Personal Possessions (6 page)

Greg wasn’t the type to
beat around the bush, he said what he had to say and didn’t care
who he pissed off. So, if something was bothering him, he would’ve
already come out and said it.

“Well, I’m on the four
o’clock flight into Boston, I’ll meet you at the bar and we’ll get
a drink.”

“Sounds good, call me when
ya land.”

Parking the rental around
the corner from the attorney’s office, so that they couldn’t see me
coming, I glanced down at my watch, 10:05. I was early, our
appointment wasn’t until 10:45. I liked to be early, it allowed me
time to go over important information right before heading in, and
also to get a feel of my surroundings. To know what I was going to
be heading into.

Like this small attorney’s
office, he probably was an attorney just about ready to retire,
doesn’t give much thought about the fight anymore. All he wants is
his client to sign the papers, and collect his percentage. I knew I
could argue my way outta anything with these people. Sometimes the
fight could get dirty, but I didn’t see that happening this
time.

As partners, Greg and I
agreed on everything. Granted sometimes we’d have to talk each
other into agreeing, but we stated facts as pros and built
arguments against the cons, eventually coming to a mutual
agreement. One thing that I really went to bat for was that our
names not be used in the contracts. Everything needed to be done
under Mac-Gentry and for good reason, backlash.

You have to realize that
these people had spent the last year or two working their asses off
to try and save their company, by the time it would come to us, it
was too late. They often refused to realize this was the end, or
else they couldn’t. So, for Greg’s family’s sake, I didn’t want his
name or information placed on anything that would be handed to
pissed off, fairly well-off people.

Me, I couldn’t care less.
I didn’t have any one to protect, especially a family. I hadn’t
been back to see my mom since the day I left Georgia. When I passed
this state’s border, I never looked back. Nothing here made me want
to turn back, until now.

This meeting right here
was the first one that affected me personally. I did not want my
name on any legal documentation with the companies that were
subsidiaries of the Mac-Gentry firm. My father was a smart man, and
I didn’t want him seeing this coming. I wanted him trapped and
defenseless.

I went through the last of
the paperwork I had and put it all in my briefcase. I glanced at my
watch again and then looked back up. 10:40. I drove the rental
around the corner, noticing several cars parked in front of the
building, one being a jaguar. I knew that jaguar, my father
purchased a new one every two years for as long as I could
remember. He was here.

The man that treated my
mother and me like we were gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe was
here, was in the building that stood right in front of me. The best
part was, he is getting ready to sign over a business that was so
thoughtlessly run into the ground that he needed me to save it. He
was signing it over to me.

I was the one, who would
never be as good as him. The accident he never wanted, the mistake
that tied him to a woman that repulsed him most of his life. He
continually wished I had never been born, and was not shy of
letting this be known.

Grabbing my briefcase, I
got out of the car and set the alarm. “Now let’s see how much you
regret me,” I said as I headed into the building.

Entering the door, I
thought maybe a secretary would greet me but no one was sitting at
the desk. Continuing deeper into the building, I heard the voices
of old southern men chattering on about whose golf game reigned
supreme.

That was one thing I did
miss about the south, the long, drawn out southern accent was so
unlike what I had become accustomed to, living in Boston. My
southern drawl had diminished from living up north. I was even told
once and a while by others, that they could hear a slight Boston
inflection in my voice.

The soft sound of Karen
Carpenter singing “Close to You” hummed over ceiling speakers. I
wasn’t really paying attention, but I could subconsciously hear it.
My heart was pounding with the beat of the music but louder,
roaring with power and determination.

This was the final battle,
and I was taking down the beast. This time, he wasn’t the one who
was demanding, he was the one being demanded, by me. As soon as I
turned the corner, walking into that conference room, the eyes of
twelve older gentlemen turned my way, but only one voice was
heard.

“Well, I’ll be
goddamned!”

I walked to the head of
the table, pulling back the chair to take a seat. I always sat at
the head of the table, I really didn’t give a shit who thought they
belonged there, I wanted to exude power. Authority. This was my
meeting, and shit wasn’t going to happen unless I said it would. I
laid my briefcase on the table and decided this would be a good
time to acknowledge the others, I think I had proved my point that
I would be doing the talking in this get together.

“Gentlemen,” I said to the
room with a nod of my head, and then immediately sat down and
opened my case up. This little peaceful gathering was not going to
last long.

“This is horseshit!” my
father exclaimed.

“
Tripp!” I heard from one
of the men beside him, obviously, he must’ve been one of my
father’s partners. These men still had no idea who I
was.

My dad’s name was Orville
Henry McHale III. Since he was the third generation, he got stuck
with the nickname, Tripp, for triple. That’s what he was known as,
I’m not even sure many even knew he had another name other than,
Tripp.

Clearing my throat, I gave
my dad a nice long stare as I began to announce myself.

“
Gentlemen, I’d like to
introduce myself. My name is, Trevor McHale. I am CEO and
co-founder of The Mac-Gentry Firm.”

My eyes never left my
father. I could see out of the corner them though, the heads of the
other men beginning to turn towards each other as soft murmurs
filled the room.

“Our main offices, as most
of you know, are based in Boston, but I own several hundred
companies nationally.” Looking down at my watch, and glancing back
towards my father, I continued “…and in just a few, I will be
including this company to my list as well.”

As I took a seat, I saw my
father stand up.

“I’ll be damned if I sign
anything over to you. You don’t deserve a damn thing.” Balling up
his fist, he struck the table.

My eyes slowly went up to
meet his.

“Your choice on what
happens with this company has been null and void for several years,
Mr…”

I couldn’t even bring
myself to say my last name when my eyes were locked with his. But
then I didn’t need to because he cut me off from any further
discussion.

“I’m pulling out of this
deal now, Marshall!”

He threw his seat back,
and began to stomp out of the office when the man on the other side
of him, who I take as being Marshall, decided to inform him of the
facts.

“Tripp, sit
down!”

My father stopped right
where he was. Spinning around, his face was beat red. He knew he
had nothing else in his corner to arm himself with. He was
defeated, and that chapped his ass. I loved every minute of
it.

He thought he was being
quiet, but I could hear him when he told the other gentleman,
“Marshall, I ain’t signin' shit over to him.”

Marshall helped him back
to his seat, leaning down in his ear and informing him, “Yes you
are, Tripp.”

The attorney continued the
meeting, but my father never took his eyes off of me. I stared
right back at him. I wanted him to see what was in mine. Rage,
hatred and disgust, all of it aimed toward him. I wanted him to
know I was the one taking everything he had. When he glared at me,
I smiled a smirk of gratification, and watched his eyes go
black.

The time had come for the
signatures to be completed. Marshall handed him a set of papers, he
looked at it, then looked back at me.

“Do you even give a shit
what you did to your momma?”

The grin dropped from my
face. If he didn’t sign those papers within the next ten minutes, I
was going to take all my years of aggression out on him, here in
this backwoods lawyer’s office.

I had to maintain control.
He wanted me to show my ass, he wanted me to attack him. I held my
hand out, speaking to no one in particular.

“
Someone needs to hand me
a set of papers.”

Three sets were thrust
into my hand, before I could move my eyes in the direction of the
men.

Signing the copies, I
handed them back to Marshall. Eventually, my father begrudgingly
signed his copies as well. I stood up, when out of nowhere my
father appeared behind me, flinging my chair across the
room.

“Are you happy now, you
son of a bitch. You get what’cha wanted?”

Continuing to pack up my
paperwork, filing it neatly in my briefcase, he was ranting and
raving behind me like a lunatic.

“You don’t deserve shit!
You’re a bastard, leavin' your momma with no word, no
communication. You killed your momma’s spirit! It’s all your fault
she is who she is now.”

That drove me over the
edge. I held on as long as I could, I’d dealt with this shit for
eighteen years. Every time I was in his presence, he’d spew out the
same bullshit. But after thirteen years away, I couldn’t do it. I
wasn’t listening to it anymore.

He was no different than a
man that walked away from his kids, and had nothing else to do with
them. In fact, that type of man was better than him considering
that asshole wasn’t around to inflict his fucked up beliefs, and
opinions on his kids. My father, made damn sure I knew how he
felt.

Turning around quickly, I
grabbed him by the throat and backed him up against the wall. Every
man in the room flew to us trying to pull us apart, that was not
going to happen just yet, I had some shit to say, and there was no
way in hell anyone was stopping me.

“You listen here, ole’
man, “I gritted my teeth as I went to say everything I’d held onto
for years. “You broke her! You destroyed her years ago, with your
fuckin’ words over and over telling her she wasn’t shit to anyone.
You kicked her while she was down by bringing whores into what she
tried her fucking hardest to make a happy home. ”

By this point, I was
growling through my teeth, holding back from bashing this bastard’s
face in with everything that was inside of me. Wanting to take out
on him everything that he took from my mother. All the nights, I
heard her sobbing, as she walked by my room to tell me goodnight. I
knew that would be another night she would be crying herself to
sleep, all for this man who didn’t deserve to walk on the same side
of the street as her.

He drove my mother to a
nervous breakdown, not being able to grasp life rationally. Having
to be fed by a nurse, made to get up by someone to take a shower.
My hold around his neck fluctuated just at the thought of what her
life had become, altering between squeezing and allowing him small
drafts of oxygen, just enough air that he didn’t pass
out.

I got up nose to nose with
one of the two men that made my heart black and unforgiving. Years
I looked forward to this, and soon the other would be meeting my
eyes as well. I got up close, so close he could clearly hear what I
had to say to him.

“You had better watch your
words carefully, ole man. Next time, there might not be someone
here to stop me!” Finally allowing the men to pull me off of him, I
had just one more thing left to say. I grabbed my case, and walked
to the door pausing in the threshold.

“You won’t ever see me
again. I just wanted to make sure you saw that I became everything
you wanted to be, and then I came and took everything you had. The
best part of it all, I enjoyed every fuckin’ minute of destroying
your life. Have a nice rest of life, well - what’s left of
it.”

I knew he didn’t have much
in his bank account, so he would either have to sell something, or
what I was counting on beg.

I walked out the door, and
straight to my car. Throwing my case in the back of the car, along
with my suit jacket I was ready to go. I wasn’t going to need it
anymore for what I planned to accomplish today. Shit, just to
celebrate, I’d buy a new Armani suit. It was only Armani for me, my
closet was full of them. I had one more stop to make before I
caught my flight back to Boston.

Hopping on the interstate,
I drove as though I didn’t have a care in the world, even though I
knew I was taking a chance at something I wasn’t really prepared
for if it went bad.

I didn’t want to think
negative, I had just crossed one item off of my list. You would
think I’d be happy about what just took place I hadn’t felt
happiness in so long, I had forgotten what it felt like. This
wasn’t happiness, it was - retribution.

Almost.

The exit was approaching,
so I grabbed my phone. As I came to a stop at the bottom of the
ramp, I hit my speed dial. Her voice pierced me as soon as the
second ring stopped.