Chapter 4 - The House of Cards Collapses
It took exactly three days for the reality to hit Robert and Helen.
It started on a Wednesday morning when Robert tried to use the credit card Thomas had provided him to pay for a $200 round of golf with his country club friends. The card was declined. Enraged, Robert tried calling Thomas, only to discover his number was disconnected.
Then, the mail arrived.
Helen was drinking her morning coffee when she opened the thick manila envelope delivered by certified mail. Inside was a formal thirty-day notice to vacate the premises, signed by Sarah Jenkins’s law firm. Attached were documents detailing the immediate cessation of all financial support, vehicle leases, and utility payments.
According to Aunt Martha—who immediately called Thomas’s restaurant to gossip, not realizing Thomas had instructed his staff to screen all calls—Helen had fainted dramatically onto the living room rug.
By Friday afternoon, desperation replaced shock.
Thomas was in the kitchen of his flagship diner, going over inventory, when his manager, Luis, pushed through the swinging doors, looking alarmed. "Boss. Your parents are out front. They’re screaming at the hostesses and demanding to see you. They’re making a huge scene. Do you want me to call the cops?"
"No," Thomas said, taking off his apron. "I'll handle it."
He walked out into the dining room. The lunch rush was in full swing, but the clatter of silverware had died down. Every customer was staring at the entrance, where Robert was red-faced, pointing a finger at a terrified nineteen-year-old hostess.
"I am his father!" Robert bellowed. "You go get him right now, or I'll have your job!"
"You won't have anyone's job, Robert," Thomas said loudly, stepping into the center of the room.
Helen pushed past her husband, tears streaming down her face. "Thomas! Thank God. Son, there’s been a terrible mistake! We got these awful legal letters—some scammer lawyer is trying to kick us out of our home! And the bank froze our cards!"
"There’s no mistake, Helen," Thomas said coldly, refusing to call them Mom and Dad. "I canceled the cards. I hired the lawyer. You have twenty-seven days left to pack your things."
"You can't do this!" Robert screamed, stepping toward Thomas with his fists clenched. "We gave you life! We raised you! You owe us!"
"I owed you respect, and I gave it to you for thirty-five years," Thomas replied, not backing up an inch. "You repaid me by turning my children into your slaves for a photo-op. The debt is settled. The bank is closed."
"You selfish, arrogant little boy!" Helen screeched, looking around at the silent restaurant patrons, hoping to garner sympathy. "Look at him, everyone! A millionaire throwing his elderly parents out on the street! What kind of monster does that?"
Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. He held it up.
"Do you know what this is?" Thomas asked. "It’s the security footage from the garden venue. It shows exactly how you treated my kids. It shows you, Helen, slapping the back of Samuel’s head when he dropped a napkin. It shows you, Robert, laughing while your teenage nephews mocked a six-year-old scrubbing your tables."
Helen’s jaw dropped. The color completely drained from her face.
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"I haven't posted it," Thomas said softly, but the threat was razor-sharp. "But if you don't walk out of my restaurant right now, and if you ever come near my business or my children again, I will post it to every social media platform, every church group, and every country club mailing list in Denver. I will make sure everyone in this city knows exactly who you are."
Robert’s fists uncurled. For the first time in his life, the old bully looked truly afraid. Without a word, he grabbed Helen’s arm and practically dragged her out the front door.
