Etienne moved to offer his hand to my father, and at first, I was worried my father wouldn’t take it.
Eventually, he did, though. Making my body deflate.
“Sir,” Etienne said politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” His eyes were hard and assessing on Etienne. “I know what you did, and why you did it. I commend you for it.”
That’s when I realized that we were getting the really awkward part—Etienne’s jail sentence—out of the way first.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“And?” I barked when the silence stretched too long.
“And nothing,” Dad dropped Etienne’s hand and stepped away. “Where have you been living?”
“In my van,” I answered, seeing no reason to lie. “My office will be done soon, which has living quarters in it. I saw no reason to pay for a new lease, that I’ll be locked into, when I won’t be staying there much longer.”
“In your van.”
My dad’s voice clearly relayed that he was unhappy with my choices.
“Dad,” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I had no other options. I wasn’t given the option to pay month to month and finding a new place would mean handling deposits which I couldn’t do. I had no extra cash in my account since your wife takes all of my money and just poof, blows it, or does whatever she does with it. I don’t even look at my account anymore because it makes me physically sick to see. All those overdraft fees are also killing my credit score, thank you very much. So yes! I’m living in a fucking van!”
I finished the last off with a yell, causing all three men in the room to go on alert.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said. “Your account.”
I frowned.
“What?” I asked in confusion.
“Your account,” he repeated. “That’s why I’m here.”
“What about it?” I asked.
Dad crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking my appearance.
“Your account was locked to your stepmother and me. We can no longer see it, but you’re still getting your monthly stipend. With interest,” he said. “How could you go to a lawyer?”
How could I go to a lawyer?
“What?” I asked in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s quite comical, too, that you think that I can afford a lawyer. Trust me, I can’t.”
Nor would one even work with me, even if I could.
“Your stepmother is breathing fire down my back every night because you’ve somehow locked her out, and she can’t access that money anymore for herself or your siblings. You know that you’re getting the bulk of the money.”
I was?
“What?”
“The bulk. Your grandfather split it four ways, but you’re getting the majority of it all. I don’t know why,” he answered.
That was a lie.
I did know why.
My grandfather was like me. Likely, he was where I got all my quirks from.
He saw something in me that was of himself.
When I say we were alike, I meant we were so much alike that it was uncanny. It was nice being around him because he understood everything.
“Dad,” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “If Grandpop wanted me to have that money, why have I not been getting it?”
Dad was silent for a really long time. So long that it became uncomfortable.
“Dad,” I snapped. “This whole song and dance is getting really fucking old. Tell me what’s going on!”
“Your stepmother threatened breach of contract when it came to our prenup if I didn’t figure this out. I’m here now, trying to figure it out so I can go home and make peace. Living with her when she’s like this is hell,” he grumbled.
“Dad,” I said softly. “Welcome to my life. I’ve lived in hell for years when it comes to her. Yet, there you are, playing along to her abuse, because it makes your life easier. I don’t really fucking care if she can’t access my account anymore. Good fucking riddance. If I never saw, or heard from her again, it would be too soon.”
“You don’t mean that.” He looked stunned. “She’s not that bad.”
“Your wife has overdrawn my account twice a month for the last five years since I got my inheritance. At first, all of my actual money went in there, too. Do you know what it’s like to work hard for your money, only to have it stolen by someone that’s supposed to love you?” I laughed derisively. “Of course, you don’t. You’re too worried about your marriage, thinking that what you have with her is love. Newsflash, if you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have fucked some other woman years and years ago. What you have isn’t love, it’s a toxic relationship that ruined my freakin’ credit!”
Okay, so yelling at my father felt really good. It felt the best, even. Cathartic. As if I’d just let something huge off my chest.
I loved my dad, but I’d been silently angry at him for years.