Rich Prick – Tijan Page 0,54
next year?” Zeke asked.
Oh.
Maybe not?
I was driving to Aspen’s after school when my phone rang.
The ring came through my sound system, and I glanced down.
Marie calling.
I hadn’t been looking forward to this call, but I’d assumed it was coming. I’d been dodging the house all week while non-bio was there, and graduation was in three days.
I hit accept. “Hey, Mom.”
“I want your ass home now. Enough of this. I’m done, Blaise. Do you hear me? Done!”
“Did he tell you about the lawsuit coming against him?”
She was silent.
A full five seconds, and then a sniffle. “What are you talking about?”
I gritted my teeth. “Is he there right now?”
She was silent again.
“Am I on speaker?” I turned the wheel, heading north.
“No,” she said tightly.
“Then walk away from him. Pretend to hang up and go to the bathroom.”
It sucked that we had to lie like this. He’d helped raise me all my life. She said he’d always known about me, that I wasn’t his son, but he’d chosen to marry her anyway. He chose to adopt me. Then he used her money, invested it well, and hit it big with a product. He moved east, taking us with him, and after that, our lives blurred.
I grew up.
Sports. Parties. Privilege. Everything that life entailed.
Until he derailed it. Until he got caught. It wasn’t even that he cheated, because I knew he’d cheated long before she caught him. She knew too. I was the one who told her, but she hadn’t believed me. She hadn’t wanted to believe me, and I knew she felt guilty about that. It was the reason I got away with so much shit, but my mom wasn’t a bad mom. She was just caught up in her own guilt, her own shame, an ex that had crushed her spirit, and the potential for a new family, because Stephen was a good guy.
He was also a fucking patient guy, but then again, I’d not been around. I didn’t know how he’d been handling having Griffith at the house all week.
I heard her saying, “Okay. See you soon. Love you, honey.” A shuffling sound.
Static.
Her voice from a distance. “I have to pee.”
He said something.
I gripped the steering wheel, hearing his tone. I couldn’t make out the words, but he was griping about something.
“I know. I will,” my mom said. “Hold on.”
More static.
More shuffling sounds.
The sound of a door squeaking. A click, then a buzzing.
Her voice came back, hushed, but clearer. “What lawsuit?”
I told her about my conversation with Brian. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
She hadn’t interrupted, not once. She’d always been good like that. She’d listened through the whole spiel, and now there was silence, only sniffling coming from her end.
God. I couldn’t— I saw a gas station and swung in, parking at the far end and turning the engine off. I hit the lights and slumped back in my seat.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” It was worth repeating.
“Twelve women?” Her voice sounded so tiny, strangled.
“That’s what he said.” I pulled the keys out and held them in my hand.
She cursed softly into the phone. “You know if that many women are coming out at once, there are so many more who haven’t come forward. This is going to be—”
“No, Mom.” A knot was in my throat. I shoved it down. “We don’t live out there anymore. We don’t run in those circles. You are not to blame for his mistakes.”
“He asked about money. Jesus Christ! Money, Blaise. That’s why he’s here.”
Yeah…
“I’m going to—I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I hate him. I shouldn’t be saying this to you. You’re our son—” More sniffles. “I’m so sorry, Blaise. I kept you for myself all these years.”
I sucked in my breath.
Jesus. Now she said this?
“I lied—“
I couldn’t. One confrontation at a time.
“Mom!” I stopped playing with my keys. “I am not his son. I am your son. I’m not his. I know you see the good in him and always have, but you need to see him clearly. Once and for all, Mom. Please.”
I waited.
More sniffling, but she was listening.
I wanted to break him, bone by bone. I wanted to mop the floor with him, using his body to push all of his blood to the drain, and then I wanted to drag him outside and leave him there to rot. But I wanted to get through to my mom first.
It was pivotal.
“He married you for money, and he got lucky, hitting it big. But, Mom, Marie, he was never a good husband or