Whitefern (Audrina 2)

Darkness before the Light

Papa would rest beside our mother, both just a few feet from the false grave that bore my name. Because Sylvia was taking Papa’s death worse than any of us, I spent most of my time with her during the days that immediately followed, and Arden handled the arrangements for the funeral. In the course of doing that, he suffered a big shock. He met with Papa’s attorney, Mr. Johnson, and learned that Papa had recently changed his will; he had left everything to the two of us and to Sylvia, as expected, but he had given me fifty-one percent ownership of the brokerage.

Arden returned home in a rage after the meeting. I hadn’t attended because I thought, as he did, that it was not going to be anything significant.

“Why did he do this?” he ranted, marching up and down in front of Sylvia and me and waving his arms as violently as if he wanted to throw off his hands. He clutched a copy of the paperwork in his right hand. “Why? Why? I’ll tell you why. He knew how much I knew about his earlier dealings, the graft and corruption.” He paused as he thought more about it. “Sure, that’s it. Of course. He did this to punish me for confronting him with his dishonesty years ago. How stupid to use you for his revenge.”

“It wasn’t revenge,” I said, shocked but feeling like someone had to stick up for poor Papa. “He was worried about the way you were spending money and not concentrating on the work. All those nights you were out drinking while he went to bed early so he could greet the opening stock market.”

“That’s . . . an exaggeration. I was at work doing what had to be done when it had to be done. You’re getting me off the point. You don’t really know anything about our business.”

“Papa always told me I was very smart. I knew enough to help you start, remember?”

“That was the basics that anyone would know. How can you vote on major decisions? You could count on your fingers how many times you’ve been there these past few years. You don’t even know my secretary’s name.”

“Yes, I do. Mrs. Crown, Nora Crown.”

He paused and glared at me. “Now, you listen and listen hard, Audrina. I want you to go to Mr. Johnson’s office after the funeral and sign over everything to me. I’ll call him and have the proper paperwork drawn up and ready for your signature so we can reverse this . . . this stupidity.”

He waited for my response. I was holding Sylvia’s hand, and we were both looking at him, surprised. Even poor Sylvia could sense it, his contempt. This was not the time to rage about anything, especially Papa. We were in mourning. It was disrespectful to Papa’s memory. Maybe I didn’t know as much as Arden did about the business that Papa had built and brought him into, but I had Papa’s grit and determination. I could learn anything.

“I’ll think about it, Arden,” I said softly. “When the time is proper.”

“Think about it? Think about what?”

“Lower your voice. You’re frightening Sylvia,” I told him.

He barely gave her a glance. “Lower my voice? You’ve barely ever looked at the stock market these past years. You’ve probably forgotten the difference between a put and a call, selling short and buying on margin. The man was obviously not in his right mind when he had our attorney do this. If it wasn’t out of some revenge, then it was because he was sick. That’s it. He was sick. His brain wasn’t getting enough blood, which was why he wasn’t capable of thinking straight. Dr. Prescott will testify to that, and Mr. Johnson will agree.”

“There was nothing wrong with Papa’s mind. And you know that he spent a lot of time with me explaining the stock market when I was younger. It’s not something you forget quickly. He thought it was a good way to teach math.”

“Oh, boy, teaching a child math through the market. Like that makes you a broker.”

“I didn’t say it made me a broker. But he did take me to the brokerage and even announced that I would be his partner someday when he had his own company.”

“He just wished he had a son to inherit everything. Every man wants that. I became his son. He said that to me after he married my mother. Or at least, I thought I had become his son. What father would do this to his son?” he asked, waving the papers in our faces.

“Stop it. Stop saying those things. I don’t like talking about going against his orders while his body is waiting for burial.”

“Against his orders? Don’t make me laugh. You think you could choose stocks for our clients the way you thought you could pick winners when you were a child? Tying your birthstone ring to a string and dangling it over a list of stocks in the paper until it pointed to the right one?”

“I did that, and Papa made money on the stock. You yourself were not so very good at it in the beginning. Did you forget?”

“Please!” he cried. “I was learning, whereas all you Whitefern women were crazy with your beliefs in magic . . . hoodoo, voodoo . . . paying that psychic to predict whether your mother would have a boy or a girl.”

“I’m sorry I told you that story.”

“I bet. Well, hear this, Audrina. There’s no magic in our business. It takes knowledge and experience. You don’t really have either when it comes to the stock market, especially today. It’s too sophisticated. You’d do no better than . . . than her!” he screamed, pointing at Sylvia.

Sylvia began to cry.

“Don’t point at her like that. She doesn’t understand!” I shouted back at him. That only upset her more. Anyone arguing in the house put her into a panic.

“You don’t understand, either,” he snapped back. “You don’t understand how I feel being made a fool of like this. You can feel sorry for . . . for that,” he said, pointing at Sylvia again, “but not for your husband!”

Sylvia’s sobbing increased, and her body shook.

“Look what you’ve done!” I cried. “I’ve been keeping her calm. It hasn’t been easy.”