Family Business

I ignored them both.

"Did you fuck him in Hawaii? Or did you give him a blow job at Table Rock Park, like the BMW guy?" I spat out at her.

Brittany, crumpled in tears. Gallant Taylor bent to help her. Through her tears she tried to tell me she was sorry. My dad walked up and put his arm over my shoulder. I stood rigid.

"Now son," my dad said, "this is a messy situation but over time I think we can all get through this, and..."

"DAD!" I said as I moved away from him, "this is far more than a messy situation. My fucking brother, your son, betrayed me in just about the worst way possible. And you and her," I nodded toward my mom, "are trying to sweep it under the rug." I added.

"Cmon Brittany, as your husband," I began, "at least for now, I think I deserve to know the details. How long have you been fucking this lazy piece of scum? Huh?" I asked.

Brittany sat silently on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. Taylor stood next to her gently patting her shoulder, proprietarily.

"And you," I pointed at Taylor, "I knew you had low morals and little conscience but this is really bad. Fucking your own brothers wife? Even for you," I spat out, "that seems pretty fucking shitty."

"All right!" My mother declared. "Enough is enough. This will all take some time. I do believe both Taylor and Brittany feel bad about everything that has transpired, but we, as a family, will get through this."

I looked at the four of them, venom in my glare, neither Brittany or Taylor would look me in the eye. My mother stood calmly as if she had everything under control, and finally my poor kindly old dad gazed back at me with utter sadness etched across his face.

"You've got until noon tomorrow to get your shit out of my house." I told Brittany.

She hesitated and said, "Tim, it's my house too."

"IT IS NOT YOUR HOUSE!" I bellowed. "I owned it long before I ever met you. I've checked with a lawyer," I hadn't, "you have no rights to my property!" I told her as I walked out the door of my parents house.

I heard my dad call my name as I left. I ignored him and churned up gravel as I sped away from my family's property.

It was a long night. There were moments when I felt abject sadness at the end of my marriage. But the emotion I felt far greater was anger. Certainly anger at Brittany, my soon to be ex wife. Anger at my parents, particularly my mom for seeming to side once again with my brother. But the anger toward Taylor was deeper. My thoughts toward him very quickly became images of violence. I knew I had to keep these emotions in check. I didn't want to end up in prison.

Out of habit the following day I went to the jobsite. What else was I supposed to do? The crew gave me a wide berth.. Even grouchy Roman seemed to treat me with more compassion than normal. Apparently the inter-company gossip had trickled down, and likely everyone knew about my crumpled marriage.

That night when I returned I saw that Brittany had been at the house and most of her stuff was gone. For some strange reason that made me sad. I wanted her shit out of here, but now that it was gone it leant a certain permanence to the situation.

I was back at the jobsite the following day. Mid morning Roman approached me with his cell phone.

"Tamara, your mother," he said, "need to talk to you."

I took the phone and listened. There was some problem with a job we had done, the client had a question about something. My mom wanted me to go to see what the issue was.

"That's your fucking salesman's job." I told her. "Get your lazy asshole son out to work with the client." I hung up.

A few minutes later Roman's phone rang again. I saw him looking at me as he spoke to whoever was on the line. Likely my mother.

The following morning Roman brought me the phone again, a different expression on his face. This time it was Taylor.

"Tim, hey," he said, acting as if all was normal, "on the Lancaster job the client was asking about how to treat the cedar. Apparently there was some...."

"Don't fucking call me again!" I said. "As far as I'm concerned you are dead to me." And then I hung up.

A half hour later Roman came to me with the phone again.

"It's Tamara, your mother. You talk to her?" He asked, hand covering the microphone.

I shook my head no. I saw him walk off, his back to me, talking to my mother for a bit. Later that day Roman came up to me.

"Sit," he motioned me to an overturned plastic five gallon bucket, and we sat.

"You need to get away from this business." He told me. "Too much family problem for you." Roman added.

I sat and thought about it and I knew he was right. There was no way I could function in the family business when I could not bring myself to communicate with most of my family.

"I agree," I told Roman, "but I don't know what to do."

He nodded and said, "I have idea." And he walked away, opening up his phone and punching in numbers.

About an hour later he came back.

"I have nephew in Beaverton who has business." Roman said. "Business like this," and he gestured with his arms to the project we were on. "He need help. I tell him about you. He want you to work with him. Run crew." He told me.

We talked through the details. Roman also had a niece who was married with two small children. They were staying with him currently, but were looking for a house to rent. It sounded like mine would be perfect for them. I told him they'd have to take care of Muffin, the cat I inherited from Hilda. He agreed.

For a moment I looked at Roman, I now saw him in a different way.. I remembered him as this cranky, temperamental, hard to like older man. I now looked at him very differently. I considered him a friend, the kind of friend that will help you when you need it most.

Later I called Roman's nephew, Domos, and we talked about the crew lead job. He basically offered me the job on the spot. I told him I'd like to meet with him first and get the lay of the land. We set a time for this Friday.

The more I thought about it, the idea of a new start appealed to me. I met Domos and his crew and my decision was solidified. Domos was a little older than me. His crews were happy and youthful. They did good work, were paid well and were extremely busy.

Domos's father Drazon, Had a small garage apartment available to rent for a good price. Since I rented my house furnished to Roman's niece, I had little to fill the cramped garage apartment. It was perfect

I just had one more thing to do. Resign from the family business.

Even though I was technically considered a project manager at our family business, DOS, I did much more. Whenever there was a difficult client Taylor could not satisfy, I was called in. On big projects I did the design and takeoffs. When there was a personnel problem it was often me that worked through that.

The family was going to miss all that, and I took a sadistic pleasure in thinking about how hard it would be on them once I was gone. Particularly Taylor and my mom.

I decided Sunday evening I would let my parents know. At first I was going to just email them a letter of resignation, but I decided, no, at least for my dad's sake I would do it in person.

I pulled up to the family home at four PM Sunday afternoon. I saw Taylor's truck parked at my parents house. Uncharacteristically, I knocked on the front door.

My dad answered.

"What are you doing knocking?" He said with a big optimistic grin on his face, arm over my shoulder.

"Timothy," my mom greeted me with delight, "oh good, I'm glad you're here. Dinner will be ready in about an hour."

My brother poked his head out through the kitchen door, I saw Brittany standing timidly behind him.

"Bro!" He said as if all were good between us.

"Sorry, but I won't be staying for dinner," I told them. "I just came here to give you this." and I handed a sheet of paper to my mom.

"It's my resignation." I explained.

"Now Timothy," my mom began.

And then she used all her persuasive skills to try to change my mind. My dad chimed in about how important I was to the business and even Taylor wandered out and tried to appeal to me.

"Look man, I'm really sorry about everything that went on with Brittany," he shrugged, "these things just happen sometimes."

"Do not talk to me or ever mention that slut's name to me." And I pointed directly at Brittany.

"Hey!" Taylor said, and gave my shoulder a shove. "Don't talk to her that way... "

Even I didn't realize the level of rage that I was barely containing, but him shoving me erupted that anger. Automatically I wheeled on Taylor and hit him square in the face. He collapsed, nose spewing blood. I'd likely broken it.

For a moment everything froze and then all at once my mom was yelling at me, Brittany went to Taylor and my old dad asked why I'd hit my own brother. I ignored them all and left.

The following day I packed up my truck and left for Beaverton.

It didn't take long to get into the rhythm of their business. Most of Domos's guys were Eastern European. They were smart, quick and skillful. I did less crew leading and more hands-on construction with these guys. We built some great projects and it was a fun, but business-like, atmosphere.

On Friday's the guys would invite me to go drink beer with them after work. Many of the crew had side jobs on Saturday, but Sunday was reserved for football. Not American football, but what we call soccer. I had played a little soccer in highschool and I liked it. They invited me to play with their club, and as good as I thought I was, these guys were much better.

My anger toward Brittany and my family was always simmering but I didn't dwell on it as much as I had at first. I had virtually no contact with my family other than answering an occasional email from my dad. I really didn't blame my dad that much, I knew my mom ran things within our family.

My brother and my mother were different. My brother's betrayal was extreme and blatant. Taylor was always so self absorbed only thinking of himself, but to go after his own brother's wife!? My mom's acknowledgement of his wrongdoing and quick sweep of the sin under the rug was almost worse.

And Brittany, she was a lot like Taylor. She wanted what she wanted and went for it. Some day perhaps I'll be strong enough to find out how and when their relationship started. I have to admit I was curious.

All these thoughts were never terribly far from the surface but with my new found friends and coworkers I dwelled on them less.

Another new relationship I had was a bit surprising. I'd become friends with Donovan. Every few weeks he'd call and we'd talk about anything except Brittany. A couple of times when he traveled to Portland we'd gotten together for a drink including one raucous time with the Eastern Europeans.

Occasionally I would get a brief email from Roman. Though he didn't quite say so, if I were to read between the lines it sounded like the business, my old family business, Designed Outdoor Spaces, was experiencing some bumps.

Time passed and weeks became months and then I realized I'd been gone more than a year. I was enjoying my time working for Domos, but I knew this lifestyle could not go on forever. Something was going to give.

One day, on the job, my mom tried to call me. I ignored it like I normally did. And then she called again, I didn't answer that call either. An hour or so later Roman called.

"Timothy," he said, "it's Frank, your papa. He have heart attack. Your father go to heaven." Roman told me.

I sat down on a pile of lumber and tried to process this news. My poor old friendly dad had died. Later I learned the details. He'd had a massive myocardial infarction, he died instantly. He'd been on a jobsite and died before they could get him to the hospital. The services were going to be this Sunday. I was sad and a big part of me felt guilty for shutting him out of my life over the past months.

I drove over Saturday and though I still would not speak to my brother I had planned a temporary truce with my mom.

The service was at my parents house on the family property. As I drove up things looked a bit rundown at the old homestead. This was surprising. My parents normally kept things up around the house and landscape.

I did hug my mom, but ignored my brother's attempt at any type of greeting. I noticed my brother did not have the jaunty, happy go lucky persona I was used to. I also observed that Brittany had regained all the weight she'd lost and it looked like perhaps a little more.

Partway through the reception Roman grabbed me by the upper arm and steered me to a quiet corner.

"You come home now." Not a question, a request.

"Roman," I said, "I'm not going to work with them again." And I nodded toward where my mom and my brother were in the other room.

"No, no, start new business." Roman said.

He went on to tell me that he could no longer work with Taylor. It sounded like too many customer complaints and other problems. Roman wanted to start his own business and he wanted me involved.

I was interested.

"Let's not discuss this here." I said to him, "We'll talk tomorrow morning."

And we did.

It took a couple of weeks to set everything up, but we did it. It was tough to say goodbye to Domos and the guys, but they all understood.

Once we got our name out in the marketplace business began to grow. We called the business Boucher Designs, partially out of respect to my father's original old business. About half the old DOS crew followed us to the new company, Boucher Designs. I got an angry voicemail, that I did not answer, from my mom. She accused me of 'stealing her employees'.

I became reacquainted with sub contractors and suppliers that I knew from my days at DOS. Everyone seemed to welcome Roman and my new business. I heard quite a few negative comments about the direction DOS was heading. Apparently there were some unhappy customers.

Since Roman's niece was still in my house I rented an apartment in Donovan's building. This gave me the opportunity to hang out with Donovan a little more often. I met his fiancé Lisa. Lisa was a beautiful dark complexioned girl from Madras. She had an athletic curvy body. From what I had observed she was extremely nice and devoted to Donovan.

Now that I was living back in Central Oregon the estrangement between me and my family increased. If that was even possible. The slight contact I did have with my mom stopped now that I was their competitor. We began to hear disparaging comments made about us without a specific source as to where they originated. We knew who was saying these things. We lost several jobs because of the negative talk.

And then the comments started to become personal. I began to hear talk that I 'couldn't keep my woman' and 'how satisfied Brittany is now'. The type of gossip that implied unsatisfactory sexual prowess.

One night I was at a popular bar downtown with a couple of friends. We were relaxed and having a good time. I noticed Taylor, Brittany and some other people in a cluster on the opposite side of the bar.

"Hey man, I'm going to take off," I told my buddies, glancing across the bar to where Taylor and Brittany were.

My strategy was to avoid them, the only outcome I could imagine in any type of confrontation would be negative.

"Tim," Cody, one of my buddies said, "finish your beer. Don't let them run you off." He told me.

I thought about it, he was right I'll leave after I was done with my drink.

That was a mistake.

They must have just noticed me. I heard the louder than necessary comments. I heard my name called. And then I heard the laughter. I took my last sip and was getting ready to leave when Taylor, Brittany and a couple of their asshole friends wandered over.

"Hey man, clear out," I heard Cody say to Taylor

"I'm just here to say hello to my little brother," he said with an emphasis on the little.

"Hello Timmy, are you doing OK?" He asked me with mock sincerity.

He knew I hated to be called Timmy.

"Fuck off Taylor." I said.

"Now, now, that's not a very polite thing to say to a family member," he continued in his mocking voice, "is it?" And he turned as if asking the question to Brittany.

"Well you know how sensitive he can be," Brittany said in a sing-song voice.

"Fuck off Brittany." I softly said to Brittany.

"HEY!" Taylor, suddenly aggressive, said to me and gave me a shove to the shoulder.

"What's poor little Timmy going to do now?" Brittany said. "You can't seem to be able to keep your woman." She added, getting whoops of laughter from their group.

I turned toward this woman that I had loved, that I had been married to. Now I just saw a stranger. Had she always been like this or had Taylor corrupted her, I wondered.

"Fuck you, you miserable cunt," angrily I lashed out at Brittany.

I then felt a crushing hammer like blow to the side of my head, and then blackness.

I came to a moment later and through the haze I saw shuffling activity. As I tried to sit up my brother gave me one last kick to my gut as he and his crowd exited to the street.

Later I heard from my friends what happened. After I had called Brittany a cunt Taylor had cold cocked me. My buddies jumped in to protect me which turned into a thirty second barroom brawl. No one but I noticed the cheap shot kick from Taylor as the whole fight was winding down.

Any slight thread of a chance our family would ever unite was severed as far as I was concerned. Taylor was the enemy. Brittany too. I hated Taylor. No, it wasn't just dislike, I truly hated him. He betrayed his own brother in the worst possible way. And further he exhibited no actions of remorse or repentance.

Yes I hated him and wished him great harm. This anger would flicker occasionally, but mostly I tried to keep the negative thoughts down and focus on the positive things, like our business.

Our business continued and despite the negative rumors the business grew. From what I heard, and I never asked, DOS was having problems. In fact their shortcomings helped our growth.

Several weeks later, out of the blue, I got a call from Carlton Eldridge, the attorney we had done some work for when I was with the family business. I'd spent some time with Eldridge after work a few times and enjoyed his company..

"Tim," he said, "I guess I didn't realize you were no longer working with your family."

"No, a few months ago I went out on my own." I told him.

"Huh," he said. "I wish I'd known that."

"I decided to do my own thing." I added "it seemed like the right move at the time."

"Well," Carlton said, "I have a bit of a problem that I wonder if you could help me with."

"Okay, I will if I can," I said, "what's going on?"

Carlton told me he sold the house that I had worked on and built a new beautiful home on Timber Butte. I knew this area of upscale homes. The ones built on the ridge had sweeping western views of Mount Bachelor and the Three Sisters mountains.

"We hired DOS to build our deck. The company did such a good job for us last time. It's cantilevered over the ridge and will have spectacular sight lines to the Cascades." He said. "The problem is I'm beginning to think this project is over their head. I'm not even sure the structure is safe." He added.

I envisioned the type of structure he described. We had done these types of big, off the ground projects, but it was always very slow and steady. We all tied off for safety when working at this height. Roman and I were always both on site for this kind of challenging construction.

I had a difficult time imagining the present day DOS staff having the expertise to build something like this.

"What is it Carlton you'd like me to do?" I said.

He asked me if I would come by, take a look at the work that has been done so far and give my opinion.