“Can I sell the house?”
“If you do, the proceeds will go into the trust for Vinny.”
That was doable.At least I wasn't obligated to stay in the outdated farmhouse that sat on a plot of land in the middle of nowhere.I had no loyalty to the house.Dad purchased it after I left for college to take care of his new family, which he made clear didn’t include me.
“That’s a fine piece of land your father owned.You might want to hold onto it.There are a few more things.There’s the matter of the veterinary clinic your father partially owned.”
“What do you meanpartiallyowned?”He started the clinic in Vision twenty-something years ago and had worked full-time ever since.Out here, somewhere between North Carolina's coast and the mountains, there was nothing but farmland and people trying to avoid poverty.I’d spent over half my life wishing to escape this town where everyone knew everyone else’s business.In Vision, the expectation was you attended either the Methodist or Baptist church on Sunday unless you were dying.You always bought your pumpkins and flowers at Finn’s Feed store.You brought a kickass home-baked item to both the spring and fall festivals in the park to be sold for charity, which was usually the local animal shelter or Mrs.Gibson’s Youth Leadership group out of the Baptist church.There was a lot of controversy over whether the place to grocery shop was the Piggly Wiggly or Food Lion, and that wasnota discussion to start when at the only gas station in town which doubled as a diner.That place served as a social hangout for those out of work, not at work, or generally bored during the day.
Before our bitter war, everyone thought Josh Hurst would pop the marriage question to me right after high school.No one asked me if I wanted to get married so young.It was assumed.We’d dated most of senior year until the Milly kiss incident.Dad didn’t say anything to counter the town's expectations of an impending engagement, even after we broke up.And by “town’s expectations”, I meant the expectations of the senior congregation at the Baptist church, which included Josh's extended family.What Dad's clients thought of him was far more important to him than my career plans or dreams.He hadn’t cared about my broken heart.All I got from him was bitter criticism for kicking Josh out of my life.
Jerks, both of them.
Maybe Josh had moved away.Doubtful, but it sure would be nice.My humiliation of him on that championship game day had made me a legend here in Vision.It was best for both of us if we never crossed paths again.
Tom droned on about legal crap until I heard, “He sold half the clinic to Josh Hurst last year.That’s the debt I referred to earlier.”
I choked on...I don't even know what, maybe my own spit.“How could he sell his clinic toJosh?”I coughed several times, but it did nothing to soothe the burn from swallowing wrong the first time.“You have to be a veterinarian to own a clinic in this state, right?”
“Dr.Hurst is a veterinarian.He went local to State, unlike you, who went up north.”
What level of hell had I entered?
I resented the judgment in Tom’s tone.Virginia was hardly “up north,” but around here, going anywhere except North Carolina State was considered an offensive snub, especially for veterinary school.
“He’s a veterinarian?”I squeaked out.How had I not known this?The Josh I remembered sucked at school and had little interest in science.Something must have changed.
Why hadn't Dad said something?
Granted, we hadn’t spoken much since I left.I had tried.He hadn’t.
Dad treated my decision to attend college and vet school out of state as a personal betrayal, something he couldn’t quite forgive.But I remained certain his bitterness had less to do with geography and everything to do with Josh and me ending things.He’d always cared more about Josh than he did about me.Obviously, if he had taken him on as a partner.
The leather creaked as Tom shifted in his chair.“The ownership part is complicated.Your father soldallshares of the clinic to Josh a year ago to settle his debts and pay off his mortgage.They arranged for him to buy back his half over the next few years.Each year he was to pay a percentage of his salary toward buying back his part of the clinic.I guess he figured he could mentor Dr.Hurst and have a solid retirement plan.”He leaned forward and took a sip of water from a whiskey glass—at least I thought it was water.“Since you showed no interest in returning home, he had to make plans.”
Dad never asked me to be the prodigal child, to take over the family business.He never spoke to me after I left for college unless I called him, usually once a year on Christmas.I gritted my teeth and spoke through them.“Why is this my problem?”
“He owes Josh several more years of payments.”
“That was an agreement between the two of them, not me.”During a Christmas call a few years ago, Dad had mentioned—almost offhand—that he’d hired some new grad from State.I couldn’t remember a single detail about this mystery vet, which I later realized was intentional.
Dad remarried when I started college.I never came back after the wedding.Watching how fast he moved on after Mom died of cancer when I was still in high school had hurt enough.What hurt more was how completely he’d moved on from me.He never checked in.Not once.Not during undergrad, not through vet school.No emails.No texts.Not even a postcard.
I made the effort to do an annual holiday call.Without it, we never would have spoken.
Tom said, “Your father put you as the second guarantor on the loan.”
“What?”I think I yelled it.“I didn’t sign anything.”
“Looks like your signature here.”He held up a poor-quality copy of a paper full of legalese.“He owed...well, now you owe Dr.Hurst $155,000 and some change.”
Damn you, Dad, for screwing me over.“He forged it.That can’t be legally binding.”
He compared the signature to another page I’d signed a few minutes ago.“Sure looks like your signature.Are you sure you didn’t forget you signed it?”
“How would I forget signing away half of my father’s veterinary practice and making myself a responsible party for the debt?”
“You’ll have to take it to court and argue your case in front of a judge.I’m not a contract attorney, but you can talk to Ben Tilghman up the street.He’s better at this sort of stuff.Of course, he probably wrote the buyout contract to begin with.”
