Page 21 of Letters Book Two
“My life sucks! I have one hot boy in my bed currently. There’s another gorgeous one in the South. And yet, neither one of you want me.” I lifted my head and then slammed back onto my pillow.
He stuck an elbow into my side this time. “Wrong, you dunce! I have what I want. A wonderfully generous, kind and caring friend. And I am certain Lucas wants you too. Why else would he call? You thought about that? He reached out to you... first. How about that? Kinda mature in my humble opinion.”
“You really think all those things?” I needed reassurance.
“Iknowall those things.” He laid his arm on my chest. I appreciated how loving Chad is. “Let’s get a plan together. I know we can polish you up and make you morepleasin’, Mr. Jackson. Master, sir.”
“You’re weird. A good weird, but still strange as shit. I wish Jack had known you. He would have adored you,” I said.
“Oh, trust me, Jacklovesme.” He tapped my chest and moved his face near mine, whispering, “And I’m not even done with you yet, mister. Wait till he gets a load of that fix-up.”
CHAPTER-NINETEEN: Lucas
The sunlight beamed through the small window in my apartment. It was open because of the warmer than usual late September weather. Everyone within a block or two radius could hear the kids that were too young to be in school screaming that shrill way that three- and four-year olds tend to do. The park was hosting a mommy and toddler aerobicize class, and quiet was at a minimum this morning. I folded the last of my clothes and put them away. My chores were complete and now I had the rest of the day to be miserable.
Mondays were my day off, but I hadn’t felt like doing shit since discovering Chad was with Perry. My phone had been blowing up with calls and texts, but I hadn’t listened to the messages and didn’t care to read the texts. I deleted them as fast as they came in. Perry didn’t need to explain anything to me. Chad answering his phone was all I needed to know. It seemed that Perry had made his mind up about us and had already moved on. He probably figured he should have picked Chad first, so why not check back in with him after our failed attempt at a relationship.
I dreaded the upcoming meeting I had at the Beaufort County Magistrate Courthouse. The Tiltons had wasted no time getting a court date and they were pushing me to settle with them so they wouldn’t have to deal with the publicity of a trial in Columbia. They requested we use a neutral third party and settle things through binding arbitration. This would mean that there would be no trial or trial-judge ruling. We would both have to be willing to accept the findings and determination of the arbitrator. Mr. Howard found representation for me, and they both encouraged me to accept the request. They agreed it would save time, as well as money. It would be convenient for me too, since I could walk to the courthouse, only four blocks away.
I spent the rest of the day trying to keep my mind off of Perry. It was a good thing that I was used to losing at love, I knew the routines well. I did my best to stay busy and not dwell on what was now out of my hands. Heartbreak is the real deal, and that shit hurts. It will kill ya if you let it pull you down with it. I’d built up scars around my heart, and it was still trying to get me. I wasn’t eating much. I didn’t wanna talk much either. Having the added drama of this court hearing hanging over me only made shit worse than the times before. Maybe it’s a good thing I hadn’t spent a dime of the money Lachen had saved for me. Knowing what I knew about the Tiltons, I was in for a battle. They’d get their way. They always did.
I was curious how they could have known about the money. Was it the bank manager, Casper Young, a long-time Tilton family supporter, at my original bank, that ratted me out? Was it Doreen Tilton, Lachen’s widow? She’d been running her mouth on the subject of recent discoveries about her dead husband and his bastard child. Maybe she thought she could get her hands on my half-million-dollar bank account? Her gravy train ended with Lachen’s life, so she was most likely on the hunt for more money. Truth be told, the Tiltons never liked her all that much. Now that he was dead, they probably saw her and the kids as a burden. They figured she’d tried reaching a rung or two up the social ladderwhen she landed Lachen. How dare she to try to get ahead on the backs of one of them. Doreen hadn’t exactly beenwrong side of the tracksmaterial, but she was barely middle class when she married him. A slightly better qualification over Momma and me, and our mobile home park resumé. Truthfully, I wasn’t used to having money, so if I lost what I just recently learned about, so be it. Par for the course, in my book.
The next morning came way too soon. I wasn’t sure what a person should wear to an appointment like this. I hadn’t run out and bought a suit for it, that’s for sure. I couldn’t afford a suit, especially if the Tiltons took my money. I did own one button-down shirt, in reasonably good condition, and a pair of khaki pants that I kept for special occasions. They’d have to do. I washed my tennis shoes in the gas station sink in the hopes I could get a presentable look going for my overall appearance. The attorney Mr. Howard found for me advised me to just be myself.
“Probably best that you don’t come in wearing a suit, son. We don’t need that family thinking you’re living high on the hog with their dead son’s money,” Tommy Duckworth, my attorney said.
I headed down to the garage to check on Mr. Howard. “I’m heading out, Grandpa. Wish me luck.” I didn’t look like I had any confidence left in me. Dark circles were under my eyes, and my shoulders sagged. I needed a haircut, and the khakis barely hung on me. I’m sure I looked like a kid that had been kidnapped and held in a closet for a month or two.
“Come here, kid.”
I trundled over, shuffling my feet and trying not to cry. I was nearly twenty years old, but I felt like a toddler. I was terrified of facing high-powered attorneys. Mr. Howard put one hand on my shoulder and lifted my chin with the other. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of, son. You knew nothing about that money. None of this is your fault either.”
“I know, sir. I’m just nervous is all.”
“I will close this place down, right now, and go with you, boy. Just say the word. I mean it!”
“Thank you. I need to do this on my own. It’s time I take control of my life and face the music. I’ll be alright.” I wasn’t sure if I would be alright though. This, and no Perry? Chances were slim.
He pulled me in for a hug. “I’m here for you. Just ask and I’ll go.”
“I know you would, Grandpa. I’ll fill you in when I get back. Mr. Duckworth will take care of me. Thanks for finding him for me.”
“Of course, son. You go and give them suits hell for me. Grandma and I got your back, no matter what happens.” He moved me back from his embrace. “I’m serious, Lucas. Your biological father saved all that money for you. It was his idea. No need to be ashamed about any of it. The one Tilton that does a goddamned decent thing, and he ain’t here to defend his son. That ain’t right, son. You go get what’s yours.”
I stood taller and held my head up, looking directly into his eyes. “I’ll do that. For me and for my real father.”
Mr. Duckworth met me outside a nondescript door in a long hallway that had a dozen more that looked exactly the same. We were on the twelfth floor of the county building, and it hadn’t escaped me that the room number was 12-18. Coincidence? Too fucking weird, was more like it. 12/18 was the day Momma died. It was also the number of the safe-deposit box where I had first heard of the money and found out that Lachen Tilton was my father.Momma? Lachen? Are you two here?I looked around the narrow hall. They weren’t. There were several benches lining the walls, with other folks waiting to speak with the Grim Reaper.
A well-dressed woman opened the door from the inside and gestured for us to come in. I followed behind Mr. Duckworth, figuring he could take the first fire while I hid behind him for cover. The room was oblong, like the long table sitting in the middle of it. A picture of the American president and the state’s current governor adorned the wall. It wasn’t lost on me that our Lieutenant Governor, Boregard Tilton II, mynewly discoveredbiological grandfather, had declared his candidacy for governor and wanted to be in that picture frame next year. Today, he was being represented by a row of six attorneys that sat across the table from where me and my one would be sitting. A young and attractive male stenographer sat beside the court-appointed arbitrator at the end. He lifted his eyes to me and smiled. I recognized him from when he and an older man came in for gas every Saturday. I had a feeling he might play for my team. It also appeared that he liked his men the way I did, a good twenty years older. I politely returned his smile.
After being sworn in, the arbitrator read what the hearing was regarding and requested arguments from both sides. Mr. Duckworth stated that he would respond to the complainant’s case as soon as they made their opening remarks. They began with exhibits of bank account records, a picture of the local bank where I used to keep the money, and sworn testimonies from family members that disputed any knowledge of me being a Tilton. They spoke of the philanthropic Tilton family and all the community work they did. They also accused my mother of extorting Lachen Tilton and the Tilton family. They claimed in order to keep my birth a secret, she forced Lachen to pay up. The funds in my account, being the blackmail money. They painted her as a woman of loose morals and bad decision making.
My face was red, and my fists were balled in my lap. These fucking assholes had no idea who Momma was. How fucking dare them. I couldn’t let that go unchecked. “That is bull...” I felt a hand on my leg and a firm squeeze. I turned to my attorney, and he slowly moved his head left and right. Message received. I bit my tongue.Assholes. Fuck you!
After a few more minutes of shaming Momma and her decisions, they concluded that the money that Lachen had saved for me should be given to his widow and hisrealchildren. They said the money would have been theirs to begin with had Lachen not hidden it from Doreen, his only wife. They handed all the documentation to the arbitrator. He spent ten quiet minutes sifting through them and writing down notes. I stared at my hands in the uncomfortable silence. Mr. Duckworth slid a note sideways to me.‘That was rough, but we’ll be fine. Try to remain calm’, it read.
“Mr. Duckworth and Mr. Jenson, are you prepared to state your case?” the arbitrator asked.
