Chapter 5 - The Price of a Favorite Son
Dad did not come to Canada immediately.
For three weeks, I heard nothing.
I began to wonder whether his threat had been nothing more than family theater—the sort of declaration made loudly in a crowded room and forgotten once everyone went home.
Then, on a Thursday morning in February, Mom sent me a message.
Your father and Jake are flying to Vancouver tomorrow. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.
I stared at the screen while standing in the NorthStar elevator.
They did not ask whether they could visit.
They did not ask where they should stay.
They simply announced they were coming, as if my new life were another room in their house.
I called Mom.
“What does that message mean?”
“They bought tickets.”
“Why?”
“To talk to you.”
“We already talked.”
“Not face-to-face.”
“I didn’t invite them.”
“They’re family. They shouldn’t need invitations.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where are they staying?”
“With you, I assume.”
“No.”
Mom gasped.
“You have a two-bedroom house.”
“I have a home, not a family hotel.”
“Your father has a bad knee.”
“Then he should book a comfortable hotel.”
“You know they can’t afford that.”
“They could not afford plane tickets either.”
There was a pause.
Mom lowered her voice.
“Uncle Ray paid for the flights.”
Of course he had.
The same relatives who supported excluding me from the property were now financing an intervention to recover my money.
“They are not staying here,” I said.
“Jenna, please.”
“No.”
“They’re already upset.”
“They will survive.”
I ended the call.
At work, I tried to focus on a customs report but kept imagining Dad and Jake appearing at my front door.
Claire noticed.
“You have read the same paragraph for ten minutes,” she said.
“My father and brother are flying here tomorrow.”
“Did you invite them?”
“No.”
“Do they know where you live?”
My stomach dropped.
I had never given my address to them.
But Mom had received a Christmas card from me months earlier, before I fully understood the importance of controlling information.
The return address was printed on the envelope.
“Yes,” I said. “They probably do.”
Claire’s expression changed.
“Do you feel unsafe?”
“Not physically.”
“That wasn’t a complete answer.”
I appreciated her directness.
“They won’t hurt me,” I said. “But they’ll pressure me. They’ll show up angry and act like I owe them.”
“Then decide your boundaries before they arrive.”
“I already told them they can’t stay.”
“What happens when they come to your house anyway?”
I had no answer.
Claire folded her arms.
“You spent your life reacting to what they demanded. This time, make a plan.”
I called Daniel during lunch.
He listened without interrupting.
“Do you want me there?” he asked.
“I don’t want to make this your problem.”
“That is not what I asked.”
His question echoed the one he had asked weeks earlier.
“What if they become rude?”
“I’ve met rude people.”
“What if my father insults you?”
“I’ll live.”
I smiled despite the tension.
“Yes,” I said. “I’d like you there.”
Dad and Jake arrived shortly after noon the next day.
They did not call from the airport.
They appeared on my porch carrying luggage.
Dad wore the same brown jacket he had owned for years. Jake wore a baseball cap, jeans, and an expression of open irritation.
I opened the door but did not invite them inside.
Dad looked past me.
“This the place?”
“Yes.”
“Smaller than I expected.”
It was his first sentence.
Jake stepped closer.
“We’ve been traveling since before sunrise. You going to make us stand outside?”
“I told Mom you needed a hotel.”
Dad’s face darkened.
“You’d put your own father in a hotel?”
“You came without asking.”
“We came to fix this family mess.”
“The family mess is in Georgia.”
Jake dropped his duffel bag on the porch.
“I’m not paying four hundred dollars for a hotel when you’ve got an empty bedroom.”
“The room isn’t empty. It’s my office.”
“Move the desk.”
“No.”
Dad stared at me as if he did not recognize the woman standing before him.
“You’ve gotten disrespectful.”
“I’ve gotten clear.”
A car pulled to the curb.
Daniel stepped out carrying a paper bag and two coffees.
When he approached, Jake looked him over.
“Who’s this?”
“This is Daniel.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed.
“Your boyfriend?”
Daniel extended his hand.
“Daniel Mercer. Nice to meet you.”
Dad did not take it.
“We’re having a private family discussion.”
“I asked him to be here,” I said.
Jake laughed.
“So you need backup to talk to your own family?”
“No. I need a witness.”
That silenced him briefly.
I stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind me.
“We can talk at the coffee shop two blocks away.”
Dad picked up his suitcase.
“We’re talking inside.”
“No, we aren’t.”
His voice rose.
“You think buying one little house makes you better than us?”
A neighbor across the street glanced over while collecting mail.
I lowered my voice.
“I don’t want a scene.”
“Then open the door.”
Daniel remained beside me, calm but alert.
I looked directly at Dad.
“You can speak respectfully in public, or you can leave.”
For several seconds, I thought he might explode.
Instead, he grabbed his suitcase handle.
“Fine.”
We walked to the coffee shop in silence.
Dad and Jake sat across from Daniel and me at a small table near the window.
Jake refused to order anything.
Dad opened a folder and placed several documents on the table.
“We’re here because the family properties are in trouble,” he began.
“Jake’s properties,” I corrected.
Dad ignored me.
“The plumbing repairs cost more than expected. Property taxes are due. Jake’s wedding is in June, and he needs money for a down payment on another house.”
I looked at Jake.
“Why do you need another house?”
“Amber doesn’t like the townhome.”
“Then sell one.”
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
His jaw tightened.
Dad answered.
“There’s a legal restriction from the settlement. The properties cannot be sold for three years without state approval.”
This was the first time I had heard about the restriction.
It explained why Jake had not already turned the homes into cash.
“So rent them,” I said.
“We tried,” Dad replied. “The repairs got in the way.”
“What exactly do you want from me?”
Dad slid a page across the table.
It was a list of expenses totaling thirty-seven thousand dollars.
“We’re asking you to contribute thirty thousand.”
“Contribute?”
“You’re doing well.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Dad leaned toward me.
“Your mother is working extra shifts. My credit cards are nearly full. Jake can’t manage all this alone.”
Jake crossed his arms.
“I didn’t ask for three houses with problems.”
I stared at him.
“You accepted them.”
“What was I supposed to do, give one to you?”
“Yes.”
His face twisted.
“You signed it away.”
“And now I’m refusing to pay for it.”
Dad tapped the table.
“We did not raise you to turn your back on family.”
“Stop saying that.”
Several customers looked in our direction.
I lowered my voice.
“You cannot use the word family only when you want my money.”
Dad’s eyes hardened.
“You had every advantage.”
“What advantage?”
“We sent you to college.”
“You gave me two thousand dollars one time.”
“We sacrificed.”
“So did I.”
Jake leaned forward.
“You always act like everything you have came from nowhere.”
“No. It came from work.”
“You think I don’t work?”
“I think you were given two houses and still expect me to finance your third.”
His face reddened.
“Amber deserves a nice place.”
“So does Mom. Yet you put her in the one-bedroom while you occupy the largest property.”
“That was Dad’s decision.”
“And you accepted that too.”
Dad slapped his hand against the table.
“Enough.”
The coffee shop became quiet.
Daniel spoke for the first time.
“Mr. Mitchell, Jenna has answered your request.”
Dad turned toward him.
“This does not concern you.”
“It concerns her. That is enough for me.”
Jake laughed bitterly.
“You got yourself some rich Canadian boyfriend now?”
“I’m American,” Daniel said. “And my finances are irrelevant.”
Dad looked at me.
“So this is it? You found a man, bought a house, and decided you don’t need us?”
The statement revealed how little he understood.
“I decided I don’t need to purchase a place in the family.”
Mom had told me I would marry into someone else’s family.
Dad had given property to Jake because men carried the legacy.
Even now, he assumed Daniel was the reason I had become stronger.
He could not imagine I had rescued myself.
Dad pushed the expense sheet closer.
“Think carefully. If you refuse, your mother may lose everything.”
“That is not true.”
“The credit cards—”
“Are paying for Jake’s properties.”
“They belong to the family.”
“No. According to the inheritance agreement, they belong to Jake.”
I pulled a copy of the disclaimer from my purse.
I had requested it from the Georgia attorney after moving.
I placed it on the table.
“This document says I have no legal or financial interest in any of the three homes. Your lawyer confirmed that I have no responsibility for taxes, repairs, loans, or maintenance.”
Dad looked stunned.
“You called the lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“You went behind my back?”
“I protected myself.”
Jake picked up the document and scanned it.
“You planned this.”
“I learned from watching all of you plan the meeting in Hazelwood.”
Dad’s expression shifted from anger to something almost wounded.
“Your mother misses you.”
“I miss parts of her too.”
“Then help her.”
“I will help Mom leave the grocery store if she wants to build an independent financial plan. I will not fund Jake.”
Dad looked at me sharply.
“You’d separate your mother from her family?”
“I would help her stop carrying the consequences of Jake’s choices.”
Jake stood so quickly that his chair scraped the floor.
“You think you’re better than me.”
I stood too.
“No. But I finally understand I’m not less than you.”
He looked as if I had struck him.
The words hung between us.
For years, every argument had been about money, education, or property.
This was the truth beneath all of them.
I was no longer willing to be the lesser child.
Jake grabbed the expense sheet and folder.
“Come on, Dad.”
Dad remained seated.
He looked older than I remembered.
“What happens to us now?” he asked.
The question held no authority.
Only fear.
“You go home,” I said. “You sell the truck. Jake gets a steady job. You rent the properties responsibly. Mom stops paying for his wedding. You solve the problems where they started.”
Dad stared down at his hands.
“You make it sound easy.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“Then why won’t you help?”
“Because every time I save Jake, he learns he doesn’t have to change.”
I reached into my purse and removed a hotel reservation confirmation.
“I booked you two rooms for tonight near the airport. I paid for one night because I did not want you stranded. Your return flight leaves tomorrow.”
Jake looked furious.
“You expect us to leave after one day?”
“Yes.”
Dad slowly took the reservation.
For the first time in my life, he accepted something from me without pretending it was his right.
We left the coffee shop separately.
That evening, Daniel and I returned to my house.
I closed the door and leaned against it.
My entire body began shaking.
Daniel placed his hands gently on my shoulders.
“You did well.”
“I feel terrible.”
“You can do the right thing and still feel terrible.”
I looked at him.
“I thought standing up to them would make me feel powerful.”
“Sometimes it just makes you tired.”
I laughed through sudden tears.
He held me while I cried.
The next morning, Dad sent one message before boarding his flight.
Your mother didn’t know we came. Don’t blame her.
I read it several times.
It was not an apology.
But it was the first time Dad had ever attempted to protect Mom from the consequences of his choices.
Two months later, Melissa called me late at night.
Her voice shook.
“Jenna, something happened.”
“What?”
“Jake used Dad’s signature to apply for a loan against one of the townhomes.”
I sat upright in bed.
“Was Dad involved?”
“No. He didn’t know.”
“How much?”
“One hundred twenty thousand dollars.”
My breath caught.
“What did he do with it?”
“Nobody knows. But the bank called Dad today.”
I stared into the darkness.
May you like
The family had spent years treating Jake as the guardian of the Mitchell legacy.
Now the son they trusted with everything might take everything away.
