Читать книгу Bad Dad - Alice Shane - Страница 18

“What? Throw money at them just like that? How do I know he really needs a pickup truck? How do I know they won’t piss it away on drugs?” he said to Margo who had timidly broached the topic of giving “the kids” $4500 toward a down payment.

Lester had slipped back into his customary cynicism, his face flushed with anger that evening after dinner as they sat in the library where they normally discussed important matters – finances, travel plans, and, now, Mary Lou’s request for $4500.

A 20’ x 30’ room replete with a massive stone fireplace, the library was lined with mahogany bookcases stacked with weeks-old issues of the Wall Street Journal, The Economist, New York Times magazines, National Geographics and Architectural Digests, out-of-date bestsellers and collectors’ editions of books with faded cloth and leather covers. There were red and blue plaid upholstered chairs, a big leather easy chair which Lester practically lived in, a tufted leather sofa covered with plaid throws and pillows. Several love seats in the same plaid upholstery were positioned around the room.

“A down payment of $4500 is absolutely excessive for a small truck!” Lester spewed angrily. “I know what things cost. Does Mary Lou think I’m stupid? The little bitch is exaggerating the amount so she can get her hands on some money!”

“You’ve got a point,” Margo said calmly, noticing that his skin color had turned to a high crimson, a physical manifestation of Lester’s annoyance that would have worried her had they not discussed it with Dr. Bailey during his last physical which included a blood pressure check, blood tests, a stress test and an EKG, culminating in a clean bill of health.

While Margo was astonished at his vehemence, she was secretly pleased. She did not want these needy people in her life, but rejecting them would have to be Lester’s decision. Did he perceive their request for $4500 as blackmail? Reparations? Did they really need it? Lester may have millions, but he was not about to let his son hoodwink him.

“You haven’t seen Danny in a long time and don’t know what he’s really like at this point. Or the girl – we don’t know much about her, really,” Margo said, wanting to sound sensible, speaking in her journalist’s voice, the one she used when interviewing people with agendas, axes to grind or strong political views.

“I know more than I want to know,” Lester said finally, his voice trailing off ominously.

“What do you mean?” Margo asked, alarmed.

“I paid an investigator to do a background check on them. The kid’s name is registered under Mary Lou’s maiden name, Smith. They never legitimized Charlie – he doesn’t carry the Fuller name. For all I know, the kid may not be Danny’s. As I recall, his coloring was darker than Danny’s or mine or his mother’s when I last saw him. And here I’ve been thinking that we could do things for the boy – send him to private schools, summer camp. I was even considering drawing up a new will, setting up a trust. Now I don’t know what to think. It’s a shock, frankly.”

Lester’s acute disappointment was reflected in his voice which trailed off to a whisper when he noticed that Margo’s eyes had widened in disbelieve, her mouth turning downward with disapproval. He was now acutely aware that he had said precisely what Margo did not want to hear. He had used the wrong words, unfortunate phrasing. The words, ‘new will’ were dangerous to be sure. True, they were only words, but they carried weight. They could damage his marriage. He didn’t want to lose Margo, though at times he wondered if their relationship was all about his money, a disturbing insight he tried to believe was unfounded.

Margo sat there, stewing in bewilderment, her heart pounding. A new will? The thought of it took her breath away. These intruders could easily upset the balance of power in their marriage! She was now the primary beneficiary in Lester’s will, but that could change if he brought Danny into the picture. And what about their prenup? What would happen to that? And her place in Lester’s life – would she become irrelevant, shunted aside?

“A new will?” Margo gasped after a long silence, trying to sound calm, conceal the panic that surged with those words. Her fears that Lester might turn on her were becoming real. What was it about him that created this suspicion, this distrust, that she couldn’t rely upon him when the chips were down? Or were these feelings the hauntings of a dysfunctional childhood – her father’s unexpected death from sepsis at an early age, her mother’s multiple marriages, the suspicious deaths of her stepfathers that stirred fear and terror in her heart, even now.

Lester fell silent, taken aback by the bewildered expression on Margo’s face. Her hazel eyes widened with disbelief, her mouth, pink with shiny lip-gloss, tightened, seeming to disappear into her face. Her reactions made him uncomfortable. He wanted to get up and walk out of the room to avoid a confrontation, but he knew that would be disastrous. He would have to smooth this gaffe over, make her understand that they were talking about his son, his flesh and blood, and a little boy who was his grandson.

“I didn’t say I was going to change my will – I just said that I considered it because I want the boy to be taken care of. He is my grandson, you know – supposedly. Who knows why he doesn’t have the Fuller name – maybe she’s collecting welfare on his behalf. Or, maybe, Danny isn’t the father,” he theorized, his voice descending to a whisper. “We’ll find out soon enough,” Lester promised, noticing that Margo’s facial expression had become inscrutable.

“What do you mean by ‘soon enough?’” she asked, her heart pounding.

“I was thinking that we should make a trip down there. See what’s going on. How they live.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Margo said, relieved there was nothing ominous in this suggestion. In fact, it made sense. Her paranoia was kicking in, she realized. She decided to be agreeable.