Page 22 of Letters Book Two
“Yes, sir, we are indeed.” My attorney stood up and walked to the end of the room. He had prearranged a PowerPoint presentation for the white screen that he now pulled from the ceiling.
“I’d like to start with an image of my client’sactualbank account. As you can see, compared to the one delivered to arbitration today, this is where Mr. Jenson actually maintains his assets. The account information that they’ve shared is from where Mr. Lachen Tilton, my client’s biological father, made his deposits for nearly two decades.” He turned to the row of expensive suits across the table. “My question for counsel is this.” He took a dramatic pause. “Can you please tell us how you accessed this private account information without notifying Mr. Jenson’s legal representation? I have no record of that request, or copies for my client. And why were these funds not an issue for the nearly nineteen years it was in the financial institution you claim it’s in now?”
I sat up straight in my chair. I liked where this was going suddenly. Suit #4 leaned over to suit #3 and whispered something. Suit #3 frowned.Ok, this looked interesting.
Mr. Duckworth continued. “After contacting the manager of the bank where Lachen Tilton had done business for decades, my investigator offered him an opportunity to share with us how the Tilton family knew about the deposits.” Mr. Duckworth presented my opposition with a notarized letter. “I’d like to inform the court today that the manager of the bank, a Mr. Casper Young, called them and told them. Mr. Jenson is prepared to testify how the manager had told him how disappointed the Tilton family would be once they heard about Mr. Jenson’s heritage, not to mention large savings account. I’d like to enter into the records today a certified statement from the bank’s manager, admitting he called them the very day Mr. Jenson cashed out of the bank.”
The Tilton team tried their very best to show zero emotions after hearing that revelation. Not a single one of them picked up the letter lying in front of them. A couple of the high-priced suits stirred uncomfortably in their chairs though.
Holy fuck! What?This shit just got real.
“We all know the Tilton family has millions of dollars in assets. They’d like you to believe that Lachen Tilton used their funds to support my client’s savings account. They would be wrong of course. The records you now see on the screen are records comparing withdrawals from Lachen Tilton’s private trust, money he inherited once he turned legal age, and deposits made into the account that my client now controls. You will notice years and years of matching amounts. Mr. Lachen Tilton used his own money from this trust to provide for his son, my client. Not a single dollar was used from any other accounts. I believe the courts would agree that it is within his rights to do so?” He turned to the arbitrator and then to the Tilton defense team. “We would like to share one final document that the court will need so we can end this ridiculous farce and award my client what already belongs to him.”
As if by magic, an enlarged version of my birth certificate appeared on the screen. My attorney turned to me and pointed at the screen. “Is that your name, Mr. Jenson?” I nodded. “I need a verbal response please, Mr. Jenson.”
I sat up fully in my chair and held my head high. “Yes, sir. That is my name.”
“Is that your mother’s name, Mr. Jenson?”
“Yes, sir. It is.”
“And whose name is listed as your father, Mr. Jenson?”
“Lachen Chase Tilton, sir.” I noticed my real father had the same middle name as I did.How had I missed that?
“I concur, Mr. Jenson.”
He gathered all the papers and stuffed them into folders. He then grabbed a matching folder and handed it to the Tilton team, and then the other to the arbitrator. “Our records prove two things. One, Mr. Lucas Chase Jenson is the son of Mr. Lachen Chase Tilton. Two, Mr. Lachen Tilton used his own money to save for his child’s future. Whereas my client feels sadness over the loss the Tilton family has suffered, he is appreciative that his father had seen fit to provide for his future. We would like the court to rule in the only sensible way that it can, in Mr. Jenson’s favor. Thank you.”
He sat down and stared across at his adversaries. They appeared less than thrilled at the way this went down. It was very quiet in the room. I heard the air conditioner kick on and watched as the opposing legal team started putting files back into expensive looking briefcases and glancing at one another. Still, no one picked up the notarized letter of admission from the bank manager who had been the one to reveal my account to the Tilton family.
We all sat quietly and stared across the table at each other. I was reluctant to get excited about what appeared to be good news for me. These things didn’t normally favor a Jenson, but in all actuality, this was the Tiltons versus another Tilton, so who knew?
The arbitrator cleared his throat and stacked the papers in a neat pile. “I would normally recess and take a few days to render my decision. However, I’ve seen enough documentation to make my decision today.”
Everyone sat upright and placed their hands on the table. Mine were buried in my lap, too shaky to be shown to this group.Holy crap!I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt heavy, and I felt perspiration beading on my forehead.Holy fuck.Oh, my god. Breathe, Lucas. Just fucking breathe!
“I want to remind all parties that both sides agreed to binding arbitration. My decision today is final and there will be no opportunity to reopen my findings or to invalidate the decision I render today.” He cleared his throat and then took a drink from his glass of water. “Let me begin with this. This case should never have made it to court, in my humble opinion. There is indisputable evidence that Mr. Jenson is the biological son of Mr. Lachen Tilton. In fact, the lawyers representing the interests of the Tilton family do not contest that. Furthermore, the attorney for Mr. Jenson has clearly proven, beyond a doubt, that Lachen Tilton funded this savings account with money that was legally his. It was certainly his right to use it in any way he chose. Therefore, I find that Mr. Jenson is entitled to keep all assets accrued by his biological father. The court fees and attorney fees for Mr. Jenson’s representation will be paid by the petitioning party.” The arbitrator set the files and papers to the side and took a deep breath before turning his attention to the handsome stenographer. “This is officially off the record.” Then he turned back to the suits. “And on a personal note, let me say this. Your client should be ashamed of himself for putting his own grandson through this travesty. Mr. Jenson did nothing to invite such wrath except be born into a family that doesn’t accept him. Shame. This hearing is adjourned.”
I sat in stunned silence. Tears slid down my face as I realized that I had actually won. Not only did I get to keep the money Lachen had saved for me, but it was also acknowledged in a legal proceeding that I was a Tilton family member. However, something told me I wouldn’t be receiving any holiday invites.
The stenographer looked up from his device and caught my eye. His eyes were welling up, just like mine. He mouthed the words, “Good for you.”
CHAPTER-TWENTY: Perry
There were two soft knocks on my bedroom door. It was Michael dropping off my coffee and toast with a New York Times. Every morning, promptly at eight in the morning, he did this. You could set your clock to his predictability. I was lying in bed, having been awake for fifteen minutes or so. I reached for my phone to see if Lucas had bothered to respond yet to my numerous voice messages and texts. So far it had been forty-eight hours of radio silence. I knew what he must be thinking after hearing Chad on the other end of his call. I didn’t blame him, I would have thought the same worst-case scenarios myself.
My eyes landed on a framed picture of Jack that was on my nightstand. He was standing on the same beach outside our back door. His back was to the wind, and it had blown his hair forward, partially obscuring his handsome face. His smile was wide, with perfect teeth, and the photo caught him with his mouth open as he was laughing at me. We had been taking pics of each other while doing our best model poses. Of course, he was better, as usual. Well, to be fair, hewasan actual model. I reached for the photo and held it in front of me. I placed a kiss on his glassed-in face.
“I miss you, baby. It’s been a pathetic nine months without you.” I examined the image closely. He was standing on a heart that we had drawn in the sand, and it had been partially washed away by the surf. “There’s only half a heart left, Jack.” I examined the photo closer. I’d never noticed this before. It was a perfect half of a heart shape. “You took half of mine with you. I’m not sure what to do with the half I have left?” He continued to smile back from the photo. “You still have half, Perry.”What the fuck? Jack? Is that you?This was the first time since he died that I’d heard his voice speaking to me. Is this what Chad meant when he spoke with Jack? “You still have half, Perry.” I clearly heard him say it.
I puzzled over what that meant. What was I supposed to glean from his words? Half was better than none? I could still love, even with half? Don’t waste the half you have left? Where was the other half? My half. Where was it? Is that what he means? It suddenly dawned on me.Holy... that’s what you mean, isn’t it, Jack?
I gave him a quick kiss and swiftly positioned the photo back to where it came from. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts.Howard’s.There it is!The phone number to the gas station. The other half of my heart was working at a gas station, in Beaufort, South Carolina. That was what Jack was trying to tell me.You’re right, Jack. Thank you, my love.I knew what I needed to do. I tapped the number appearing on my screen.
“Howard’s garage, how can I help you?” his sweet, boyish voice answered. I was anxious and hesitated to speak. “Hello? Is anybody there?” he asked.
“It’s me, Lucas.” I was barely able to speak. My heart flooded with love, with hurt and pain. I felt my stomach lurch. “I tried calling your personal number, but you’re either not getting my messages, or you’re not wanting to hear from me.” There was silence on the other end of the line. My throat was clenching. “Are you there?”
