Chapter 5: The Brother in Texas
Julian saw her hand.
"Give me the phone, Mom."
"Julian, this is not—"
"Give me the phone."
She pulled it out slowly.
He took it from her and looked at the missed call screen.
Derek.
He stared at it for a long moment.
Then he set the phone on the table between us, face-up, and pressed redial.
He put it on speaker before it even started ringing.
It rang twice.
"Mom?" Derek's voice came through the speaker.
Casual.
Unbothered.
"Did you talk to him yet?
Because I need another transfer by Friday.
The contractor won't start the second phase without the deposit and I already told him—"
"It's not Mom," Julian said.
Silence.
"Julian." Derek's tone changed completely.
The ease drained out of it.
"Hey.
I didn't know you'd be—"
"Another transfer," Julian said.
"By Friday."
"Look, it's a business investment.
Mom explained the whole—"
"How much have you taken, Derek?"
"I haven't taken anything.
Mom agreed to—"
"How much."
A long pause.
"You'd have to ask Mom for the exact—"
"I have the exact figures in front of me.
I want to hear you say it."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"It's a loan," Derek said finally.
"I'm going to pay it back."
"Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
Nothing from the other end.
"Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars of my salary, Derek.
That Mom told me was in a protected investment account.
That I worked for.
That I believed was building a future for my family." Julian's voice stayed level.
That was the frightening part.
"And you need more by Friday."
"Julian, if you'd just let me explain the project—"
"I don't want to hear about the project." He reached over and ended the call.
The three of us stood in the kitchen.
The ramen had gone completely cold.
The broth had stopped steaming.
Eleanor spoke first.
"He is your brother."
"I know who he is."
"Family supports family.
That is what we do.
That is what I have always taught you."
"You taught me that." Julian nodded slowly.
"You also taught me that a wife is replaceable.
That her job is to not get in the way.
That her money is less real than mine because she stays home." He looked at me.
"How long have you known about Derek?"
"Richard flagged the first transfer eight months ago," I said.
"He brought it to me because the originating account was connected to the property.
He wanted to make sure I was aware."
"Eight months." Julian closed his eyes briefly.
"And you said nothing."
"I was waiting to see if you knew."
"Did you think I knew?"
"I didn't know what you knew.
I only knew what I could prove."
He absorbed that.
Turned back to his mother.
"Did you tell Derek about the baby?"
Eleanor's chin lifted again.
"Of course I did.
He's going to be an uncle."
"Did you tell him we were struggling?
That Vivian was paying for groceries out of her own savings?
That I thought we were broke?"
"I managed the household as I saw fit—"
"Did you tell him, Mom?"
She said nothing.
"Because if Derek knew we were short and he still asked you for more money—" Julian stopped.
Picked up his jacket from the back of the chair.
Set it down again.
"I need to make a phone call."
"Julian." Eleanor moved toward him.
"Whatever you are thinking, you need to slow down.
This is family.
You do not bring outsiders into family business."
"Richard Calloway has been Vivian's attorney for eleven years," Julian said.
"He already knows everything.
He's been watching this for eight months." He looked at her steadily.
"We're already outside, Mom.
We've been outside for a long time.
I just didn't know it."
He picked up his jacket.
Walked to the hallway.
"Julian." Eleanor's voice sharpened.
"If you call that attorney tonight, I will tell Derek to contest the property.
He has grounds.
You were married when the penthouse was in use.
Community property laws—"
Julian stopped walking.
He turned around very slowly.
I spoke before he could.
"The penthouse was purchased and fully paid for before our marriage.
It has never been listed as a marital asset.
Richard structured it specifically to prevent that claim.
Derek has no grounds.
Neither do you."
Eleanor stared at me.
"But thank you," I said, "for telling me that was your next move."
She had nothing left.
I could see it — the exact moment her last card disappeared from her hand.
Julian looked at her for a long moment.
Then he walked down the hallway.
I heard the door to the study close quietly behind him.
Eleanor and I were alone in the kitchen.
She sat down at the table.
For the first time all evening, she looked her age.
"You planned this," she said.
Not an accusation.
Almost a question.
"I prepared for it," I said.
"There's a difference."
She looked at the cold ramen.
"What happens now?"
Before I could answer, my phone rang.
Not Richard this time.
May you like
A number I hadn't seen in over two years.
My father.
