Chapter 4 - THE MONEY BETWEEN US
Emily waited until morning to continue the conversation.
Lily sat near the television watching cartoons with the sound low.
I placed coffee on the small hotel table.
Emily did not touch hers.
“How much else?”
I knew exactly what she meant.
“Vanessa’s boutique rent.”
“How much?”
“Eight thousand a month.”
“For how long?”
“Three years.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Anything else?”
“My parents’ property taxes.”
“My father’s medical insurance.”
“Vanessa’s business loan guarantee.”
Each answer pushed us farther apart.
“You told me we could not afford to help my mother repair her furnace,” Emily said.
“I remember.”
“You said we had to be responsible.”
“I remember.”
“Your mother stayed in one cold room for two weeks.”
Shame burned through me.
“I sent her money later.”
“After she borrowed it from a church friend.”
“Yes.”
Emily’s voice remained controlled.
“That is why Margaret thinks I am trash.”
“She knows you taught me that her comfort comes before my family’s needs.”
“I never believed that.”
“You financed it.”
I had built my life around avoiding conflict with Margaret.
Whenever she demanded money, I told myself I was helping my father.
Whenever Vanessa failed, I called the payment an investment.
Whenever Emily questioned our finances, I gave her partial answers.
I thought secrecy kept peace.
It simply decided who paid for it.
My phone rang again.
This time, the caller was Claire Morgan, my attorney.
“Merry Christmas,” she said cautiously.
“I received an unusual document last night.”
“What document?”
“A request to transfer your ownership interest in Cole Family Manufacturing.”
I stood.
“I did not authorize a transfer.”
“The document carries your electronic signature.”
“To whom?”
“The Margaret Cole Family Trust.”
My mother had created a trust using her name.
Vanessa was listed as successor manager.
The company had been founded by my father.
After his bankruptcy, I purchased the remaining assets and rebuilt it.
Margaret publicly referred to it as the family company.
Legally, I owned eighty-two percent.
Someone was trying to move those shares.
Claire continued.
“The request also claims you are temporarily impaired by marital stress.”
Emily heard enough to understand.
My mother was not only trying to access money.
She was preparing to take the company.
“Freeze everything,” I said.
“Already done.”
“I need you and Emily in my office tomorrow.”
“Why Emily?”
“Because another document claims she is coercing you.”
I looked at my wife.
May you like
Margaret had insulted her, struck her, and then used our departure as evidence that Emily controlled me.
By morning, the family had turned my first act of loyalty into a legal attack against her.
