7. Bethany
Chapter 7
Bethany
T he sound of the doorbell interrupts our peaceful morning, causing me to divert my attention from Jodi, who’s busy cooking breakfast for everyone. It’s late August, almost two months since the accident. Jodi is here because we sent Alicia on a date with Dillon so those two could make me a niece or nephew.
Things between them are progressing fast. Her seriousness about having a baby made the prospect of her using a stranger’s sperm unacceptable to Dillon. Doing that meant she wouldn’t have help from the baby daddy, something he found disturbing, so he offered his services with a promise to not let her do it alone, even if things between them never took off. He vowed to be a father to their child, a good one. It’s sweet and I can’t fault her for wanting to give her child more.
But I also see the flip side to why a donor could be beneficial. Sometimes I wish my boys’ father was a donor with zero influence on our lives. Things would be so much easier.
When the doorbell rings again, I’m about to tell one of the boys to answer it, but Finn darts past, bee lining it to the door. A few seconds pass. I hear chatting, so I assume it’s one of his friends.
“Mom! There’s a man here to see you!” Finn calls out from the entrance. “And he has a shiny new car he says is yours!”
“You’re getting a new car?” Jodi flips the hash browns and wipes her hands on the towel over her shoulder. “How did I not know this?”
“Because I’m not. Not yet at least. The insurance hasn’t settled with the other company. It’s in dispute. And since I can’t drive, I’m in no hurry.” I turn my wheelchair around and push my way to the front door. “Plus, I don’t think they deliver new cars.”
Stepping up behind me, she grips the handles, taking over and pushes me down the hall just as Felix and Nicky skirt past us. As they walk outside, I hear all three boys gasp.
“Sweet ride, Miss Rogan.”
“We should take it for a spin, Mom.” Felix whistles as he steps back inside. “Too bad I don’t got my permit yet.”
His grammar is a mess, making me cringe inwardly, but I paste on a smile for the man on the front stoop.
Standing there, he holds an electronic pad and keys that jingle from his finger.
“Can I help you?”
“Bethany Rogan?” He flashes me one of those salesman grins.
“That’s me.”
“Before signing off on the delivery, I need you to come outside and carefully inspect the vehicle.” With a slight frown, he scratches his chin. “Do you need help getting outside? I didn’t realize you were…”
“There’s a ramp in the garage. But I’m afraid this is a mistake. I didn’t order a car.” I lean forward so I can see what has the boys so riled up. “And I sure as hell didn’t order that. Jesus. Does it have a red interior?”
A quick glance is all it takes to realize that the SUV far exceeds the value of my totaled one. I’m not even sure I can afford the insurance on it, let alone the payments. This has to be a mistake.
Looking a little unsettled, the poor salesman nods and quickly glances over his shoulder. “You are Miss Bethany Faye Rogan. Born August 17 th ?—”
I cut him off. “Yes. But that’s not mine. Like I said, I didn’t order a new car. And as you can see, at the moment, I have no need for one. So there has to be some mistake.”
With a determined look on his face, he vigorously shakes his head in disagreement. “No, mistake Miss Rogan. We don’t make one-hundred and fifty grand mistakes.”
Jodi coughs behind me. “A hundred and fifty grand? Who is dumb enough to spend that on a car? Does it tell you that on your pad there? Because I can promise you my friend here isn’t. She nearly passed out when she bought her year-old Acura at one fifth that price, six months ago.”
“Oh.” His smug salesperson smile returns. “Well, this is top of the line and a much better vehicle than I imagine that one was. I think you’ll be very happy with it.”
My intuitive son, Felix, has snuck up behind the man while he tries to convince us to accept the damn vehicle. “Who’s Theodore Stewart the third?” Looking up at me, he winks with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “He’s the person who purchased it according to the invoice.”
The man’s frustration is evident as he grunts and huffs. “That wasn’t supposed to be disclosed.” Glancing over his shoulder, he addresses my son. “That information is confidential, and it was wrong of you to pry.”
“Don’t you dare talk to my son like that.” I pat Jodi’s hand, which is resting on my shoulder. “Wheel me back. Boys come inside. Mr. Whatever your name is, you can take that with you when you leave. I’m not signing shit. And tell Mr. Stewart he shouldn’t buy vehicles for people he doesn’t know. Have a wonderful day.”
As soon as the boys are back inside, I grab the door and close it before the man can say more. He stands there dumbfounded for a few seconds before stepping off my stoop and pulling out his phone. I imagine he’s calling this Mr. Stewart, sharing the news with him.
Jodi pushes me back into the kitchen. “Come on. Breakfast is done. Let’s eat.”
“Who is Mr. Theo the third?” Finn asks as he drops into his chair at the table. “You got a side piece we don’t know about?”
“Dude, yuck.” Felix makes a face like he’s gonna throw up. “He’s the guy who hit Mom.”
I’m about to pick up my napkin, but stop at the revelation. “How do you know that?” I didn’t even know that.
With a nonchalant expression, Felix shrugs and lowers his eyes. “I might have taken the liberty of looking up your accident report. Then conducted a little more research. Mr. Theodore Stewart, III, is a twenty-year-old heir to a global manufacturing company. He’s basically living the cushy life off his family’s money. In the past three years, he’s had ten car accidents, three of which were serious. Yet he’s still driving and I’m guessing we just learned why.”
My son is too smart for his own good. I should be mad at him, but I’m not. It’s possible he’s uncovered information my insurer is unaware of.
“What have I told you about hacking?” When Jodi passes me a plate, I take it and set it in front of me. “And don’t tell me this was different. It’s not. No matter your reasoning, if you get caught, you could go to jail. Do you want to go to jail like your father?”
He shakes his head and groans.
“Promise me you won’t do it again.” I know it’s a promise he can’t keep, but dammit, I don’t want the FBI or some higher ABC federal branch knocking on my door, ready to haul him off.
“I promise.” It’s a flat out lie, but one I’m not about to address right now. “But can I say something before you ground me?”
Unsure if I really want to hear this, I nod, acknowledging the fairness in letting him explain his reasoning.
“Don’t you think someone needs to stop him? He could have killed you. And I’m sorry, but just because his pockets go deep, it doesn’t mean he should get to do whatever he wants.” Felix looks up, sadness marring his face. “Next time, he might kill someone. Do you want that blood on your hands? I don’t want it on mine. That’s why I did what I did.”
My eyes scan the table, taking my time to look at all three boys. What the fuck has he done? The other two boys are shoveling food in so fast it’s like a race to the finish. A tell, that they know what he did, and it’s not as simple as a hacking job.
Jodi squints and furrows her brow when our eyes meet. It’s her unmistakable sign that her mind is hard at work. This isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with shit like this, and I know she has my back.
“And what is that, exactly?” With a sigh, I fold my arms and lean back in my chair, feeling the tension in my muscles. “And don’t lie to me.”
Before he can answer, the doorbell rings again. Jodi jumps up to answer it while I stare at all three boys, watching, waiting for one to cave.
My chance is gone when Jodi returns with three men trailing her—two wearing very expensive suits. She mouths, “Holy shit.”
“Boys, take your plates into the other room.” There’s no way I want them around while the adults talk. “Now.”
Being smart enough not to argue, the three teenagers grab their plates and make a swift exit, knowing they narrowly escaped trouble. Once they’re gone and out of earshot, it’s time to find out who these men are. I have an idea, but I’m too worked up to make assumptions.
“And what brings you to my humble abode, gentlemen? I’m assuming it has something to do with the unwanted SUV parked out front. The one I rejected.” Having lost my appetite, I push my plate aside.
The man, with a mane of thick, black hair that seems to weigh him down, extends his hand. “I’m Oscar Polkowski. And these are my clients, Teddy and Theo Stewart. We’d like a moment of your time to discuss how we can resolve this issue without bringing the press into it. I’m sure you understand why that could be detrimental to the Stewarts. Once you review our terms and discover the financial benefits awaiting you and your sons, we’re confident you’ll see things more clearly. May we take a seat?”
Press? Oh, Christ on a cracker, what has Felix done?
I motion to the empty chairs the boys vacated. “I trust you’re fine with my friend Jodi, joining us as a witness. Seems only fair, since I’m a little outnumbered here.”
The men sit. It’s clear to me that Teddy and Theo are father and son. I’m not so sure why they’re here, but Mr. Polkowski wastes no time getting right into the nitty gritty of the situation as soon as everyone is seated.
“That’s fine. I’m not sure exactly how you found out about Theo’s unsavory record, but let’s not worry so much about that. Let’s talk about how we can resolve this quietly.”
Sounds like Felix disclosed his discoveries to the Stewarts and then threatened to expose the truth. His heart is in the right place, but the way he went about it is all wrong. I’ll be addressing that with him later.
“Message has been received, and we see the error of our ways. So, let’s cut to the chase.” With a mischievous smile resembling that of a deceitful lawyer, he slides a sealed manila envelope in my direction. “Go ahead, open it. I think once you’ve looked it over, you’ll reconsider.”
“Will I?” I don’t bother opening it. Deep down I know if I do, I’ll be swayed to consider what’s inside, and I want no part of that. Better to remain ignorant in this case. “Tell me, Mr. Polkowski.” I pat the envelope to draw his eyes to it, before resting my arms on top of it. “Is this how you’ve gotten the others to back off and look the other way?”
He only smiles and keeps glancing down at the envelope, refusing to admit anything.
Instead of trying to make him fold, I bypass him completely and go directly to the man responsible for this mess. I never saw him that day, only his flashy car as he honked his horn and flipped my car because of his aggressive driving. His outfit is a mix of luxury and boldness—an overpriced polo with vibrant Bermuda shorts, complemented by white boat shoes and trendy Ray-Ban sunglasses. The look of a rich little brat who has never been made to face the consequences of his actions. I see young men like him every day in my classroom. The ones who expect that easy A because their daddy donates the big bucks to the school, and they feel entitled.
Buckle up, kid. You’re about to meet the one person who can’t be intimidated by all that. I see so many students just like you. They have to learn that actions have consequences, and so do you.
“Tell me something Theo, what did you learn from what happened that day?”
He looks bored. Slouching in his seat, arms crossed, a frown on his face as he cocks one eyebrow. “What did I learn?”
I nod.
“My son?—”
The professor in me can’t be held back. To prevent him from interrupting, I put up my hand. “I’ll address you in a second, Mr. Stewart. Right now, I’d like to talk to your son. He’s an adult. Twenty, isn’t it? I’m sure you’re aware I’m a professor at a university. I’ve been dealing with young men like Theo since grad school. Let him talk.”
The younger man lifts his shoulders in a dismissive shrug. “I don’t know. I guess to slow down. To not pass someone before they’ve switched lanes.”
“You guess?”
“Look, lady. I didn’t mean to hit you, but fucking hell, you were moving like a snail, and I was in a hurry. Maybe you need to learn to drive faster.” He moves to stand like he’s done with this whole horse and pony show.
“Sit down.” His father’s voice is loud with a distinct edge of power.
Theo drops back into his seat. Not because he wants to, but because he must hear something in his father’s tone that warns him he’s on thin ice.
They exchange a look, and I decide it’s time to push back. “How many car accidents have you fixed for your son, Mr. Stewart?”
The lawyer pipes in. “Don’t answer that, Teddy.”
“Too many.” Mr. Stewart leans forward, his eyes narrowing in concentration. “Maybe it’s time to stop that.”
“Maybe it is,” I agree, because this kid will never learn if daddy doesn’t let him. “I get where you’re coming from. I have two boys who I’ve stepped in many times to protect. But eventually we have to let our kids?—”
“Look, cunt.” Standing, Theo pounds the table with his fist, glaring at both me and his father. “You need to stop talking and open the damn envelope. We didn’t come here, so you could psychoanalyze us. Mind your own goddamn business.”
Before I can do or say anything, Teddy snatches the envelope from under my arms. He rips it open and extracts the documents from within. And right before his son’s eyes, he tears them up while explaining his actions to the spoiled little brat. “I’m done. I told you the last time that if it happened again, you’d have to clean it up yourself. But I let your mother persuade me it wasn’t your fault, yet again. That it was just an accident, and you’d learned your lesson. Clearly, she was mistaken. No more. Hire your own damn lawyer. Use the money I gave you to start that bad idea of a company. Until you can prove that you’ve got your act together, I’m cutting you off.”
“You can’t do that.” Theo, with an air of entitlement, angrily stomps his foot, displaying his spoiled attitude. “I’ll tell, Mom.”
I want to laugh but hold back. One glance at my friend tells me I’m not alone.
“Go right ahead and do that. And while you’re at it, please remind her to sign the divorce papers before they become null and void, and she ends up with nothing more than the minimum.”
Theo’s eyes narrow as he shoots a piercing glare at his father. “You’re gonna regret this. Mark my words.”
We watch the bratty kid storm out of the house, not even bothering to close the door on his way out.
I don’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry.” Teddy hangs his head with regret. “Can we start over?”
“Sure.”
“I know this won’t make up for your troubles, but I’d like you to have the SUV.” As I start to raise an objection, he lifts his hand to indicate I should hear him out. “And allow me to pay for your medical bills. Mr. Polkowski can draw up a new agreement and have you sign it later. Will you let me do that? Or can we at least discuss it?”
To say I’m shocked is an understatement. I’m not sure I trust him. If I agree, what’s to say Theo won’t do this again? That they won’t use it against me and claim we settled outside of court? I don’t want that. The kid needs to understand that throwing money at people doesn’t always solve your problems. There are some problems in life money can’t solve.
“I’ll hear you out, but I make no promises.”
After smiling, Mr. Stewart reclaims his seat. “That’s good enough for me.”