CHAPTER 11: $300,000 DOLLARS AND THE MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION

JUSTIN:

As Brian opens the door, Mom steps through.  

“Hi, honey,” she says, giving him a gentle kiss and pat on the cheek. I have to stand and marvel for a moment over how their relationship has grown over the past two years. Not so long ago, my mother couldn’t stand Brian. Even after she’d asked him to take me in after the bashing, their interactions were a bit stilted, until one day they just weren’t anymore. One day, I’ll have to ask her what really changed her opinion of him. She crosses over to me and gives me a similar greeting, including the word ‘sweetheart’ and an accompanying hug.

“Hi, Mom. Would you like some tea or something?” I accompany her to the sofa now facing the bayview windows.

“I wouldn’t mind some and then we can talk about your phone call. I also have some news to share with the both of you that couldn’t wait. This place looks great.”

“Thanks. Emmett set us up with a guy he knows,” Brian answers.

“From the looks and quality of the furniture, I would say the gentleman’s name is Horatio.”

“You know him? But then you must have become a regular down on Liberty Avenue, Mother Taylor.”

“Very funny, Brian. And yes, I just happen to know Horatio and use him quite frequently to stage houses. He and his partner, Marvin, although you know him best as Mysterious Marilyn, do fabulous work. They’ve both been traveling abroad until a week ago. I’m thinking these are the pieces they must have picked up from Florence or Valencia, Italy.”

“Definitely high-quality stuff, but I thought that they outsource from a warehouse or something?”

“No, Brian. They don’t, which is why their fees are so expensive. They would rather go and look and pick out the furniture themselves rather than rely on the internet, or the opinions of others. It’s why they are considered one of the best in the business and have the implicit trust of their clientele.”

“Well if all goes according to plan, hopefully they will consider using Kinnetik as their advertising firm.”

“Kinnetik?”

“Yes, Mom,” I interject, having brought over her cup of tea, and cups of coffee for Brian and me. “Brian and I have decided to open an ad agency once Gardner agrees to pay Brian what’s owed to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that when Gardner ousted Brian out of the company, he should have returned all of the funds Brian used to buy into the partnership.”

She turns to Brian and asks, “I thought the partnership was a stipulation in your contract. Am I mistaken?”

He smiles at her. “No, Jen, you’re not. What I did to cement the partnership was forego my commission when Brown Athletics signed with Vanguard. For that fifteen million dollar contract, my commission would have been $150K, alone. Considering that I poured my bonuses for that and another six contracts I acquired at the time, roughly Gardner owes me about $650,000 plus interest.”

“Oh my God, I had no idea you were making that much!”

“Indeed. Which is why he’s counting on not paying me. But Mel said that he would be a fool to want to take this all to court. In Gardner’s case, any publicity regarding my termination would bring bad press, and he really can’t afford a scandal. He already has his hands full trying to placate the accounts I was forced to leave behind because Stockwell threw a temper tantrum.”

“So, three-hundred thousand dollars would go a long way to help in recouping that money?”

“It would go a long way to helping us start building the company sooner, Mom. But what are you talking about?” I picked up on that sly inflection in her voice, although I’m not sure Brian noticed.

She places her teacup down in the coffee table and reaches into her purse. Fumbling around a little, she withdraws an envelope and hands it to Brian before turning to me. “I had a very interesting visit tonight when I got home from another boring Realtors Association meeting. They were the committee members of a group called Fly Free…”

“I’ve heard of them. They do a lot of charity work for runaways and disadvantaged people.”

“Yes, Honey, they do. But tonight was a bit different. You see, I learned that many of them were in situations like Jason Kemp’s family. In fact, his twin sister was there as well. Jason’s story was so much more than what we were able to dig up, but she came to thank me- to thank all of us- for allowing her and her husband to have closure. Her mom is in jail for killing her stepfather who was the cause of Jason leaving home. But anyway, they wanted to help out the heroes who prevented James Stockwell from being elected. So Judge Stone and the committee presented me with this check and asked me to give it to the two of you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Brian exclaims, getting up from the chair and pacing around.

“What? What’s wrong, Brian?” I ask, startled and worried about his outburst. Yes, Brian has an explosive temper, but even that is coldly silent and menacing most of the time.

“Oh, Honey. Nothing is wrong with Brian. If he was anything like me when they handed me that check, he’s in shock.”

“Why?”

“Brian, give me the envelope.” He begins to hand it to her but seems to have trouble letting it go completely. “I’ll give it back, I promise. But Justin will go into a panic if he doesn’t see it for himself. You know how he is.” I see her roll her eyes and am hard pressed not to retort as Brian literally has to pry the fingers of his left hand off of the envelope.

Wordlessly she hands it to me, and honestly I can’t see for the blurriness of tears leaking from my eyes. “I’m not dreaming or seeing things am I? It really is a check for $300,000 dollars.”

“Yes, Sweetheart, it is. Eighty grand of it is what was donated from his sister, Jasmine. It’s from his estate. You see, Jason was born into a well-to-do family much like you were. Honestly, the similarities between your stories are uncanny.”

“I would like to meet her sometime, if possible, and thank her personally. I think I can safely speak for Brian when I say that we will open up an account in the name of the Concerned Citizens for Truth so that his life will never have been in vain. The eighty grand will go a long way in ensuring that men like Stockwell and Reichert, or organizations with hate in their hearts aimed at our community won’t have an easy time of overtaking us.”

“Sunshine’s right, Jen. That portion of the money will certainly go back into the community, but we would like to keep it under wraps. We don’t want every charity and do gooder knocking at our door until that money literally gets wasted and is nowhere to be found when we have to assert ourselves again. There is always going to be some bully coming after us because we’re different. Better to have the cash on hand to fight back, than to have this happen to us again. In the meantime, with the other portion of the money, we’ll start Kinnetik and every year donate a portion of the profits to CCFT and the Fly Free Initiative. We’re not activists by any means; just sick of being sitting ducks for bigots.”

“I think that’s a great idea, darlings. And when you’re ready to find office space for Kinnetik, let me know. I think I may have a few properties that would work well with both of your styles. Now, about the reason for your call… Justin, your message was a bit vague. What’s going on?”

I sigh. “First Mom, let me ask a hypothetical question before I explain everything we think so far. If you had an influx of cash technically gained through illegal means, what would you do with the money?”

“Well that depends…”

“On?” Brian asks, sitting next to me. Based on our conversation with the others earlier, I know he wants to know if my thought-process isn’t as far-fetched as it may seem where Michael is concerned. On the surface, Michael just doesn’t seem that fucking smart, but then we all thought that he wouldn’t be a thief either, and look where underestimating him has gotten us. To put it plainly, Michael is a master manipulator and we’re all just catching on.

“Well if it were me, depending on how much of an influx I’ve gained either over time, or immediately, I would probably invest it to increase the initial profit, since there’s no telling the next time would be that I would receive another lump sum. But...”

“But?” I ask, and I think I know where she’s going with this.

“Considering any deposits over ten thousand dollars would have to be reported to the IRS, I would hold onto it and deposit in increments, unless I earmark that money for specific purpose.”

“Oh, like let’s say, a down payment on property?”

“Exactly. Now, mind telling me what that hypothetical question was really about?”

I sigh. “Michael has been embezzling the profits from Rage from the very beginning… actually, since we formed the partnership to work on the comic. But even more than that, we think he was responsible for the break-in that happened back when Brian and I first got together.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I wish I was. A number of things that were listed in Brian’s original police report were on an itemized bill of sale within a hidden set of accounting ledgers, titled The Real Rage. The problem is…”

“Ah, and now I understand the Debbie reference in your message. You’re planning to take action.”

“Yes, both of us are,” Brian answered. I look at him in shock, but he just waves it away. “I told you I was done, Sunshine. The fact that Michael had me blaming you, and had you paying me back for a credit card bill that never should have been incurred in the first place… Well that’s just bullshit. And I’m tired of putting up with it and being expected to let the shit he does go. And yes, it included the last time when I punched him too. I’ve never forgiven him, and he never even fucking apologized, but I just let it go! I mean, who would’ve believed that he was such a callous bastard. It would have been a case of ‘Oh that’s just Michael. You know he didn’t mean it like that’. But the thing is he did mean it! And he still means it, Justin. Which is evident by the shit he’s pulled. He’s going to pay this time, but how he does is entirely up to him.”

I’m simply blown away by Brian’s impassioned speech, and I think Mom is too, based on the stunned look upon her face. I turn to her, and say, “The thing is, we know this is going to split the family up unless we can stop Deb from doing what she always does. I don’t know why she expects everyone to let Michael’s fuck ups go, but I’m sure that she will expect no less of me this time. Only, I’m not backing off of him no matter what or who I lose because of this. I would hate to lose her as my surrogate mom. After all, she was there when you didn’t know how to be. But Michael knew I needed that money to live on and deliberately withheld it from me for whatever warped reason he has in his mind. It was owed to me and I earned it, especially considering what it actually took for me to be able to draw the comic in the first place. Michael has cheated me out of so much more than money, and I think he knows that.”

I drop my eyes in remembrance of the days and nights of chronic pain I was constantly pushing through to meet deadlines both for class and the comic. And let’s not even talk about the times working on the comic took away from Brian and I, which I suspect made the little bastard gleeful. Sometimes I think the nights of exhaustion only served to ensure that Brian would be able to go out without me and allow Michael to engage in tricking by proxy. Emmett told me about Michael’s hobby of watching Brian in action. But I wonder if it was just a hobby?

Mom interrupts my reverie, and says, “What is it you really think he invested in, Justin?”

Brian answers her. “Sunshine seems to think Michael would have invested in real estate somewhere.”

“Well that’s an interesting theory. Any particular place in mind.”

I snicker. “Where else but Palm Springs?” At Brian’s look of disbelief, I laugh harder. “It would be the place all his dreams would come true.”

“But he would never leave Debbie again. Remember Portland?”

“Please! It wasn’t his Maw he was despondent of ditching. It was YOU,” I point out. “If he could have you, he would say fuck Debbie in a heartbeat without even saying goodbye.”

“Justin, watch your mouth,” Mom scolds, even though there’s a twinkle in her eye. It’s then that I know I have a true ally in my theory. “Well there is one simple way to dispel the myths and expose a little fact, but I need your computer. Do you mind, Brian?”

“Not at all. Just boot it up. I haven’t put a password on it since it’s just Justin and I here, and I trust him implicitly.” I feel the tears welling up at his admission. He sticks his tongue in his cheek, and tells me, “Don’t get moist.” I just snicker at his automatic snarky remark when he does something incredibly sweet.

Brian and I sit on the sofa talking quietly, making plans for all the things we need to do for the company we’re starting. The first thing we agree on is that we need to contact Cynthia in the morning and find out if she’s willing to leave Vanguard. Brian is pretty certain that she will, and may even have an idea about future staffing should we have the need to expand quickly. We discuss the possibilities of having Ted come and work for us. Surprisingly, Brian is all for that idea, providing he is ready. Both of us want to help him get back on his feet as soon as possible, but it has to be in Ted’s time, not ours. We also agreed to have Mel speed up the process of putting the screws to Vance. When the subject of returning to PIFA comes up, I tell Brian that I don’t think I want to. I can take the credits I obtained from there and go to Mellon instead. We were going to discuss the merits of that when Mom yells…

“Got you, you fucker!”

“Language!” I call back at her, and Brian bursts out laughing as we move closer to where she is at the computer. “What have you found and how did you find it? It’s not something that could cause you jail time, is it?”

“Don’t be silly, Darling. I’m a perfectly upstanding and respectable citizen, unlike that short shrimp, Michael Novotny. I found the property he bought on the MLS website that all of us Brokers use. Real estate agents only have a fraction of the resources listed on this particular site, so it helps that I’m now eligible to open my own business when I’m ready. Anyway, you were right about the location of the house. It is indeed in Palm Springs, California. It’s nestled within a very upscale neighborhood but close enough to downtown to be acceptable to Brian. The property was listed for $990K but was sold for $840K. But here’s the kicker… the name of the owner is not Michael Novotny. Look here...”

Brian and I stand on either side of her and peer at the screen. I gasp in shock as I look where her finger is pointing. Brian’s “You gotta be shitting me!” is the only sound in the loft as we all continue to see what we never thought we would.

“You boys see it, right? The house is not owned by Michael per se, although there is no doubt he paid for it. It’s owned by Debbie.”

Brian shakes his head. “And things just got a whole lot worse… FUCK!”

DEBBIE:

“Nice to see you too, Debbie.” He tells me as he steps into my house without waiting for a proper invitation. “As for what I want, a seat, since I’m waiting for my partner to pick me up from here,” Rodney tells me.

“Look, as far as I’m concerned, you can wait outside with that attitude.”

“Don’t give me attitude and I won’t dish it back to you. It’s quite simple really and a concept you have yet to learn when you aren’t dealing with one of your lost boys. You have to give respect to get it, and since I’m just a smidge younger than you, that goes double for me.”

I roll my eyes at my brother’s boy toy, although that probably wouldn’t be accurate in Rodney’s case. He’s only a year younger than Vic and three years younger than me. But this is still my house! “Regardless, you should have called to tell me you were coming. I mean, it’s not like you live here.”

“And neither will Vic in a week or so. Is that what’s really bothering you, Deb?” He taunts. “House starting to feel a little lonely without your brother and that grown infant you birthed?”

“You leave Michael out of this!”

“Why? What’s he done now? Or from the looks of you, you must be going through whining withdrawal, which means you have no business to interfere in right now and therefore no purpose in your own eyes. Take my advice, Deb. Cut the apron strings before he strangles you with them!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Of course, I do. After all, I’m a psychiatrist, but decided that I got more joy out of teaching than treating reality-deflecting, unreasonably-rationalizing patients such as you and your son.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that although there is nothing psychologically wrong with you or your spoiled offspring, you choose to keep him codependent on you and everyone else around you. My question is, what are you going to do when all the others decide they no longer want to be part of your program and start to break away from the Novotny Borg Collective? Vic is the first to do so; I suspect Brian is about to defect, too.”

“Brian would never do that! He…”

“Owes you? Is that what you were about to say? It certainly isn’t a matter of love with you, is it? Well, I know that Vic got tired of paying, and now that Justin is back where he belongs, and that’s with Brian, in case you’ve missed the memo, I doubt that Brian will be too far behind.”

“I…”

“No, Deb. Just no. There is nothing you can say or do to make me think that I’m not seeing what I see regarding you. You think if you keep everyone under your thumb to bail Michael out of whatever shenanigans he’s making for himself this time, once again you won’t have to own up to the fact that you tried to overcompensate for his fatherless existence, thereby creating a spoiled fucking brat. Well here’s a clue for you, and take it to do with what you will. Michael has been gone for two months, and other than you, no one has missed him. Instead, we’ve watched you twist yourself in knots when he doesn’t call by a certain time. It’s been both entertaining and sickening to watch at the same time. Personally, I’ve wanted to recommend you see someone who could prescribe you Valium many times, but I refrained because I love Vic more than I would ever be concerned with you. It would hurt him to suggest his sister is sick, when there is really nothing wrong except the fear of being left behind. But since I am a caring individual, even where you’re concerned to a small degree, I’m going to recommend that you start small. Don’t answer the phone when Michael calls, just once, so he can see how it feels to have his calls ignored by his Maw. Because contrary to your belief, I’m sure that’s exactly what he’s doing to you every time you call and he has no need for you right then.”

Thankfully Vic came in as soon as he finished his sentence, and they left. I really can’t stand the bastard who turned my brother’s head so much that he’s actually planning to leave me. See? I knew him starting that business with Emmett was going to give him ideas that he didn’t need me anymore. I should have discouraged it, but Brian told them he would invest in their dream if Vic would take his foot the fuck out of the grave and get the fuck on with the business of living. That’s the other part of the reason I’ve been willing to go with Vic to bring food and supplies to loft. I wanted to see if there was any new information on Michael of course, but I also wanted to make sure that no deep conversations would go on. Which I knew wouldn’t happen with me present . Anything that they didn’t want me to know wouldn’t be discussed, and I know that during the day and most evenings, Vic is busy with Emmett, Rodney, or a catering job. So I didn’t worry that Vic would have time to happen up at the loft. I suppose that I worried mostly that Vic had noticed when I’d left my bank statements, and a bill of sale for a house that I will never live in, but purchased for Michael since his credit is so fucking bad out on the table. I just didn’t need him running to Brian to tell him what I’d done for Michael, once again putting myself in hock. I mean, it’s not like Brian can bail me out of my financial troubles this time anyway; he has his own. So mine are none of his fucking business, and he could save the lectures for himself! I pick up the phone again to dial Michael’s number, and again! It rolls to voicemail.

“Michael, this is your mother. I suggests you call me soon, or I’m going to take that house out of my name. Call me right back, you hear?!” I slam down the receiver, thankful that unlike most people, I kept the rotary phone on the wall.

MELANIE:

I’m dog-fucking-tired as I come into the house. To say that it has been a long day is an understatement, and all I want to do is climb into bed and go to sleep. Then wake up and do it all again tomorrow. Sadly, Lindsay has other ideas.

“Where the fuck have you been, Mel? I’ve been calling your cell phone for hours!”

“I was working. Was there some emergency?”

“No. But what if there was? And by the way, I called your office phone too, and there was no answer. So again, I ask, Where. Were. You?!”

“And again I answer, I was working! You know you might try it instead of prancing your ass around that gallery part-time. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to continue pulling so many long hours and we could cut your bitching sessions to just half the fucking time!”

“I like my job just fine, and I wouldn’t be bitching if you were home at a decent hour.”

“You’re so full of shit, Lindsay. It’s just past ten o’clock on a night that I would normally be at the office late anyway. What you really want to know is if I was with Brian and Justin. The answer is yes, I was.”

“I thought you said you were working…”

“I am. They have something they want me to look into for them.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Attorney-client privilege or in layman’s terms, none of your business.”

“But… but Mel, I’m your wife!”

“And that has fuck all to do with what?”

“I have a right to know what the father of my son is up to!”

“You’ve had little to nothing to do with Brian for months, and now all of a sudden you want to portray caring friend and earth mother? You know what Lindsay, on behalf of Brian and Justin, FUCK YOU! And on that note, good night!”

I leave her standing at the base of the stairs with her mouth hanging open in shock. I listened tonight to all that Justin said about Michael and could see that every word he uttered applied to Lindsay as well. I swear if it wasn’t for Gus, I would do what Ben is doing and design a life away from her. If I’m mad at Brian for anything, it’s agreeing to have a baby with Lindsay, because it trapped both of us- meaning him and I- to her perfectly sane insanity. I love Gus, but right now, I’m not so sure how I feel about his biological mother.

I head into the nursery to place a kiss on Gus’ forehead before heading to the guest room. Sometimes, I regret not being pregnant right now. But as I replay the conversation with Brian in my mind, I understand the wisdom of his words and the conclusion I drew all on my own. I love my job, and I especially loved it today. The injustice perpetrated against Brian and Justin is the reason I got into law in the first place; to right wrongs, to fight for the underdogs within the scope of the law, to get justice for those the law tends to overlook or view as less than because of people like Gardner Vance. Having a baby right now wouldn’t have let me fight to recoup all that Brian and Justin lost, both at Vance’s hands… and at Michael’s.

Now that’s going to be a fight to the death, so to speak. Michael is not going to do what he ought, because he firmly believes that he’s right. And whereas I’m pissed on Justin’s behalf, I’m amazed at how bad I feel for Brian in all this. He’s spent over half his life trusting Michael, and therefore Deb. So I come to find out that the most honest person I know has in fact, been unknowingly living a lie. He’s not only going to lose the man he considered his best friend out of this, but the woman who took care of him when his own parents abused him or were just plain indifferent. He’s going to have a lot to deal with in the coming weeks and I’m not going to let Lindsay’s need for attention put more pressure on him. Nor am I going to let her manipulate the situation to suit her own fantasies regarding Brian and Justin’s relationship.

I still can’t believe he asked me to draw up Legal Domestic Partnership papers for Justin to sign. I guess when I think about it, it really shouldn’t be all that surprising. Brian and Justin have always marched to their own tune, in their own time. It’s when they didn’t that problems arose. But to be broke together the way they have been, Brian has to realize that Justin would never willingly leave him again. Aside from the money factor, there is the fact that Justin is willing to do whatever he can for the two of them to make it, even if he has to carry Brian, kicking and screaming, to where they need to be. I can honestly say that money doesn’t mean happiness, because if it did, then Lindsay and I wouldn’t be having the emotional issues we’re having right now. And yet, Brian and Justin are finding a way to be happy just being together, despite their financial woes. That has to mean something, right?

The knock on the door disturbs my thoughts as I take care of my ablutions before going to bed. “Yes?”

“Mel, are you coming to bed?”

“No, Lindsay. I’m going to bed right here. The last thing I want to do is end up having to get up and coming in here after the screaming match you’ll instigate. So I figured I save myself the trouble. Good night.”

“Mel…”

“Good night, Lindsay,” I say, effectively killing the argument.

After checking my briefcase and laptop bag to make sure both are locked, I lay down and close my eyes, vowing that Lindsay will not be one more obstacle. “For any of us,” I whisper.