Page 17 of Two Wrongs

Charlie nods. He said it was probably a mistake, but we both know he doesn’t believe that. “In that case, you should check the bills that we sent out.”

He sets a stack of letters in front of me. “Maybe compare our records to some of these. I have been meaning to do it myself, but I wasn’t really sure how to go about it.”

This brings out a laugh from me. “It’s a computer Charlie, you really should learn how to use one.”

He waves me off. “It’s a fad. It’ll be gone in no time.”

“You said that when I sent you to school to learn the new diagnostic tools too,” I remind him.

“I’m old and set in my ways. I’m okay not being on the net, and I don’t think any of the chat rooms are missing anything with me not being in there,” he grumbles.

“Your lack of knowledge about modern technology frightens and fascinates me,” I comment.

He doesn’t reply. Not verbally at least. He flips me the bird on his way out of my office.

I take a deep breath and open the first envelope. Twenty minutes later I’ve gone through a stack of invoices, clearly our header, and I recall the jobs and customers these invoices came from, but the markup is higher than what is listed in our accounting software. The discrepancies are alarming, and combined with the fact the wrong part numbers, manufacturers and costs are listed I can only come to one conclusion. Someone is skimming off the profits, and that someone can only be my son.

There’s an ache in my chest as that realization sets in. Part of me wonders if this is how Wren felt when she saw him fucking in the back seat of his car. The betrayal is enormous.

Charlie’s urging for me to go out and find a distraction, take on a new purpose. I am not going to go in order to forget Wren though, I’m going to try to forget that my son has been screwing me over for months.

* * *

Charlie knockson my office door around quitting time. “Hey bossman, wrap it up. Let’s get some beers in you, and you inside a woman.”

“You’re creepily invested in my sex life, you know that right?”

“Move your ass. Sitting there staring at that computer isn’t going to change anything. You need to regroup so you can figure out what to do next.”

I take a deep breath in through my nose. “I want to know why. If he needed money I would have helped him.”

Charlie looks like he’s aged in the last few hours. We’ve been best friends since middle school. He was my best man when Melinda and I got married, and helped me take care of Liam in the days right after she left. I know he loves Liam almost as much as I do, and this betrayal cuts him too.

“Liam is the only one who can answer that question, and he hasn’t been in all day. There’s nothing you can do about it right now, and you can’t undo what he’s already done. So, grab your shit and let’s get out of here.”

I reach for my keys, and he snatches them away from me. “You know what, let’s have the kid drive it to your house. He only lives a few blocks away.”

Following him out into the shop, he tosses my truck keys to Julio. “We’re shutting down for the day. Do me a favor and take Griff’s truck to his house. Leave the keys in the mailbox.”

We decide to walk the couple blocks down to Donovan’s. I pause before we go in. “Maybe this is a bad idea.” If the goal is to avoid Wren, going to where she works is not how to do that.

He gives me the side eye. “Do I look like an amateur? I called Donovan. She’s got the night off.”

“I didn’t mean—“

He holds up his hand stopping me. “Let’s not lie to each other. You’ve got some kind of sick fascination with your daughter-in-law. If she was just some other young woman I’d tell you to bang it out of your system, but you can’t do that. You need to shove that shit deep down with the rest of your feelings and embrace the denial you have mastered since Melinda left.”

The bar is crawling with people when we enter. The town never really recovered after the last recession, and there aren’t many things to do in Harriston on a Saturday night. There is a dollar theater, a bowling alley, and Donovan’s. There’s also The Garden Club, but honestly I don’t know how they stay in business. Most of the people in town don’t have the money for ten dollar cocktails and thirty dollar dinners.

The vibe at Donovan’s fits much better with most of the people in Harriston. There’s a jukebox in the corner that is loaded with classic rock up through the nineties grunge hits. Both pool tables have a line waiting to use them, and the waitresses flit around in tight uniforms. My teeth clench remembering Wren in those jeans she had on seemed to be painted on and ripped practically up to her pussy.

“I need a drink,” I growl.

“I’ll grab a pitcher,” Charlie offers.

We settle in the corner, and one pitcher becomes two, and then three. Soon we’re joined by a couple of women. They’re in their mid thirties, much more age appropriate, and I couldn’t be less interested. Charlie is close to sealing the deal with one of them, so I stay long past when I’m ready to go home to entertain her friend.

I let Brandi hang on me. She leans forward to show off her rack and the lacy edge of her bra. When my eyes dip down, because of course they’re drawn to tits, she slowly traces the edge with her finger. I contemplate taking her home. I know she wants to. There’s nothing wrong with two consenting adults enjoying each other. I let the evening play out in my head.

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