“Didn’t he have a scholarship?”
“Yes, he does.” he nodded again. “But it’s not a full ride. His tuition is $27,000, the scholarship pays about thirty percent of that. We need to pay within the next eighteen days, or he’ll have to sit out this next semester.” he concluded, sounding extremely exhausted.
Something about this explanation didn’t sit right with me, but I decided to just listen for now.
“So ... the hospital bill is paid?” He nodded. “Then the tuition is ... what? $19,000 after the scholarship?” He nodded again. “What are you gonna do about Christmas?”
“I have no fucking idea.” he shook his head.
“Damn.” I concluded.
“Yup. Damn, indeed.” he concurred with another sigh.
“Do the others know? Is that the ‘proposition’ Danielle just talked about?”
“No. Claire knows, of course, but only her. Danny wants to talk about the shitshow with the social worker your grandparents put us in.”
“Oh, shit. I almost forgot about that!”
“Lucky you!” he mirthlessly chuckled.
“Why did they call them, though!? I don’t get it!”
“Neither do we, Son. Danny told them it wouldn’t end well. That it would even backfire. But they ... knew better, I guess.”
Both of us just shook our heads. Without warning, I realized that this was the first meaningful conversation I had with my father in years. We had a problem, and now discussed it on equal grounds. This was almost like we were having an actual father-son-moment, and I didn’t hate it! Maybe, if we were able to be honest with each other going forward, and this newfound consideration for me proved genuine, there was hope for us.
However, as I thought about how we got to that point, and what had led to this newest revelation, I suddenly understood what part of his earlier explanation rubbed me the wrong way, and it was in equal parts disturbing and pissing me off.
“When exactly was that investment?” I asked.
“February, why?”
Yeah. I decided it would be warranted if I no longer tried to not be an asshole about it.
“So ... help me understand this. You pledged a ‘sizable part’ of your savings in February. Then Claire loses her job sometime in March. Logan started college in August, though. That’s almost half a year. More than enough time to tell him to get a job and apply for federal grants, isn’t it?”
“Son, we...”
“I mean, it can’t be that bad. I see his $25,000 Mustang is still parked right there, which you bought for him after Claire lost her job! That would be more than what you need for his tuition. I’m not a car guy, but how much mileage could that thing possibly have by now, that you couldn’t give it back?”
“We’re leasing it, and I can’t tell him to give up his car!”
“But you CAN take your daughter’s birthday gifts away!?” I returned, starting to get louder. “Do you know what a student loan is, Aaron?”
“Tim! Please! Do you think it’s easy for me to admit this!? I don’t want my son to know we have problems! Especially since it’s his old man who screwed up! And he can’t just pause a semester without losing his scholarship. We’d have to pay even more when he eventually goes back to school!”
I decided not to comment on him saying ‘Son’ instead of ‘Sons’.
“So, you rather steal from your other children than to tell him to switch to the local community college instead? As long as the favorite child looks up to you, what the others think doesn’t matter, I take it?”
“Tim, I know this isn’t fair to you or Ava, but this is his education! This college degree is important for his entire future! I can make the money up to you two once we catch a break!” he pleaded.
“Are you now? Then, what’s your plan going forward, Aaron? Please, tell me how you’re planning on reducing your spending so much you suddenly save up three and a half thousand dollars EVERY month, so you can pay his next tuition. Because, what about the six months after that, when it’s time for Ava to go to college as well? How do you even intend to pay your mortgage next month, after you gave everything you had for Logan’s future at UT Austin, despite employers not giving a shit about which college he went to anymore!?”
He didn’t answer, but the sudden nervous shift in his facial expression and body language told me exactly what he had thought about.
“You were just going to use my savings, weren’t you?” I asked, and he wordlessly confirmed my suspicion. So much to the possibility of him finally showing some genuine consideration for me. “Fucking hell! You know, for someone who enjoyed belittling the way I earned that money for as long as I’ve been working this job, you sure don’t have a problem using it! I actually thought you just kept the money I dropped, because you knew how much I stole from the Bookie. I’d understand that. You could rightly assume I wouldn’t miss a few thousand from THAT pile of cash. But then I would’ve expected you to ask for some more of that cash instead of taking it from my bank account without asking and antagonizing me even more!”
When he answered, he looked just as defeated as when he admitted to being broke.
“When you told us how much money you took, I immediately started thinking about how we could use it. Your grandfather joined right in, but John set our heads straight. He told us about all the problems that would come with that money. Then he called Carter to ask for specifics of what happened. So, we know he told you to burn it because it would’ve been more trouble than it’s worth. I just figured you at least kept enough to make up for what you lost.”
The day my exhausted and drunken brain revealed the sum of cash I had taken, I never even considered that it could be problematic to let them know about it. The bookie was gone, the family would have nothing to gain by ratting me out to the former owners, and they had no way to access it without my say so. That was quickly turned around when I started the renovations of my apartment, and feared they would call the cops on me. Bill was obviously a lot smarter than I was! Thanks to him, they didn’t know I still had the money! I made a mental note to thank him as I leaned back in my seat, closed my eyes, and tried to figure out how to salvage this.
I had my apartment fully furnished and renovated, so that was taken care of. The certifications I wanted to get would not come cheap, though. The basic entry-level certifications were ‘just’ a few hundred dollars per exam, but that was without tutoring or mandatory classes. The advanced and specialized ones were a lot more pricey. The whole process would quickly accumulate to a five-figure sum.
If the full amount Aaron needed came from my bank account, it would either be massively overdrawn or simply closed. I needed that account to get paid and pay my bills! What choice did I have, though? He already admitted that he had planned on simply taking the money without even asking, and I had to admit that his argument about Logan’s scholarship made sense. Though, I still didn’t understand how they simply sent him off AFTER realizing that they wouldn’t have enough money to keep him there. The only explanation I could come up with was that they were either in denial, or planning to use my savings from the beginning.
No, that money in my bank account would be gone. All I could do now was to try and save the account from being closed. Worst case scenario, even if Claire wouldn’t find a job before Logan’s next tuition was due, I would be eighteen before the next winter semester had to be paid. As soon as I turned eighteen, their names would be removed from my account! I would see to that!
Or, maybe, I should just let Aaron do it. The family lawyer told me to not petition the court for emancipation unless I had a damn good reason for why it was absolutely necessary. If my parents took my money and put me in debt with the bank, that would certainly be an argument in my favor. But then again, I only had less than a year before I turned eighteen anyway. I’d rather put up with their crap for another few months, than to start adulthood completely broke and in debt. One thing was clear now: I really needed to find a way to make that money in my bedroom closet available.