21. Debt, Dinner, and a Dickhead
DEBT, DINNER, AND A DICKHEAD
Dean
After locking up the admin office, I climbed into my truck and sat for a second, keys in hand.
The sun was going down behind the water tower, and the orange light came through the windshield.
I wondered if Felicity would want to sit on the porch and have a glass of wine while I had a beer to watch the sunset before dinner.
I’d been looking forward to dinner all day, the smell of it, Felicity’s laugh as Maverick tells a horrible knock-knock joke.
I’d just pulled onto the fire lane, which was a shortcut to the Foster farm when the display screen lit up with a call. Blackburn and Associates, law firm.
“Lockhart,” I answered.
“Dean, Raymond Blackburn.” His voice landed like a gavel. “Glad I caught you. Since finding that deal your Grandaddy made with Foster, I’ve been looking into my records for the ranch, and there’s a development.” The word development was doing a lot of heavy lifting.
That got my attention. “Development?”
The pause that followed from a man who charged four hundred dollars an hour told me everything before he even answered.
“A loan your granddaddy took out. The one with a private lender attached to the western acreage. It appears the note has been sold to a third party who might not be as… patient as the original holder.”
My grandfather’s debt was supposed to be ancient history, bundled into the overall mortgage and renegotiated the first year I took over as CFO, eight years ago.
But the boundaries on the west side of the ranch had been a sore spot for decades, ever since a failed irrigation project left some of the land basically useless except as scenery.
When I took over, I cleaned up as much as I could, but paperwork from the seventies and eighties was a mess, and sometimes old ghosts found their way into the present.
“Who’s the third party?” I asked.
“Well, now that’s the funny thing, it’s not disclosed.” Blackburn exhaled audibly. “If I had to guess, I’d say they’re an investment group interested in the upzoning potential along the highway. If they call the note, you’d be responsible for the full balance, plus interest, within sixty days.”
I let that sit. The number would be ugly. “Is there anything we can do if they do call it in. Legally.”
“Well, first things first, we need to know who we’re dealin’ with before we turn on the charm and start makin’ him feel pretty,” Blackburn explained. “I’ll let you know what I find.”
I hung up with the distinct feeling life was about to bend me over a barrel and skip the courtesy of buying me dinner first. My stomach had tied itself into a knot a Boy Scout would’ve been proud of.
Unknowns were the bane of my existence. My worst enemy. The emotional equivalent of a shopping cart with a fucked-up wheel, a low-battery smoke detector at 3 a.m., and a hundred paper cuts on my balls.
I wanted facts, no matter how bad things were. If I knew what I was dealing with, I could handle it. This wishy-washy, third-party, handshake deals, borrowing from Peter to pay Paul way Grandad had run the business, made me want to punch a wall, fix the hole, then punch it again on principle.
Thankfully, I was going to see two people who had quickly become two of my favorite people in the world.
I parked and got out of my truck, and headed up the porch steps just like I had last night and the night before that and the night before that.
Felicity had been crazy busy the past few weeks with the fall Founder’s Day fundraiser, so I didn’t see her during the day.
She was in town getting sponsors and selling tickets.
She was hosting a black-tie benefit to raise money for the town.
These dinners had become my favorite part of every day.
I expected certain things. I expected Maverick at full volume, a kitchen full of mismatched plates, possibly a burnt dish.
What I didn’t expect was the person who answered the door.
It was the man from the framed photograph in Maverick’s room.
The one Felicity never said much about, the missing piece of the story she rarely ever alluded to.
Tanner filled the doorframe, tall, sandy-haired, with the kind of easy tan that came from years outdoors rather than effort. But it was his eyes that stopped me cold, warm brown, slightly heavy-lidded, the exact eyes I’d been reading bedtime stories to for the past few weeks.
He wore the same kind of smile as in the photo, one that I’d say belonged to used car salesmen, but that would be an insult to car salesmen. “You must be Dean.” He shook my hand, the grip a fraction too tight. “I’m Tanner, the dad.”
His presence left something sharp at the back of my throat, like a bad cup of black coffee—familiar enough to recognize, unwelcome enough to notice.
Felicity appeared behind him, visibly tense in a way she never was around me, a little too bright, a little too light.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, her other hand nervously fiddling with her phone.
“Dean, hey. Sorry I didn’t message you, I sort of got distracted. ” She glanced up towards Tanner.
“It’s fine,” I lied, even though everything about the situation was suddenly not fine. As I stepped inside, the air felt thick enough to choke on.
Maverick, completely unburdened by the adult tension, cannonballed off the couch and tackled me around the knees.
“Dean, Dean, Dean! Dad says he’s gonna teach me how to rope a cow like a real cowboy.
” He looked up at me, eyes wide, missing the strain in his mother’s smile and the way Tanner hovered, just a little too interested.
“Did you know my Dad is the best at everything?” his four-year-old self said it unironically.
“I believe it,” I told him, ruffling his hair. “But you know who’s better than the best?”
Mav grinned up at me, his eyes brimming with affection. “Me?”
“You know it.” I held out my hand, and we did our handshake. Maverick jumped back onto the couch, and I suddenly felt like an outsider. “I’m gonna take off. You all have a nice dinner.”
“No!” Mav protested loudly, grabbing my arm. “You promised you’d come for dinner tonight.”
The kid was right. I had promised and there was no reason to go back on my word, because of the joke that had been donated to Maverick’s DNA.
I glanced up at Felicity, to try and silently communicate whether or not dinner was still on the table, no pun intended. There was a definite undercurrent of anxiety and stress radiating off her. I hoped it had to do with Tanner’s sudden appearance and nothing to do with me.
She gave me a tight smile and a nod.
Dinner started out like a slow-motion car accident. Tanner did most of the talking about how he was planning on settling in town for “for as long as it takes,” how he was excited to have his family back, how he’d landed a gig with an old friend flipping houses.
He peppered in jokes, made nostalgic references to Felicity’s “famous lasagna phase,” and told a story about the time they tried to build a treehouse and he nailed his hand to the ladder.
Felicity kept up, barely, with practiced smiles and derailing personal questions, giving him the absolute bare minimum.
If Tanner noticed my silence, he took it as a challenge. Although I had a feeling he interpreted most things that way. “So, Dean, you work up at the ranch, right? That’s a family thing?”
I nodded.
He raised an eyebrow, as if this was deeply impressive. “Must be nice to be handed a business without having to work for it. You ever wonder what you’d do if you weren’t born into it?”
It was obvious he was trying to bait me, but I was not biting. He could say whatever he wanted, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“Nope.” I shook my head.
Despite knowing Tanner’s intentions, I still found myself feeling defensive. I’d sacrificed a lot, including not continuing my post grad education, for the family. I always put them first.
He nodded like he understood, but then he pivoted, quickly.
“Felly says you’ve been a big help to her since she moved here.
You have a habit of playing white knight and riding in on your horse to save the day.
” He smiled at her with a kind of familiarity that felt invasive, like he thought he could just waltz into her life and pick up where he’d left off.
“Felicity doesn’t need saving,” I stated pointedly. “She runs circles around everyone.”
“Is that right?” Tanner glanced between us.
I was careful to keep my face neutral. But something about the way Tanner watched us—watched her—got under my skin. He was all surface charm, but there was a calculation behind his eyes you could spot if you knew what to look for.
Maverick excused himself and ran to the bathroom.
Tanner took that opportunity to lean closer to me, in a show of intimidation.
I’d seen bullies at school use the same tactic.
Never was a big fan of people who were so insecure they took out their lack of confidence on others, especially those they were supposed to care about, protect and love.
“You don’t say much, do you, big man?”
Felicity set her fork down, the utensil clattered on the plate. “Dean talks when he has something important to say. You should try it sometime.”
Tanner laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m here for Maverick, and for whatever it takes to get our family back on track. You have anything to say to that?”
I held his gaze. This guy was a cocky prick, and more than anything, I wanted to introduce my knuckles to his jaw, but I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.
Dawson’s words came back to me, which had been my own sentiment just moments before.
Felicity could handle her ex, and if she couldn’t, she’d let me know.
“Nope. It’s none of my business.”
Felicity’s voice was calm, but her hands shook as she picked up her glass. “I’ve already made it clear, our relationship is over, Tanner. The only reason I’m allowing you to breathe the same air as me is for Mav’s sake.”
Damn, Felicity really could handle things on her own.
Tanner didn’t let Felicity’s comment dissuade him. He stared at her and grinned. “I know I have a lot of making up to do.”
I wanted to grab the guy by his collar and kick his ass out the door.
Instead, I sat calmly and waited for Maverick to return.
When he did, the conversation shifted to safe territory—dinosaurs, horses, Star Wars, and Marvel Superheroes.
Tanner tried to insert himself, sharing stories about the things he and Felicity used to do, the life they used to have.
Maverick took it all in, but he only laughed at my jokes.
I tried not to notice, but Felicity’s relief was palpable every time I said something to steer the subject away from the past.
After dinner, while Tanner was tucking Maverick into bed, Felicity hovered at the sink, rinsing off plates. I leaned against the fridge, arms folded, and bit my tongue, keeping my opinions to myself.
The sounds from the kid’s room were loud enough to follow word-for-word, Tanner’s exaggerated cowboy accent, Maverick’s delighted giggles, the rhythmic creak of bedsprings as the world’s most enthusiastic four-year-old bounced and bellowed, “Giddyup, Dad!”
I forced myself to focus on Felicity’s silhouette instead, the way she braced herself in the kitchen’s ambient glow, the way her shoulders seemed to fight for an upright position.
“Sorry about all of this,” she said at last, her voice pitched low enough not to reach the living room.
“I didn’t know he was coming. By the time I opened the door, Mav was already halfway through his monologue about how his dad was finally here and also probably moving into town for forever.
” She shook her head, lips pressed thin.
“He’s always been like this, you know? Just…
shows up. Like a surprise party you didn’t ask for. And somehow Mav loves him for it.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
She didn’t have to say more, I’d seen the cycle in action enough times to recognize the brand of disappointment a man like Tanner could carve out of a person.
Still, she kept talking, her hand worrying at a water spot on a glass as if she could rub history away with enough effort.
“He’s not a bad person, just…unreliable.
He wants to be better. Says he’s getting his act together, for Mav’s sake.
But I can’t…not after everything. Not again.
I don’t believe anything that comes out of his mouth, but I just want to do what’s best for Mav. ”
I nodded, but something cold and heavy pressed on my chest. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
She stepped closer, voice urgent now. “But I want to give you one, because you matter.” She looked at me, almost pleading. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just…Tanner. He can’t help himself. It’s genetic.”
I shrugged. “I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you.”
That got her. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Me? You shouldn’t be.”
But I was. I wanted to tell her how much, but that wasn’t the Lockhart way: bottle it up, bury it down, let it fossilize.
Tanner’s footsteps thudded down the hallway.
He entered the kitchen with a swagger that was clearly put on.
His attention flicked between the two of us.
“Glad you’re making friends around here, Felly.
” He looked at me then, really looked. I recognized the calculation behind his smile, he was measuring me for something, maybe a threat assessment, maybe just the fun of it.
“Family business, huh. No offense, but you don’t seem the type to—” he made a vague circle through the air, “—do the whole family thing.”
“And you’re the expert on the whole family thing, are you?” I countered.
A flicker of anger flashed in his eyes, but he tried desperately to conceal it.
“Mom!” Mav called out from his room. “Mom, can I have water?”
I could feel Felicity’s stare bouncing between the two of us. It was clear she didn’t want to leave the two of us in the kitchen alone.
“Mom!”
“Coming!” she shouted back, as she grabbed a cup, filled it with water, and headed down the hall.
As soon as we were alone, Tanner smirked at me. “So how long’ve you and Felicity been, uh—” He made a gesture that could have meant dating, or sleeping together, or maybe just breathing the same air.
I didn’t answer. It was none of his fucking business.
“Just curious.” Tanner lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Mav seems to like you. I’d hate to think the kid was getting mixed signals.”
That was when something in me finally cracked, just a hairline fracture, but enough. “Now you’re worried about your son? After not seeing him for what was it…six months?” I asked calmly.
He smiled, but his eyes were sharp. “You know you're temporary, right? I’m his family.”
His words hit my deepest insecurity. I always believed blood and responsibility defined family.
What claim did I actually have on Felicity or Maverick?
None.