huh…Yeah, I guess. Though, really, it’s Rudolph’s parents that fascinated me as a kid. The mom was cool, but the dad was all embarrassed of him, tried to change him, but in the end accepted him and corrected how he treated him.” I huffed a humorless laugh. “And there’s how you know it’s fiction. It never turns out like that.”

  “Baby,” Dani breathed over the line. “You said he was leaving you alone. Are you okay?”

  Her voice softened, wrapping around me like her hugs. I dropped the TV remote onto the bed and raked a hand through my hair. One good thing to come out of being back in Key Lake was I’d gone to my old barber for a haircut. It had been needed.

  “I…I guess.” I sighed deeply. “You know, I never paid attention to some stuff as a kid. I accepted what I was told because I trusted my mother, and my dad…he didn’t really tell us anything, but…”

  I started talking, telling her everything I’d done and seen since coming back to Montana. I’d been keeping her posted on some things, but the bank situation was bugging the shit out of me. It wasn’t even about the money, and I expressed that to Dani too. It was about the fact that the money in that account had belonged to my mother, and it was most likely that same money that my dad had held over our heads for years. I told her about every word Dad and I had exchanged and how he’d pretty much left Faith and me alone, except for the occasional run-in.

  “I’m so very proud of you, Evan,” she said softly over the phone.

  I felt my cheeks heat with how firmly she’d said those words. “For what?”

  “For not putting up with his shit but doing it in a way that makes you the better person, baby,” she explained. “He’s the one yelling and throwing shit like a fucking child, and you’ve stayed calm and honest. It’s the honesty that’s keeping him away. He doesn’t want to hear it, and he’s probably starting to see he can’t get to you. I love you, and you’re doing the right thing.”

  “I love you too.” I uttered those words back so easily, and they still felt inadequate as to how she made me feel, but she seemed to cherish it every time I said them.

  “The trust fund thing is a different story. If it’s been changed from her savings to a trust fund, then your mom probably did have a will, Evan. You know, Aunt Tessa and Dad had a trust fund from Grandpa Bishop. I could…maybe ask them how it works.”

  “Do you mind? I’m a little lost here, Dani.”

  “Anything for you, baby. Aunt Tessa’s here. I’ll go ask her. Hold on.”

  I could hear Dani shift on the other end of the line. Doors opened, thumps echoed down stairs, and I could envision the whole house. And I missed it like the air I breathed.

  “Hey, punkin’,” I heard Aunt Tessa sing over the line. “What’s up?”

  Dani explained everything I’d told her as best she could, but Aunt Tessa interrupted her.

  “Let me talk to him, Dani,” she said, and her voice was clear over the line. “Hey, sweet boy! We miss you.”

  My grin spread over my face as I answered her back. “I miss you guys too. Um, Merry early Christmas.”

  She laughed. “Back atcha, kiddo. Now…let’s talk about this trust fund thing.” She took a deep breath and then started to talk. “Daniel and I were given a trust fund when our father died. He did have a will, and he had specific instructions on how things were to be distributed. Daniel was of age, but I was a
minor when Dad passed away. So that made Daniel the executor of the estate…and my guardian. We didn’t have any issues, though. I mean, it was just the two of us, so the house, the accounts, and everything my dad left behind were simply…split. Daniel and I were amicable about the whole business, like we always are.

  “However, Evan, until I was of age, Daniel had to treat my portion of the funds delicately. Sometimes he had to show proof of what he’d spent, like a car or repairs on the house…whatever. That was just in case I decided to call foul play. Not that I would, you see. But you guys…Christ, buddy…this is a sticky situation. You’re already on iffy terms with your dad, but you’re all of age. All three of you. And your older brother…”

  “Tyler.”

  “Tyler. How old is he?”

  “He’s about to turn twenty-one in January.”

  “Is he now?” she said slowly. “Some trusts are set up that the age of the recipient isn’t eighteen but twenty-one.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, sir. It all depends on how your mother set it up.”

  “But…but…Aunt Tessa, wouldn’t have someone told us?” I asked, swallowing nervously because this was starting to fall into place a bit—the money, Dad’s sudden change in hostility, his desperate actions, even his leaving us alone the last few days.

  “Yeah, your dad.”

  I laughed harshly, humorlessly. “Right.”

  My phone beeped, and I pulled it away to see that Tyler was calling me just as Faith poked her head in the door.

  “Aunt Tessa, I gotta go. My brother’s calling. Please tell Dani I love her and that I’ll call her later. Okay?”

  “Absolutely, Evan. And son?” she called urgently over the line. “Be safe, okay?”

  “Okay.” My chest filled with a warmth of her calling me son, because that’s how she’d treated me the whole time I’d known her.

  I answered Tyler’s call. “Hey.”

  “Okay, the midget should be banging down your door any second,” he replied, and as hard as he was trying to keep his voice light, he was failing. “Put me on speaker. Daddy Dearest isn’t home, so I want to talk to both of you.”