Chapter 2 - The Royal CourtI carried Mason in one arm and kept my other arm wrapped tightly around Olivia’s waist as we walked through the kitchen door toward the garage. To get to my truck, however, we had to walk across the broad, covered patio where my mother’s grand party was in full swing.
The scene was grotesque.
Two long, linen-draped tables stretched across the grass, loaded with towering silver platters of prime rib, steamed lobster tails, and whole roasted piglets. Champagne flutes filled with vintage Krug stood beside buckets of ice holding top-shelf liquors. My relatives—cousins, aunts, uncles, and distant family friends I hadn't seen in years—were casually tossing shrimp tails into the grass, laughing, and drinking like kings at a royal banquet.
At the head of the center table sat my mother, Linda. She was wearing a shimmering emerald silk dress, gold bangles ringing both wrists, her hair professionally styled in a towering updo.
When the back door clicked open, the conversation faltered slightly.
My mother turned around, a wide, performative smile spreading across her painted lips. "Ethan! Oh, darling! You’re home early!" She stood up, spreading her arms wide as if welcoming a subject to her court. "Look everyone, the hard-working man of the house is here! We started Mason’s party without you because you were so late, but don't worry—I saved you a plate of lobster!"
She took two steps toward me, her eyes sweeping over Olivia with cold, sharp disdain before returning to me. "Why is she out here? I told her to finish the kitchen service before she came out to mix with the guests. And why are you carrying the baby? She’s soft enough as it is, Ethan."
My Uncle Raymond, holding a glass of seventy-dollar bourbon, gave a loud, hearty laugh. "Hey, Ethan! Your mom really knows how to put on a spread! Best caterers in Dallas! You’re a good son for funding all this!"
I stood still under the wooden pergola. The backyard fell entirely silent as people began to notice my expression. I wasn't smiling. I wasn't greeting anyone. I was looking at my mother with a look so cold, so thoroughly devoid of warmth, that Linda’s arms slowly dropped back to her sides.
"Where did you get the money for this party, Mom?" I asked. My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the hum of the pool filters like an industrial saw.
Linda’s eyes flickered, a tiny muscle in her cheek twitching beneath her foundation. "What do you mean, darling? From the household budget you gave me! I worked so hard to put this together for your son! I spent days planning this menu—"
"Olivia cooked every single dish on these tables," I said, turning to look directly at my aunts. "She spent fourteen hours standing over a hot stove while running a hundred-and-three-degree fever from an untreated kidney infection she’s been hiding because my mother took her car keys."
A gasp rippled through my Aunt Susan and Aunt Clara.
"Ethan!" Linda hissed, her voice dropping into a sharp, threatening undertone as she stepped closer to me. "Don't you dare embarrass me in front of our family! What is wrong with you? She’s exaggerating! She’s always complaining—"
"Mason has a hundred-and-four fever, Mom," I interrupted, staring down at her. "He’s been shivering for twelve hours. And you locked his mother’s keys in your room so she couldn't take him to a doctor."
"He's just teething!" Linda snapped, her composure slipping, revealing the raw, ugly arrogance beneath. "I raised three children, Ethan! I know more about babies than this ungrateful, useless girl you married! She’s trying to set you against your own mother! I gave up my life to move into this house and help you!"
"You didn't move in to help us," I said calmly. "You moved in because you were evicted from your condo in Fort Worth for six months of unpaid rent."
The yard went utterly, terrifyingly dead quiet.
Uncle Raymond dropped his glass. It shattered against the flagstone patio, dark bourbon pooling around his Italian leather shoes.
Linda’s face transformed from performative outrage to pure, blinding shock. "Ethan... how dare you—"
"I have the eviction notice right here on my phone, Mom," I said, holding up the screen. "Along with the bank records showing that the five thousand dollars a month I sent you for 'household bills' wasn't paying our mortgage. It was paying off your personal gambling debts at the casino in Durant."
Linda’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted around the yard, looking at her brothers, her sisters, her nieces, who were all suddenly staring at her with wide, horrified eyes.
"You told everyone here that I make more money than I can spend," I continued, stepping right into her personal space, holding my feverish son close. "You told them I gave you unlimited access to my life. But what you didn't tell them is that thirty minutes ago, before I walked through that door, I filed a formal report with the Dallas County Sheriff’s Department for grand larceny, identity theft, and child endangerment."
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Linda stumbled back a step, her hand clutching her silk collar. "You... you called the police on your own mother?!"
"No," I replied, turning my back on her and helping Olivia toward the side gate leading to my truck. "I called the police on a criminal who broke into my home and abused my family. The deputies will be here in ten minutes. I suggest everyone sitting at these tables finish their lobster—because it’s the last meal my mother is ever going to host."
