31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Anson
T yler came into my office at home, and looked like death warmed over.
"Bourbon?" I asked.
He shook his head. "I…my father wanted me to get your permission."
"For?"
He sighed. "To ask Alma to marry me."
"Sit down, Tyler." I gestured to the couch.
He simply collapsed onto it. I felt bad for the kid. He was twenty-six, a baby, really, and was being bartered away for his daddy's political ambitions.
I poured us both some bourbon. I handed him a glass and sat across from him.
"Bud, I gotta ask you. Do you love Alma?"
He looked up at me like I'd asked him to solve a Millenium problem. "I…sure."
Yeah, that's convincing!
"I hear you're in love with someone you work with." I decided to rip the bandage off.
He now gaped at me.
"Everyone knows everythin'," I informed him. "You know Alma knows, right?"
He shook his head, looking like he was going to throw up. He drank down his whole glass of bourbon like it was a shot. I winced.
Tyler set the glass down. "Everyone knows?"
"Yeah, bud."
"Fuck. Then, why does Alma want to marry me? She went to my dad and made this whole… fuck . Why, when she knows I love someone else?" The poor boy looked baffled.
"'Cause you're probably the future governor's son, and she fancies herself Georgia's first lady someday."
He went pale. "I'm not ever running for office, Anson. Like never ."
"Yeah, well, Alma has spent her life getting what she wants how she wants it, so she's pretty sure that once she marries you, you'll perform to the tune she sets."
Harsh! Very harsh. But the boy needed a kick on his backside.
"She's already got me dancing," he muttered, and then looked apologetically at me. "I don't mean no offense."
"She's my sister. I know her. Now, why do you have to do what your daddy asks?"
"Because, he won't give me my trust fund. It's locked up and—"
"You need money?" I asked.
He looked confused. "Doesn't everyone?"
I sighed. "Yeah, bud, everyone does. But how much money do you need to live a good life with your girl? Not Alma, the girl you love."
"Ah…I don't know. I just…I mean, I only have a salary, Anson. I'm an associate lawyer in my daddy's firm."
"I'm guessing you pull like, what, two hundred grand a year?"
He nodded. "About that."
"So, let's put this in perspective, yeah? With that kind of annual income, you're in the top five percent of earners in the United States. You think you can't have a good life with that kind of money?"
"My father will fire me."
"You a good lawyer, Tyler?"
"Yeah."
"I'll fuckin' hire you. I need legal counsel for Larue Homes. We've been using a law firm, but I want someone in-house. I'll pay you what you get paid now. You can work from Atlanta or Timbuktu as long as you have decent Wi-Fi and a laptop, and know Georgia state law."
"You'll hire me?" Tyler struggled to understand what I was trying to tell him. "Why?"
"Goddamn it, Tyler. You don't love Alma. You love this other girl. Marry her. Tell your father to screw his money."
Tyler nodded as if, finally , what I was saying got through to him.
"I'm not into corporate law," he said, "so I can't work for Larue Homes, but I get your point. I can find another job. I can leave Atlanta. I know people. But my trust fund is my family legacy, it's my inheritance, you know. I can't just leave it, can I?"
"Do you need it?"
"I guess. Money is nice, right?"
"Is marrying a woman you don't love for the rest of your life worth that nice ?"
He leaned back on the sofa and took a deep breath. "I'm afraid of my father."
"What's the worst he can do?"
"Have me killed?" Tyler said, and I wasn't sure if he was kidding because the boy truly looked scared.
"He's not goin' to do that, since he wants to be governor."
He chuckled. "Yeah, that's gonna save my life. Anson, why don't you want me to marry Alma? Do you think I'm not good enough—"
"It's 'cause you don't love her, dumbass," I said in exasperation. "This isn't about your suitability. I don't care if you get married and have a sad fucking marriage. That's on you and her. I'm not my sister's keeper. I'm tryin' to help you, Tyler. I lost the woman I loved ‘cause I was too busy being a Larue. I'm telling you, it ain't worth it."
Tyler nodded thoughtfully. After a couple of minutes, he stood up. He pulled out a jewelry box from his pocket and set it on the coffee table. "Nicole gave that to me. Said it had sentimental value 'cause it was your grandma's or something, and she thought it would be somethin' nice to add to the engagement announcement."
I picked up the familiar box, my heart hammering. I opened it and swallowed. This was Grandma Ethel's engagement ring—the one Nova was supposed to have stolen, along with all those other pieces worth thirty thousand dollars. I knew this was one of them because I filed an insurance claim for it.
"Anson?"
I looked at Tyler, feeling like I'd walked into a nightmare. The pieces were falling into places in my head, and the picture that came together wasn't a good one.
"Yeah, bud?"
"I'm going to tell Alma that I can't marry her. Can you…ah…come with me?"
"Sure," I smiled. "Don't worry; it won't be too unpleasant."
Tyler laughed. "Come on, Anson, it's going to be a clusterfuck."
"Yeah, it is," I agree, putting the ring box in the pockets of my pants.
Tyler was right. It was a clusterfuck.
Alma cried.
Mama yelled at Tyler, and then at me.
After twenty minutes of that, I ushered Tyler out of the mansion, and told him to go home and live his life the way he wanted. I assured him that I'd be happy to hire him if he couldn't find another job. He didn't seem worried about that. In fact, this was the first time I'd seen the boy look care-fucking-free and happy. He thanked me and wished me luck.
"Anson, you were supposed to convince him to propose," Mama wailed.
Carole peeked into the living room, and I shook my head. No, we were not ready for dinner. And this rate we'd all probably skip it for the night.
"He's not in love with Alma, and God knows she's not in love with him," I replied, sitting down on one of my mother's horribly ornate Louis the Something chairs. They were fucking uncomfortable, and made the living room look like something out of the Scarlet Pimpernel. Christ! I hated this house. I hated how it was decorated. I hated how pretentious it was.
I pulled out the ring box that Tyler had given to me, and set it on a table in front of me.
"Well, at least he left that," Mama sighed. She sat next to Alma and put her arm around her. "Baby, it's alright."
"Mama, I'm twenty-six years old, and everyone around me is gettin' married. I don't want to be thirty by the time I marry. When will I have…." She stared at the jewelry box, and then at me. "You found it?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Honey, I found it." Mama wiped Alma's tears. "It was in your room in the safe. I was so happy to see it. I thought we'd lost it, and I gave it to Tyler. I thought it would make a…." She looked from Alma's stunned face to mine.
"Alma, if I go into your safe, will I find the rest of Grandma Ethel's jewelry?" I asked softly.
My mother finally clued in and gasped. She put a hand to her mouth, and looked at Alma like she'd just grown horns. "This ring…this was one of those…oh my God, Alma, why do you have this?"
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I could see my mother genuinely didn't understand how Alma had jewelry that belonged to Grandma Ethel, jewelry that was supposed to have been stolen by Nova, and fenced into oblivion.
Alma swallowed. "I…I…Bailey…. God!"
"Alma, for God's sake, explain yourself," Mama cried out.
"She, Bailey, and Pete framed Nova seven years ago, Mama, just like Bailey tried to do again yesterday," I explained.
Mama stared at Alma in confusion. "Baby, is that…did you?"
Alma pursed her lips. "It wasn't my idea."
"Christ, Alma, you didn't just say somethin' that stupid." Mama stood up, wanting to get some distance from her darling daughter, it appeared. "What the hell did you and Bailey concoct?"
Alma dropped her face into her hands.
"Stop that and talk." Mama folded her arms and glared at Alma.
My sister faced us, shaking her head. "Bailey wanted to teach Nova a lesson for stealing you. We all know how you feel about stealin' or lyin' and all that stuff."
All that morality stuff? Yeah, and for all that higher livin' business, I, apparently am shit at actually reading people. Every fuckin' con artist in the world could have a field day with me.
"Who recruited Pete into your scheme?" I asked.
"Bailey."
"Was she fuckin' him then?" I asked.
"Anson, language."
"Mama, we're so past that," I growled. "So fuckin' past that. So, Alma was Bailey fuckin' him then."
She nodded.
Mama gasped.
"She still fuckin' him?"
Alma shrugged. "I don't know. She doesn't tell me everything since y'all got engaged."
Mama looked like her puppy just died. "Why on earth would Bailey sleep with Pete? He's…fat and…good Lord, that man has the loosest zipper in the county."
I reminded myself to go get tested ASAP. Even though Bailey and I always had sex with a condom because I wanted to be doubly protected, her on birth control and me wrapped up—I had no clue if something had gotten into my bloodstream via Pete.
Christ! How was this shitshow my life?
"You'll have to ask Bailey," Alma murmured.
"You'll probably have to go to the nearest Federal penitentiary to do that," I offered.
"What?" Mama's eyes flashed fear. "What did she do?"
"I just told you she embezzled from Larue Homes, one hundred thousand dollars, and pinned it on Nova."
"Did you know about this, Alma?" Mama demanded.
Alma looked guilty as hell. "Hey, it was Anson who said he wanted to trap Nova. Bailey said she'd make sure you had proof to put her away this time. Maybe…maybe that's why she took the money, to make it look real."
"She started taking the money long before Nova came into the picture, Alma," I drawled.
"What's goin' on with everyone?" Mama shook her head as if in pain. "Bailey is sleepin' with Pete? And Alma, you stole your grandma's jewelry?"
"I didn't steal it, Mama. I just…kept it, and we made it look like Nova stole it. That's all."
"What about the security feed of her going into the library?" I asked.
Alma shrugged. "She got lost, and Pete thought we could use it."
"My, my, my, you, Bailey, and Pete have been thick as thieves, haven't you?" Mama was furious now. "Alma Marie Larue, I'm angry and disappointed with you."
"Oh, come on, Mama, you were happy to see Nova go as well."
"Of course, I was, but I wouldn't have done what you did. This is utterly despicable."
"Whose idea was it to put her in Raymond Carre's cell?" I asked, even though I could guess, and it hurt my soul.
Mama shook her head. "Raymond Carre? The Raymond Carre?"
Alma looked like she wanted to disappear right about now.
I told Mama about what Pete did with Nova, and now she was even more appalled. Mama was a racist and classist, certainly, but this was beyond the pale, even for her mercenary sensibilities.
"Bailey. She thought that if Nova was raped, then you wouldn't want her."
"And you went along with it?" Mama asked, incensed. "You wanted a young girl to be sexually assaulted, Alma?"
Alma began to cry. "It wasn't like that. I…."
"You're a monster," Mama declared. "I just can't believe this. Any of this."
"He's getting back with her again," Alma spluttered. "How do you feel about that?"
"Like it's none of my business right now, Alma," Mama remarked. "I…this is unbelievable."
I was losing my family, I realized. The people closest to me were now lost to me. In fact, I'd never had them.
I pocketed the jewelry box and rose, feeling like I was a hundred years old and very weary. "Alma, I want you out of the mansion by end of the week. No discussion. Mama, I'm selling this fucking place."
"What? No."
"Yeah," I stated with finality. "I hate this house, this whole mansion and estate nonsense."
Two years ago, Rhodes Hotel was looking to acquire old plantation homes and had approached us. Maybe there were still interested.
Mama's chest heaved, and I geared up for a fight. "Fine. But I'm taking the furniture with me to Atlanta."
We had a rather lovely and large home in Atlanta's Tuxedo Park—it was opulent and expensive, and Mama could live there in her bubble of money.
"Mama—" Alma began but was immediately silenced by my mother's loud hush.
"No, Alma, you can't come live with me. I am so… shocked . I can't believe who you've become."
In all honesty, Mama raised Alma to be just like her, and my sister took it a few rounds around the yard and made it worse.
Mama then walked away to her wing of the house.
"Anson—" Alma began.
"Nope." I left my sister crying and didn't feel bad about it.