S. Bodeen - The Fallout

Philip A. Whitaker… 38… missing… blood-spattered apartment… The article was short, but it got my heart pounding. What if something had happened to Phil? What if he was gone forever? I started to smile, but then I looked up at Eddy. “Why are you so upset?”

Eddy shook his head and wouldn’t look at me. “I know you don’t get it, but Phil was good to me and Gram while you guys were… away. I didn’t know what had happened. I only knew you were all gone and Gram and Phil were all I had.” He looked at Gram.

She nodded. “He made sure we had everything we needed. But if I’d known…” She made a fist and smacked it into the palm of her other hand.

I set the tablet down, then put a hand on Eddy’s arm. “I’m sorry.” But, really, I wasn’t. Not even close.

Eddy went into where Mom and Lexie were watching television, and flipped the channel to the news. I followed, carrying Cara. The story about Phil was big news. “How long do you think they’ll wait?” I asked Mom.

“For what?”

I shrugged. “If he’s gone… I mean, someone has to run YK.”

She nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t know. We’ll have to see.” A funny smile played at the corner of her lips. She didn’t seem surprised at the news.

Did she have something to do with Phil’s disappearance?

No way. I shoved away the thought as Els held a platter of fresh cinnamon rolls in front of me. Cara stirred and reached out for one.

“Want one, Cara?”

She nodded, so I carried her back into the kitchen and put her up on a stool, getting her some milk and a small piece of roll. I picked up one and took a bite, then, as Els was passing them around to everyone else, I quickly poured myself a glass of milk and went back up to my room.

I went online and found the article Eddy had showed me and printed it out. I glanced at the picture of Phil and called him the worst name I could think of. Then I added, “I hope you did get what you deserved. And that you’re gone for good.”

I opened my drawer and put the sheet of paper inside, along with the flash drive. I planned on never looking at either again.

As nearly two weeks went by with no sign of Phil, it became clear that the company had to make some decisions. Since the will named Eddy and me to take over when we were twenty-five, and Mom was obviously in charge of us, the board named her temporarily in control of YK. She was happy at that, to have Phil out of the way, but she had no desire to actually run the company.

The last week of August, she and Eddy and I were with the seven members of the YK board, in the same meeting room we’d seen Phil the last time. Mom said, “I believe it is apparent to everyone here that I don’t have the faculties, or the time, to run this company.” She nodded at us. “And my sons aren’t ready. But I want them to be part of this company, part of this process. One day this place will belong to them. They need to start learning about it now.”

The company lawyer pulled out a sheath of papers and passed them out to all of us. I glanced down at a list of names; all were people Dad had groomed, thus all were people loyal to my father.

He cleared his throat. “These are the choices to run the company.”

My heart started pounding.

Who was to say any of them were better than Phil?

Any, or all of them, could have known about the Compound, could have helped keep us down there.

Mom pointed to a name. “Mr. O’Connor. Can we appoint him?”

I grabbed Mom’s arm and whispered, “How do we know that—”

“Shh. Eli. I know him.” She spoke up for the board. “O’Connor is capable, right?”

The president, a woman in a black pantsuit with a severe blond bob, nodded. “He’s on the list.”

Mom nodded. “Can we agree to appoint him for six months? See how it goes?”

The board conferred with one another for a moment, but they all seemed to nod. The president spoke again. “Yes, six months.”

“And my sons can start being involved?”

My hands turned to fists. I hated that my mother, wife of the founder of YK, had to beg like this, had to bow at their feet to get what she wanted: her sons, the legal heirs of YK, to have some small fingerhold into the company that they would inherit in less than ten years.

I stood up and walked into the hall, letting the door slam behind me. The door opened and closed quietly. Eddy grabbed my arm and swung me around to face him. “What are you doing?”

I shook my head. “I hate this. All of it.” I let out a deep breath. “Mainly I hate that these people are all still loyal to Dad, after everything he did.”

Eddy didn’t look like he agreed with me. Not at all.

“What?” I asked.

He said, “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

He ran his hands through his hair and then let them drop. “You go on and on about Dad, how bad he was.” He lifted a hand. “But he built this place from scratch. He started so many charities that have helped so many people.”

“Seriously?” I felt my face turn red. “You’re defending him? That’s ridiculous.”

Eddy looked at the floor and didn’t say anything for a second. Then he looked at me, his eyes narrowing. “I lost my father when I was nine. You didn’t. You had him for six more years. So you don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t say about him.”

“But he—”

“What? He what? Kept you guys down there? Yeah. I know. I hear about it all the time. I live it all the time. Every frickin’ day. I got my family back, but…” He paused for a second. “What exactly did I get? A bunch of people trying to get over something that happened to them that I wasn’t a part of. You tell me Dad went nuts, did all this. But that’s not the father I remember.” He shook his head. “You don’t get it. I lost everything when I was nine. Everything! And now I have most of it back. But it’s not the same.” He stopped and looked down at the floor. “I have to adjust, too.”

“Eddy, I—”

He held up a hand. “You need to let me do it in my own way. I lost my dad when he was still my hero. So that’s what he’s been the last six years whenever I’ve thought about him. My hero.” He shook his head. “You’re not going to change that kind of thinking so fast.”

None of that had ever crossed my mind. That the last time Eddy saw our father, Dad still towered over him in more ways than one, still seemed someone to look up to. Eddy hadn’t known the father of the past six years. The man I knew, who slowly went mad, and tried to take his family with him.

I would have thought Eddy would be on my side. That he would start thinking differently about our father based solely on what I told him about the past six years. It would take longer for him to see the truth, and I needed to give him the time.

I put my hand on my brother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have thought of how it would make you feel.” But the truth was, I couldn’t.

“I know.” He sighed. “We’d better go back in.”

I opened the door and we took our seats again.

“Here they are.” The president took out a YK tablet and tapped it with one long red fingernail. “I’ll set up a date for them to come in and decide what they want to do.” She looked up. “I’ll have the director of charitable contributions clear her schedule for tomorrow morning. Will that do?”

Mom looked at me and Eddy. We both nodded, and she said, “Yes.”

There were a few more things to discuss, but Eddy leaned over to me and whispered, “Do you even know what you want to do here?”

I started to speak, but then had to pause. Other than getting rid of Phil and making sure Mom was listened to, what did I want?