Page 30 of Wood Riddance
Mom pushed through it all, building a life for herself and for us. She was more of a parent to Cole than either of people who’d contributed to his DNA, since his own mom wasn’t particularly interested in parenting. My saint of a mother put aside her hurt to love him like she loved the rest of us. She raised the five of us, sometimes Cole, and she never complained, always had a hug and a smile for us and a batch of cookies in the oven.
And she taught us to cook, do laundry, mow the lawn, and take care of one another and our neighbors. Still to this day, I cannot imagine how she did it all. But every time I think about it, I’m reminded of just how much I owed her.
On the other hand, I had no delusions that my father was a good guy. We had never been close and he came in and out of our lives when it was convenient to him. After Merry was born, I’d hoped to somehow bridge the gap, if only for her sake. Now? There was nothing to salvage. Except the company that bore our name.
Which we were definitely going to lose.
“You know what that dirty money means?” Owen asked. “It means the feds are gonna swoop in. They’re gonna seize the shit out of everything we’ve got. Most of Dad’s assets are frozen. Thankfully, the structure of the timber company gives us some leeway to at least try to keep things going. But the houses, the cars, the investments?”
“We don’t need that shit. We need our land and our equipment. We can figure the rest out.”
Owen scoffed. “Did you know that Dad had accounts in the Cayman Islands?”
Of course he did. The fucker did everything he could to evade paying taxes.
“They’re all frozen right now,” Owen explained. “If he’s found guilty—and let’s face it, that’s a certainty at this point—then they’ll take it all. It’s called forfeiture. And the feds are excellent at it.”
Jude threw up his hands. “So we’re screwed.” He took off his glasses and used his T-shirt—one that read:Zombies eat brains; don’t worry, you’re safe—to clean them for what had to have been the tenth time tonight. He was beyond done with this conversation and was about five minutes away from kicking us out of his house. Ripley, sensing his distress, padded over and put her head on his lap.
“Grandpa’s land trust is our only option. It’s what allowed us to sell that acreage,” Owen explained patiently. “Those funds can keep the business going, fund payroll, and keep a limited number of trucks on the road. For the time being, at least.”
“We’re also down a large percentage of employees,” Jude added.
“They’ll come back once things level out. The people here need the work.” Gus pounded his fist on the small table. “We’ve got to at least try. What else will we do? Timber is in our blood. This company was built by our ancestors. We can’t just walk away,” he shouted, which was rare for my oldest brother. He was mellow by default.
But his anger was only fueling mine. Owen was the number cruncher, and he was doing all he could for our family. He wasn’t the one rotting in prison. The man who’d destroyed our family’s reputation and had just about destroyed the business too.
Gus was taking his anger out on Owen when he didn’t deserve it. “We don’t have a choice. Dad did. And he fucked us,” I spat.
But of course, Owen had it handled. He dealt with assholes every day. “I wasn’t the one who flushed the family legacy down the toilet and contributed to the greatest public health crisis of our time,” he explained, his voice surprisingly calm. “I have a job. I have a life. I’m doing this for you guys. Not for Dad. Not for Uncle Paul. For my brothers. Because I love you.”
Gus got up and paced around the small kitchen, but he kept his mouth shut.
“I’ve been out a long time and I will not get dragged back in,” Owen said.
In my periphery, Jude nodded. We weren’t going to pull him back here. My favorite thing about Owen was that he did not bullshit. He was always honest and always up-front, even in his hatred of Lovewell and my father. So as much as his report on the business hurt, as much as it was gutting Gus, I trusted him.
I clapped my hands, the sound loud in the space that had gone silent moments before. “So we sell.” It was the inevitable outcome.
Gus glared at me. Jude continued to pet Ripley and ignored the conversation entirely.
“If only it were that easy,” Owen said. “This company is in tatters. The books are a shit show. There’s a lot of work to be done if we want to attract a serious buyer.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Jude shouted. With that, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly across the floor, and strode out the back door with Ripley on his heels.
Gus followed suit, clearly unwilling to discuss the next steps.
I leaned back, running my hands through my hair. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Owen.”
Despite my mom’s best efforts to instill in us the love and loyalty of a tight-knit family, we were splintering. And it gutted me to witness the way my father and his fucked-up legacy were coming between us.
But the battle lines had been drawn.
And I knew what side I was on.
Chapter9
Adele
