Chapter 5 - The Cracks in the Foundation
Spring turned into summer, and the distance between my family and my parents became a canyon. We didn't attend Easter dinner, nor did we respond to the increasingly hysterical group text messages sent by my sister, who was furious that my father had been forced to liquidate a portion of his investment portfolio to cover code violation fines from the city.
It turned out that when I had managed the properties, I maintained a strict schedule of fire safety checks, backflow preventer tests, and structural permits. When Leonard took over, he simply ignored the notices sent by the city inspector, assuming they were "optional suggestions." The city of course did not agree, slapping them with daily fines until the work was completed by certified contractors.
One Tuesday afternoon in June, I was at my day job when my manager told me I had a visitor in the lobby.
I walked out expecting a client, but found my father sitting on the leather couch. He looked diminished. He had lost weight, his suit was slightly rumpled, and the arrogant posture he had maintained his entire life seemed slightly stooped.
"Karen," he said, standing up quickly.
"Dad. You shouldn't be here," I said quietly, keeping my distance. "This is my place of work."
"I just need five minutes, Karen. Please," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. "Just five minutes."
I looked around the quiet lobby, knowing my coworkers were nearby. "Fine. Let's step outside."
We walked out to the shaded plaza beside the office building. The summer air was warm, smelling of cut grass and asphalt.
"What do you want, Dad?"
"We're sinking, Karen," he said plainly, discarding his usual bluster. "The property management company we hired took twelve percent, and then they quit last week because your mother kept calling their staff and screaming at them over the accounting reports. We have two vacant units. The city is threatening a lien on the Oak Street property over an unpermitted porch addition I didn't know about—"
"I told you about that porch addition three years ago," I interrupted gently. "I had a contractor scheduled, but you canceled it because you wanted to use the money for a trip to Cabo."
Leonard swallowed hard, rubbing his forehead. "I didn't realize... I didn't realize how much you were doing. I thought... Harriet always said it was simple work. Just taking rent checks to the bank."
"Harriet lied to you," I said. "Or she was too arrogant to understand what labor looks like. Either way, you believed her."
"Come back, Karen," Leonard said, taking a step toward me, his hands outstretched. "Please. I'll pay you. A real salary. Ten percent of the gross, same as the agency. You can handle it all again. We can put this ugly Christmas business behind us."
I looked at my father, and for the first time, I didn't feel anger. I felt pity. He was a man who had lived his entire life in the shadow of my mother's cruelty, using her coldness as an excuse for his own passivity.
"I have my own company now, Dad," I said.
He blinked, startled. "What?"
"Denton and I bought a property. We renovated it. It's fully rented. We're looking at a second one now."
"With what money?" he demanded, a flash of his old outrage breaking through. "You don't have the capital for that!"
"We made it work. Without you. Without Harriet's 'future funds.'" I leaned in slightly, looking him dead in the eye. "I am never managing your properties again, Dad. Not for ten percent, not for fifty percent. You spent eight years taking my work for granted and treating my daughter like a second-class citizen. You let Harriet humiliate a seven-year-old child at Christmas dinner over a single bill."
"It was just a thousand-dollar check!" Leonard blurted out. "The other kids got trust shares, fine, but Willa got a thousand dollars cash! That's not nothing!"
I froze. My blood ran cold.
"What did you just say?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm.
Leonard hesitated, realizing he had said something wrong. "I... I said the other kids got trust shares, but Willa got a thousand-dollar check..."
May you like
"Willa received a single ten-dollar bill, Dad," I whispered. "A crumpled ten-dollar bill inside an empty envelope."
Leonard's jaw dropped. He went completely pale, the color draining from his face until he looked like a ghost standing in the summer heat. "What? No... no, Karen. I wrote the checks myself. Harriet asked me to prepare the envelopes. I wrote a check for one thousand dollars for Willa. I put it in the envelope myself!"
