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For once, my brother looks embarrassed. “Yes.” That’s all the answer I get. He walks over to the table and chairs by the windows, sitting in one and placing the briefcase on the table between them. Tearing myself away from the photo collage on the wall, I take the seat across from him.
This section of the large living room is set up like an area for cards or games. A long, white couch sits in the middle of the room, facing a TV, and on the other side of that, wall-to-wall bookcases surround a lone leather reading chair and floor lamp.
It’s oddly homey. I would’ve pictured Thomas in a tall, dark skyscraper, in some minimalist condo decorated in black and chrome. You know, a villain’s lair.
I need a hobby. My imagination is getting out of hand.
“Mom told you about Liz?” His suit jacket is gone, and his sleeves are rolled up. It’s a more relaxed look on him. One I don’t remember seeing before.
“Yeah.” I can’t help but glance back at the photos he took. “How long have you known?” And why am I the last to know everything?
“Not long before you. Just after I quit.”
“After?”
He nods. “I don’t actually think we ever would’ve known except that Mom came across some paperwork having to do with Liz’s shares, and she panicked.”
Stan’s words about disinheriting her come to mind. “What about Liz’s shares?”
“Stan’s been stealing from Liz since she was eighteen and gained her shares.”
I stand, bumping the table. The briefcase slides off, papers spilling onto the carpet. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Another thought runs through my head. “Wait, did you know? All this time? Did you know he was stealing from Liz?”
“First,” he says, still calm, “fuck you.” He gets up from his chair and crouches down to gather the strewn papers. “Second, if you remember, I tried to tell you.” He shoots me a look. “You wouldn’t take my calls.”
Damn it. He’s right.
I help him gather the few remaining sheets. “Sorry.”
“About what? Thinking I condoned stealing from our sister?” The sneer in his tone indicates exactly how he feels about that.
“Um, yeah.” I run my free hand through my hair, feeling like a chastened kid. “And, you know, for not returning your calls.”
He nods once before standing. “Apology accepted.” He waits for me to stand before gesturing to the chairs. “Shall we try this again?”
I laugh, uneasy. “Sure.” Once settled, I can’t help but ask, “Do you think this is why Mom didn’t want to be here? Because she figured we’d come to blows?”
“Actually, I think Mom wanted us to do this without her so we’d have a chance to stop fighting and work together.”
“Oh.”
We’re silent for a minute before Thomas drops another bomb on me. “I quit because Dad was, and is, having an affair with Denise Hampson.”
“When—”
Thomas cuts me off with a raised hand. “This will go a lot faster if you stop interrupting and stay seated.”
I glance down to find I’m half out of my chair again. Clearing my throat, I drop back onto the cushion. “Ah, yes. Probably.”
In his clear and concise way, Thomas tells me how he quit after finding out about the affair. He’d thought if he walked away, our father would wise up.
Stan didn’t.
Then Mom, suspicious herself, snooped through our father’s office and wound up finding documents that proved Stan was stealing money from Liz’s shares. Shares that were supposed to be going into her trust until she turns twenty-five, when she gets full, legal access.
Stan’s already bought a two-million-dollar love-nest penthouse and a Tesla for Denise, in addition to siphoning a bunch of money into an offshore account.
While I’m still processing this, Thomas outlines his plan to take care of Stan and reclaim Liz’s money.
