CHAPTER SEVEN

Brew

Feeling much calmer, I follow my mother into Dad’s study. His lawyer is already sitting at the desk, looking over what I can only assume is Dad’s will. The fucking thing is as thick as a book, a long book at that. There is no doubt in my mind the old man had a lot to say, and I’m not going to like a fucking word of it.

“Good, we’re all here.” The lawyer stands up, motioning for my mother and sister to take a seat on the couch.

I drag Addy along, taking a seat in front of the desk and pulling her into my lap. This probably isn’t the time to have my old lady sitting in my lap, but I need her close. Without her, I won’t ever make it through the next few minutes.

My brother-in-law, James, takes the seat beside me, looks at me, and snarls, “She has no reason to be here. Your father never even met her, so there is no way she is mentioned in the will.”

“I don’t mind waiting outside,” Addy whispers, just for my ears.

I shake my head, squeezing her tight, and then look back to James. “She goes, then I go too. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”

He starts to open his mouth but the lawyer speaks up, cutting him off. “Without Isaac, I will not be able to read the will today, so you may want to consider your response carefully.”

Dad has had the same lawyer since I was a kid. They were friends in college and that friendship led to a lifelong business relationship. I never quite understood how they were friends though. Where my dad was an uptight prick, Mr. Reed has always been easygoing and friendly. Still, they made it work somehow.

The dickhead narrows his eyes at the lawyer and says, “He can stay, but there is no reason for his wife to be here since she isn’t in the will.”

Mr. Reed leans forward, obviously tired of Trina’s husband’s mouth. “As far as Mrs. Decker not being mentioned in the will, neither are you, so it would probably be best if we cut the theatrics and just get started.”

My lips curve into a smile when shock fills my brother-in-law’s face. The asshole obviously thought he was getting something. Knowing my dad, he probably kept this fucker on a short leash with promises of his bite of the family fortune. With all the years he has been in this family, he should have realized my father has never been good at keeping promises.

“I believe that would be wise because I am ready for this to be over,” Aunt Joyce states, taking a seat across the room from my mother.

It takes a second for Mr. Reed to sit back down and grab the will. He drones on and on, listing the donations my father left to charities. Of course, each charity was local and none of the donations were unanimous, so the people of our hometown would remember him in the brightest of lights. He then moves on to the trust set up to care for Annaglade. Just listening to it, I realize he loved this place more than he ever loved any of us.

“To my sister, Joyce,” Mr. Reed says, still looking at the paper. “I leave fifty percent ownership of Annaglade and Decker Creamery, as provided in father and grandfather’s will. I also give you complete ownership of the peach orchard in Decatur.”

I have to blink in surprise when I hear about the peach orchard. That was my father’s pride and joy, the thing that originally brought our family its fortune. Money from that orchard is how my ancestors bought Annaglade and later to start the Decker Creamery.

Finally, the lawyer clears his throat and looks toward my mother. “To my wife, I leave a monthly allowance of six-thousand dollars and the right to live out her final days at Annaglade or in the guest house, if the new occupant prefers. You will be given a one-time lump sum of three-hundred thousand dollars and use of the country house in Macon. If, at any time, you decide to remarry, the allowance will stop, and you will have thirty days to vacate Annaglade.”

“What?” my mother screeches, jumping up from her seat. “That can’t be right.”

Mr. Reed and Mom go back and forth for a minute, but she finally plops back down on the couch with a very unladylike pout on her face. With most women, an allowance of six-thousand dollars a month would be way more than enough. Mom, on the other hand, could blow that much on a pair of shoes. Not to mention, the three-hundred thousand dollar pay off. She would run through that in a month.

“To my only daughter, Christina,” Mr. Reed says, looking my sister’s way. “I leave one dollar and the hope she will finally learn to do more than look pretty.”

The sounds of shouts hit my ears, but I am too stunned to pay attention. My mind is running a million miles a minute, trying to comprehend what I just heard. I’ve always assumed Trina was Dad’s favorite. Guess, I was wrong. The old man must have been disappointed with both of his children.

A fist slamming on the desk draws my attention back to my surroundings. I’m not surprised at all to see my brother-in-law losing his shit. I guess, in his eyes, for him to not receive anything is one thing, but for my sister to receive nothing, is unheard of. He is screaming so loud that his face is red and spittle is flying from his lips. For a minute, it’s almost comical but when he stands up and raises his hand to Mr. Reed, I decide it is time for the fun to come to an end.

Moving Addy from my lap, I stand up and grab James’s collar and force him back into his seat. “Settle your ass down.”

“Get your hands off me!” he shouts, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

Deciding to push that fear, I place my face inches from his and whisper, “Open your mouth one more time, and I’ll finish the job I started when I was sixteen.”

When he seals his lips, I sit back down and pull Addy into my lap again. The whole time, my eyes never leave his. I nearly killed this man once before, and I have no problem finishing him off now. In fact, watching the life drain from his eyes would be a fucking pleasure. As a kid, I had no damn idea what I was doing, and that lack of knowledge led me to prison. This time, I know what I’m doing, and his body would never be found.

“To my grandchildren,” Mr. Reed starts, as if the whole room hadn’t just erupted. “Each of the six will receive funds to cover their further education and three-hundred and fifty thousand dollars on their twenty-fifth birthday.”

Again, I blink, shocked as shit. Six, he actually said six. That means the old man remembered Cam. After coming here, I discovered that my parents knew all about my life, including Addy and my kids. I’m not sure how. It could have been Aunt Joyce keeping him up to date, but I’m guessing Dad hired a private investigator. He always liked to keep tabs on what he considered his property. To him, my sister and I were never anything more than property.

Addy grabs my hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “He included Cam.”

I look over at her, seeing the astonishment in her eyes. “Yeah, baby, he did.”

I can see the hope in her face, hope that my father wasn’t nearly as much of an ass as we thought he was. I wish I could tell her that he was a good man, but the truth is he was the worst kind of a man. The kind of man that used his money to play with people’s lives. I’m not sure how, but this money is no different.

“To my only son, Isaac,” the lawyer says, drawing my attention to him. “I leave the rest of my earthly possessions, including stocks, bonds, savings, which were worth five point two million at the time this was written. You will also receive fifty-percent ownership of Decker Creamery and Annaglade, as was ordered in my father’s will.”

I’m shocked, so shocked that I can’t keep my mouth from dropping open. The old man left all that to me, the child he threw away years ago. It makes no fucking sense. When I was alone, scared, not sure if I was going to make it another day, I wanted nothing more than my father to save me. Of course, he did nothing. Now, when I don’t want a damn thing to do with his money, he leaves it all to me. It makes no damn sense.

“No!” Trina screeches, running over and grabbing the will from Mr. Reed’s hand. “I was supposed to get it all, the money, the creamery, all of it. That’s what was promised to me, not my brother that hasn’t even been around in years.”

I ignore her and look at my old lady and whisper, “I don’t want his money.”

She immediately nods and says, “Then give it away.”

She makes it sound so simple, but it’s not. Sure, we can give any money away; there are a ton of charities that could use the funds. Hell, I could just put it into the club. As soon as that thought takes root, a smile spreads across my face. Our problems are solved. That kind of cash will keep our club solvent for years, make my brothers’ lives a hell of a lot easier, and Trix’s medical bills will be completely covered.

My only worry is Decker Creamery. It provides jobs to thousands of people across the United States. Any decision I make about it, I will have to keep those workers in mind. I can’t just sell off my percentage without considering who it would hurt.

“I’m not sure what your father told you,” the lawyer says, trying to calm my sister. “But, the creamery and all funds connected to it was not your fathers to give away. Division of the Decker family fortune was set out in your great-grandfather’s will. Your father was to control the assets, providing an allowance to Joyce. Upon your father’s death, everything was to be split equally between Isaac, Joyce, and Michael if he were alive at the time of your father’s death. If he was deceased, which he is, everything was to be shared equally between Isaac and Joyce, and there was nothing your father could do to change that.”

“What?” my mother shouts, just as my sister asks, “What about the money? Dad had money of his own. Why didn’t I get that?”

“Most of the money was property of the Decker family, and the division of it was already covered in your grandfather’s will,” Mr. Reed explains before going on to say, “Your father had control of only what was gained from his investments. He used that to set up the fund for your mother and to cover his grandchildren’s inheritance.”

Ah, now I understand. This has nothing to do with Dad. This was my great-grandfather’s doing. My great-grandfather only had one child, my grandfather. Then, my grandfather had three children: my father, Aunt Joyce, and Uncle Michael that died when I was a teenager. My great-grandfather loved all his grandkids but he only liked two of them. He never had much use for Dad, always calling him a little weasel. I’m sure if I had been a bit older when he died, his choice of words would have been more colorful. Bottom line, he didn’t trust Dad or even his own son, my grandfather. Like me, he could see through the veneer they showed the world. I was different than the two of them, and my great-grandfather was never ashamed to admit that he valued my integrity more. Hearing that he didn’t make any provisions for my sister, I guess he saw a lot of my father in her too.

“I, for one, think this is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. It should’ve been this way many years ago; it’ll be good to see a real man lead this family once again,” Aunt Joyce says, pulling me from my thoughts.

With that, she leaves the room with a smile on her face. Watching her leave, I realize she knew what was in the will and she was chomping at the bit for everyone to find out its contents. She has never liked my mom, and I can tell she doesn’t like the woman my sister has grown up to be. She wanted to be here for this, to hear the reading of the will and all it said. She wanted to see the two women get what they deserved. Now that it’s over, I’m glad I got to see it too.

“Is that all?” I ask the lawyer, wanting to get away from all the whining coming from the other occupants in the room.

“We will need to discuss a few things before you leave,” he says, looking toward my enraged mother and sister. “We can do that later, after we have all had a few minutes to calm down.”

“I’ll find you before I leave town.” I stand up, pulling Addy along with me, and follow Aunt Joyce out of the room.