“As your mother said,” Dad began to talk, “Herman made decisions based on his knowledge. The problem was that he had stopped trying to obtain new knowledge and was set in his beliefs. He believed that by dividing Wade into shares, he could outlast the growing giants.”
My throat seemed tight. Looking down and back up, I inhaled. Seeing my parents’ faces and hearing the conviction in their voices was...
I hadn’t expected this discussion to be emotionally difficult.
I’d been wrong.
Beneath the table, Van’s hand reached for mine.
Mom went on, “Well as you know, Dad decided to turn Wade into a privately held company with stock options. He thought he could control the stock. My father thought he knew best.”
“I told him,” Dad said, “that it wouldn’t work. Not long term. Your mother and I argued with him. After the fact, once the Butlers and Roses invested, he thought he’d done what Wade needed. He also decided Ana and I hadn’t been supportive.”
“Both of you?” I asked. “I thought Grandpa made Mom take a more active role because he was only upset with you,” I directed toward my father.
Mom shook her head. “I took the position out of defiance. This company carries my maiden name. Dad wanted to cut Gregg and me out. Instead, I pushed further in.”
I stared. “He wanted to cut you out. His only child?”
Mom nodded.
“I didn’t know that,” I said honestly.
“Of course not,” Mom went on. “You were a child. You didn’t need to know the family upheaval. And Dad was your grandfather. We’d already lost my mother and Gregg’s parents. We didn’t want what was happening between the three of us to affect your relationship with your only living grandparent.”
My hand was still in Van’s grasp. He was doing what he did so well—not saying a word, letting me carry on, while providing me the strength to continue. “The will.”
Mom and Dad exchanged looks.
“What?” I asked. “Is there fraud? How did the executor die?”
Mom’s blue eyes opened wide. “I have no idea how Mr. McCook died.”
“It was his heart,” Dad said. “Cobbs and Wilson notified us of his passing.”
“Was it a coincidence that his death was at the same time you decided to use your home in Lincoln Park as collateral?”
Mom shook her head. “There isn’t a connection.”
“Fraud?” I asked again.
“Your grandfather had a will,” Mom said. “He was organized down to a ‘t.’ Charities and organizations. He wanted to be remembered in death as well as life.”
Van spoke. “But the will that Mr. McCook filed was signed and filed only days before Herman Wade’s death. It was a new will.”
Mom sat taller. “No, Donovan, it was the will he’d had prepared for years.”
“There was a newer will,” I said, my stomach in knots. “He wrote a new will that excluded the two of you and me.”
Mom’s eyes closed as Dad’s complexion became a shade of gray.
Van squeezed my hand.
Be the calm. He’d said that last time too.
I took a breath. “The last will and testament filed with Cobbs and Wilson was fraudulent.”
“No,” Mom said. “It was the will my father had written. He signed it.”