A Better Man (The Men of Halfway House) (27 page)

Matt placed a hand on Julian's crossed arms, hoping to keep his anger at bay.

"Mom, stop trying to contest the will. The will is notarized with a letter from her lawyer proving she was of sound mind when she made her decision. It's legitimate and what she wanted. So you're wasting your time. Stop whatever you started."

"Started what?"

Matt turned to see his father enter the sunroom. He was dressed in his business suit and carried his briefcase, obviously ready to get to the office.

"Good morning, Matthew," he said in his always level tone, "and Julian."

Matt looked over to see Julian's shocked expression. Seems he was equally surprised to realize Matt's father remembered his name.

"I saw the boys arrive. When I didn't see them in the house, I assumed they'd be here with you."

"They're just visiting," Matt's mother responded with a wave in the air.

"Dad, do you know what she's doing?" Matt asked, hoping his father wasn't a part of this.

"Tell me," his father spoke in his soft tone.

"Mitchell, this is petty. You hate being late to the office," she said as she stood.

Matt's father held up a quieting hand to his wife and repeated to Matt, "Tell me."

"She's contesting Aunt Eleanor's will, Dad. I called the bank and my accounts are frozen."

Matt's father turned to face his wife. "Olivia?"

"It's our money—" she began weakly.

"We spoke about this. It was Eleanor's choice to do as she wished with the money, not yours or mine, and she chose to give her money to Matthew."

"Mitchell—"

"Enough," he responded in a firm tone. He loosened his tie and shrugged off his jacket. "Sit down, Olivia."

"Mitchell—"

"I said sit."

She fell into the chair on command and her body slumped as if she were a child who had been reprimanded. His father methodically hung his suit jacket on one of the chairs and sat. He then spoke to Matt but intently focused his attention at Matt's mother. "We won't be contesting the will or attempting to freeze any of the funds in your account."

"But, Mitchell—"

Matt's normally mild-mannered father banged a fist on the table top. "Enough, Olivia."

She quieted then fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

"Matthew, I'll resolve this with your mother. You can return to your project. I know you have a deadline approaching. I will come by and visit with you later this afternoon once everything has returned to order."

Matt nodded quickly, grabbed Julian's arms, and pulled him out of the sunroom.

They stood outside the closed door and stared at each other.

"Did your dad just grow a pair?"

Matt shrugged in total disbelief, recalling his father's behavior.

"Are you okay?" Julian asked, waving a hand in front of Matt's face, trying to get his attention.

Matt looked up, still dazed from what had just happened.

"Did I hear right?" he asked. "Is my dad visiting the halfway house?"

Chapter 19

Matt fidgeted.

"What the hell is he doing just standing there?" Julian whispered to Matt as they looked out the window, peeking out from behind the blinds like two old nosey neighbors watching their surroundings.

They kept watching as Mitchell Collings-Lloyd stared at the house. He'd arrived a few minutes before and stood outside the front gate, stared for a few minutes, then passed the gate and stared at the house again.

"I don't know," Matt responded in the same hushed tone as if his father could hear them.

"Why isn't he coming in?"

"I don't know," Matt responded as anxiety pooled in the pit of his stomach. He wished he knew what his dad was thinking. He was proud of the house and the work Julian and he had completed, but the outside didn't compare to the changes inside. For a moment the tension eased as he thought of the irony—it had taken a year for them to renovate the house into the beautiful home it was today, and during the same time, Matt felt as if he too had been renovated into a new man.

"I wish he'd just get his ass in here already," Julian grumbled, obviously as anxious as Matt. "Have you thought about what you want to say to him?"

Matt shook his head. "I want to hear him out first." He wasn't sure what his father would say or how he felt about so many things that had happened lately. He was glad his father was here. He wanted him to see the changes they had made, to be proud of the work they had accomplished. His heart twisted at the thought that gaining any sort of praise from his parents might not be possible.

"Here he comes," Julian said, breaking into his thoughts. Julian turned Matt so they were facing each other. He reached up and held Matt's face in his hands then placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

Matt's heart thumped in unison with the knock at the door. Julian gave Matt a final squeeze of his hand before darting upstairs, leaving Matt alone to settle the anxiety that twisted his stomach.

"Hi, Dad," he greeted his father when he opened the door. "Come on in."

His father entered the house and did a quick visual sweep of the entryway before he spoke. "Can we sit somewhere and talk?"

Matt nodded, words too difficult to voice. He led them to the kitchen area and offered his father a seat at the table. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please," his father responded as he took a seat at the small kitchen table. "I spoke to your mother, and I've contacted the bank and lawyer. You will no longer have issues with your mother, your account, or her attempt to contest Ellie's will."

Matt smiled softly at his father's use of Eleanor's nickname. He hadn't heard it since he was a child.

"Thank you, Dad," Matt said, handing his father a cup of fresh coffee then taking the seat opposite his dad.

"I'm sorry, Son," he said before taking a sip.

"You don't need to apologize for Mom. She's the one who should be apologizing."

Matt's father let out a quiet huff. "I think we both know that is highly unlikely."

Matt nodded again, unsure of what this conversation would entail. He couldn't recall ever sitting down with his father alone like this.

"I meant I was sorry for not being there for you during all this."

Matt tried to swallow past the emotions tightening his throat.
All this
potentially encompassed so much and Matt didn't know exactly what his father was referring to. He had so many questions, but there was one that stung the most.

"Why didn't you visit me in prison, Dad?"

"You didn't want me to visit."

"You didn't even try, you…what did you say?" Matt asked when his father's words finally sunk in.

"I was told you didn't want me to visit. That you were embarrassed and felt it would be too painful to see me," his father admitted quietly as he outlined the rim of the mug with the tip of his finger.

"Who told you that?" Matt asked before the realization felt like a stab through his chest. "Mom, right?"

Matt's father nodded.

"She lied. I never said that. I would have loved to have had you visit me those years."

Matt's father ran his fingers through his hair, just as Matt did when he was nervous, frustrated, or trying to search for the right words.

"I'm sorry. I should have suspected. I guess I've always tried to see the positive and hoped she would change."

"She hated me being in prison. She's told me a few times how I'm dragging the family name through the dirt," Matt finished quietly, mirroring his father's tone.

"You are doing no such thing."

"Sometimes I feel as if I've failed you and Mom somehow."

Matt's father shook his head. "You haven't failed me or your mother at all. Regardless of what she's told you, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Matt couldn't stop the rush of words, not sure when he'd have another chance to speak candidly with his father. "Dad, it's not just prison. The other night at dinner, when I finally told you and Mom I was gay. Mom was so angry. And you…you didn't say anything. So I know—"

"I was upset."

"I know," Matt said quietly, trying to hold back the hurt.

"I was upset with myself."

Matt huffed a painful laugh. "Why? Because you think it's your fault as a parent because I'm gay? It doesn't work that way, Dad."

Matt's father glanced at him with disbelief, then quickly looked away. "I thought I failed you as a father. Not because you're gay but because you felt a need to wait so long to tell us. I can't imagine you just figured out your preference that night." His father looked up sheepishly.

Matt smiled. "Um, no, Dad. I've known for quite some time."

"I should have said something that night to you. But my mind wandered and all I could focus on was trying to figure out where I went wrong. At what point did everything change where you felt you couldn't come to me to speak to me about this," his father said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I've been a horrible father."

"You're not a horrible father, Dad," Matt said, reaching out and placing a hand on his father's shoulder.

"I just wanted to make sure you always had the best growing up. I never wanted you to have to struggle, so I focused my efforts on making sure the family business did well so you, Alex, and your mother would have everything you needed or wanted. I heard my dad tell me too many stories of how his great-grandfather struggled growing up."

"Dad, you're not going to tell me he went uphill, in the snow—"

"Barefoot, of course, to avoid wearing out the soles of his shoes."

"Really?" Matt asked in disbelief.

This time, Matt's father extended his hand and placed it on Matt's shoulder. "I'm kidding, Son."

"Oh," Matt said as a flush of heat colored his face. "Julian teases me, tells me I'm a little slow sometimes with the punch line."

"I don't think you had a chance for many jokes growing up. I'm sorry about that. Where is your young man?"

"He's upstairs, rushing to try and complete everything before our deadline."

"He has a strong yet caring nature," he said in his quiet tone as he slowly spun his coffee mug. "He clearly loves you. I was rather impressed with the way he stood up to your mother. Not many would dare do that."

Matt blinked at his father, not sure what to respond. "Alex told me Mom was upset about it."

"Upset doesn't quite sum it up," he said softly, a ghost of a smile hinted in his expression. He was pensive, most likely gathering his thoughts and Matt felt it best to not interrupt. "I'm sorry."

"Dad, I think I'm going to ban that word from this home."

Matt's father looked up, confusion coloring his expression.

"Julian hates that word."

"It is a horrible word that some think can wipe away so much pain. I guess that's what I'm trying to do now by saying it, but I don't know what else to say to you. I didn't want to run the company but I didn't have much of a choice. After your grandfather died, I had to take it over. You were only two, maybe three. I've spent so many years focusing on the company and what I felt you needed, what your brother needed, and your mother…" He shook his head. "I was wrong, and I missed so much. It feels as if you grew up in a blink of an eye and I wasn't a part of that. How did that happen?"

Matt had to look away from the lost look on his father's face. He hadn't ever seen him like this. His father was the rock of the family, the quiet strength, the reliable one. Matt pulled at a stray string on his frayed jeans. "Do you realize this is the longest conversation we've had?"

"And you still want me to believe I haven't failed you?" his father said, rubbing his forehead.

"Dad—"

"What do you know about me?"

"Excuse me?" Matt asked, thrown off by the change in topic.

"Aside from working endless hours, what do you know about me?"

Matt was thoughtful, trying to string together what he wanted to say. "You're strong, in your quiet way. I don't think I've ever seen you angry except for this morning with Mom when you raised your voice. You've never done that."

His father pursed his lips and nodded. "Do you know I have a hobby?"

Matt smiled. "I didn't think you had time for a hobby. You're always working so much."

His father drank the last bit of coffee in his cup before continuing. "That's part of the problem. It seems as if I work so much, I think the last time I actually took some time to do anything was while my father was still alive."

"What was your hobby?" Matt asked curiously.

"Restoring cars. I was working on a beautiful '69 Camaro when Dad passed."

"I didn't know that," Matt smiled sadly, realizing he didn't really know much about his father at all.

"How could you? I've worked almost your entire life nonstop. We've never even taken the time out for a vacation. All this that happened, it's all my fault," he said firmly.

"Dad, stop—"

"No, let me finish please. I worked too many hours to dedicate any time to actually being your father. Spending time with you and Alex was important and I didn't make the time to do that. Alex then started drinking and got out of control, and I thought he'd recover from that. I thought it was just a phase. I tried to write off as many things as I could, hoping to buy him a little time to give him another chance just so he could get himself back on track again. All I ended up doing was making it easier for him to continue his downward spiral. He turned to you, followed you when you left the company. You were the steady one, the one I never had to worry about. Then I find out you were arrested. For a split second, I questioned whether you could do something like this. I'll never forgive myself for doubting you."