Chapter 9 - The First Night Without Fear)
That night, Noah slept in Richard's room.
Not because Richard suggested it.
Because Noah refused to let go of his coat.
Martha had given the boy warm pajamas and thick socks.
The shearling coat was no longer necessary.
Noah insisted anyway.
He dragged it onto the large bed and curled inside it like an animal making a nest.
Richard sat in a chair beside the window.
The lodge had gone quiet.
Mark and Claudia had left after midnight.
They were staying at a hotel in town.
Rachel had taken copies of the medical photographs.
Daniel had taken the trust files.
Evan had left instructions for Noah's hands.
The birthday dinner had been canceled.
Seventy years of Richard Bellacorte's life had apparently led to a birthday spent staring at a four year old who was afraid to sleep.
He preferred it to every party he had ever attended.
Noah moved beneath the coat.
"Grandpa?"
"I'm here."
"You sleeping?"
"Not yet."
"Why?"
Richard almost smiled.
"Old people don't sleep."
Noah thought about that.
"Martha sleeps."
"Martha isn't old."
"She says she is."
"Don't tell her I said that."
A small smile appeared.
Then disappeared.
Noah touched the wooden airplane beside his pillow.
The cracked wing had been temporarily secured with tape.
"Are Mom and Dad mad?"
Richard considered his answer.
"They're upset."
"At me?"
"No."
"At you?"
"Probably."
Noah pulled the coat closer.
"Because you hit Dad?"
Richard exhaled.
"Partly."
"Was that bad?"
Richard did not want to lie.
"Hitting people is serious."
"But he was taking me."
"Yes."
"Would you do it again?"
Richard looked at him.
"If I needed to keep you safe, I'd stop him again."
Noah studied his grandfather.
Richard added:
"But I don't want you thinking being strong means hurting someone."
Noah frowned.
"Dad says people only listen when you're stronger."
The words landed heavily.
Richard leaned forward.
"Your dad is wrong."
"You're stronger than Dad."
"Physically? Maybe."
"You knocked him down."
"Yes."
Noah's eyes widened slightly.
Richard almost regretted the whole conversation.
Then Noah asked:
"Are you scared of anybody?"
Richard leaned back.
"Yes."
Noah seemed surprised.
"Who?"
"Tonight?"
"Yeah."
"I'm scared of you."
Noah blinked.
"Me?"
"I'm scared I didn't notice what was happening to you soon enough."
Noah became quiet.
Richard continued.
"I'm scared I won't know the right things to say."
"You say lots of things."
Richard smiled faintly.
"I'm scared I taught your father some terrible lessons when he was a boy."
Noah looked confused.
"Did you put Dad outside?"
Richard closed his eyes for a moment.
"No."
"In the dark room?"
"No."
"What did you do?"
Richard searched through memories he did not enjoy.
"I yelled too much."
Noah waited.
"I expected him to be perfect."
"Nobody's perfect."
Richard looked at him.
"No."
The boy sounded wiser than most of Richard's former executives.
"I embarrassed him when he failed."
"Why?"
"Because I thought it would make him try harder."
"Did it?"
Richard looked toward the fire.
"Yes."
Noah waited.
Richard added:
"And it made him afraid of failing."
"Like me?"
The question broke something open.
Richard looked back.
"Maybe."
Noah touched the airplane.
"Dad gets really mad when I make mistakes."
Richard moved from the chair to the edge of the bed.
"Listen to me."
Noah looked up.
"Everybody makes mistakes."
"Even you?"
"Especially me."
"Grandpa."
"Yes?"
"Did you make Dad mean?"
Richard did not answer immediately.
"Maybe I helped teach him that being hard was more important than being kind."
Noah watched him.
"But your father is responsible for what he does now."
"Could he stop?"
"Yes."
"Will he?"
Richard's voice softened.
"I don't know."
Noah turned the airplane.
"I don't want him to be mad forever."
Richard felt the temptation to tell the boy his parents were monsters.
He resisted.
Noah did not need hatred.
He needed truth.
"You can love somebody and still need to be safe from them."
Noah's eyes filled.
"I love Mom."
"I know."
"Sometimes she's nice."
"I believe you."
"She makes pancakes."
Richard nodded.
"People can do kind things and harmful things. One doesn't erase the other."
Noah sniffed.
"Can I stay here tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"The next day?"
"Yes."
"For lots of days?"
"As many as the people helping us say you can."
Noah frowned.
"Why can't you decide?"
"Because there are rules for grown ups too."
That seemed to comfort him.
"Good."
Richard smiled.
"Good?"
"Dad says rules matter."
"They do."
Noah considered.
"Then he has to follow them too."
Richard looked at him.
"Yes."
Noah pulled the coat under his chin.
"Okay."
Within minutes, he was asleep.
Richard remained beside him.
At three thirteen in the morning, his phone vibrated.
Daniel.
Richard answered quietly.
"What happened?"
"I found something."
"What?"
"There was another account."
Richard stood and moved toward the window.
"What other account?"
"Mark opened a line of credit using Noah's trust assets as collateral."
Richard's hand tightened around the phone.
"How much?"
"Five million."
Richard stared into the snow.
"Was it drawn?"
"Partly."
"For what?"
"That's the problem."
Richard waited.
Daniel continued.
"The money went into Bellacorte Western Operations."
Richard closed his eyes.
Mark had not only stolen from his son.
He had used Noah's future to conceal problems inside the family company.
"How bad is Western?"
"Potentially insolvent."
Richard looked back at the sleeping child.
Daniel lowered his voice.
"And Richard?"
"What?"
"Mark filed something an hour ago."
"What?"
"An emergency petition challenging your fitness as Noah's placement."
Richard's expression hardened.
"On what grounds?"
"Age. Temper. History of violence."
Richard looked at his knuckles.
"The punch."
"Yes."
Richard almost laughed.
"He tried to take Noah out of my arms."
"I know."
"What else?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Mark is alleging that you abused him as a child."
Richard went silent.
That accusation was different.
Not because it was entirely true.
Not because it was entirely false.
Because somewhere inside the exaggeration lay enough of Richard's past to make him afraid.
"Richard?"
"I'm here."
"We'll fight it."
Richard looked at Noah again.
"No."
Daniel paused.
"No?"
"We'll tell the truth."
"Meaning?"
"Every ugly part."
"Richard, be careful."
"I spent too many years teaching this family to protect appearances."
His voice lowered.
"That ends now."
On the bed, Noah shifted.
The tiny airplane slipped from his hand.
Richard caught it before it hit the floor.
He looked at the crooked R.
Tomorrow, Mark intended to use Richard's past against him.
Richard could deny it.
Minimize it.
Hide it.
May you like
Or he could do the one thing the Bellacorte men had almost never done.
Tell the truth first.
