Chapter 4 - The Midnight Negotiation
""Let him sell them,"" I said into the phone.
The line went dead silent for two full seconds before Mom shrieked, ""What did you say?!""
""I said let him sell them. If Dad wants to take responsibility for enabling your reckless spending for three decades, that's his choice as an adult,"" I said calmly. ""Those watches and that motorcycle won't keep Ben from becoming disabled. If Dad sells them, he covers half of what you stole. It's the bare minimum.""
""You are cold-blooded! Both of you!"" Mom screamed. ""I gave birth to you! I dedicated my entire life to giving you boys a respectable home, and this is how you repay me? By tearing our marriage apart? By humiliating me in front of our community?""
""You humiliated yourself the second you spent medical money on a seafood tower,"" Ben spoke directly into the phone, his voice steadying. ""Mom, listen to me very carefully. If the full twelve thousand six hundred dollars is not wired into Daniel’s personal account by Wednesday at noon, Daniel and I are walking into the local police precinct. We will file a formal report for unauthorized digital banking fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny against you.""
A sharp intake of breath echoed through the phone. ""You wouldn't dare. I'm your mother. No district attorney would take a family dispute seriously!""
""Try me,"" Ben said coldly. ""Daniel has the digital transaction logs. The bank’s fraud department has already flagged the IP address of the withdrawal, which originated from your desktop computer while Daniel was verified on a business flight to Chicago. You committed a felony, Mom. If you don't return the money, you can explain your party budget to a judge.""
Ben hung up without waiting for a reply. He tossed the phone onto the cushion, his breathing shallow. It was the first time in his entire life he had ever drawn a definitive line in the sand with our mother.
Twenty minutes later, heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway outside Ben's apartment door, followed by three hesitant knocks. I opened it to find Dad standing under the flickering hallway light. He looked ten years older. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, and he held a thick manila envelope under his arm.
""Can I come in?"" Dad asked quietly.
Ben nodded from the sofa. Dad stepped inside, leaving the door slightly ajar before closing it softly behind him. He walked over to the kitchen counter, opened the envelope, and pulled out two cashier's checks.
""I didn't go to Roger's,"" Dad said, his voice raw. ""Roger wouldn't have had that kind of cash on hand on a Sunday night anyway. I went to the safe deposit box at the 24-hour branch downtown. This was my personal contingency fund—money I had set aside from the sale of my father's workshop six years ago. Linda didn't know about it. If she knew, she would have spent it years ago on redecorating the living room.""
He slid the two cashier's checks across the counter. One was made out to the hospital surgical pavilion for eight thousand dollars. The other was made out to Ben for four thousand six hundred dollars.
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""There's your twelve thousand six hundred,"" Dad said, looking at Ben with profound sorrow. ""It's done. Your surgery will proceed as scheduled.""
Ben looked at the checks, but he didn't reach for them. ""Why did you let it get this far, Dad? You watched her plan that absurd party for four months. You saw the catering bills piling up. Why didn't you stop her?""
