Monthly Archives: May 2019

Parental Deception; chapter ten, part three

Chapter Ten; Part Three

I take a deep breath and dive back into the dossier that Yuri has provided me. It gives more details about TAP, including that investors poured close to $50 million dollars into it. I blink at the number. I was expecting it to be a few million or maybe ten at the most. It’s more than I thought it would be, even though it’s still peanuts to most venture capitalists. There’s an interview with Richard Liang in which he threatens to kill George, but I can’t tell if he really means it or if he’s just letting off steam. Scott Huang takes a more legalistic approach by threatening to sue George. Both of these statements came after George went back to San Francisco. I find out that they managed to put a lien on George’s assets. My mouth drops because that’s not easy to do, and I wonder if they have a judge in their pockets. Things were pretty grim for George for the next year. I have to wonder how he kept Rowena in the dark about this, or maybe she knew. Just because she didn’t tell me about it doesn’t mean she wasn’t in on it. From her point of view, why would she tell me? I’m going to have to call her again, which is the last thing I want to do. On impulse, I start another post.

I don’t understand wanting to be kept in the dark in a relationship. Let me explain. I’m not a very confrontational person, but if I’m going to be with someone, I have to trust them. If I don’t, then I’m only half present in the relationship, if even that. I know everyone has secrets, and it’s healthy to keep some things to yourself. However, I don’t understand not wanting to know something major about your partner. Take, for example, a man who has two families in different states. Even if he is a master at dissimulating, you have to know on some base level if you’re one of the wives, right? Even if he has a job that allows him to travel freely around the country, there has to be a little voice in the back of your mind that tells you something is wrong. Nobody can keep up that façade perfectly for a lifetime. Whether it’s a slip on the kid’s birthday or calling you by the wrong name, I firmly believe there are tells, even if you choose to ignore them.

I had an affair with a married man when I was in my mid-thirties and he was in his forties. We saw each other once a week, which was all I wanted from him. It was light and fun, and we were together for over a year. During that time, he would call me while he was in the car with his wife sleeping and his kids watching cartoons on their tablets or whatever we watched videos on in those days. We consistently went over his minutes for the month, and since his wife managed their money, he had to explain it to her. Personally, if the person I was in a monogamous relationship with talked over thirty hours a month on the phone with someone who wasn’t me, I’d be a tad suspicious. In addition, we met on the Wednesday nights every week, and he told his wife he was going bowling with the guys. You mean to tell me she didn’t ask any of ‘the guys’ ever about those bowling nights?

I know it’s common, and I know it’s more a matter of denial than actual not knowing. It’s still sad to me that so many people settle in their romantic relationships to the point where they’ll take crumbs rather than expect a whole cake.

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General Housekeeping

I am having laptop issues and cannot access my fiction folder. Until I resolve that, I can’t post any fiction. Hopefully, I will get this all figured out this week, but until then, here’s a Missy Elliott video to get your blood pumping.

Parental Deception; chapter ten, part two

Chapter Ten; Part Two

“Did you know?” I demand, my voice hard.

“Excuse me, what?” Understandably, Mrs. Tsai is confused. “Who is this?”

“Megan Liang,” I say through gritted teeth. “Did you know that your husband bilked my sisters and me out of our inheritance?”

“What are you saying? I don’t understand.” There’s fear in Mrs. Tsai’s voice, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s hiding something or because I’m ranting like a crazy woman. I take a few slow and smooth breaths so I don’t verbally slaughter her. I’m mad at her husband, who is now dead. I shouldn’t take it out on her.

“Your husband was the executor of my father’s will,” I say, my voice dangerously calm.

“Yes, I know. He said Henry had given all the money to us.” There is nothing but sincerity in Mrs. Tsai’s voice, and I’m sorry I’m going to have to be the bearer of bad news.

“Did you see any of that money?” I ask. I know it’s a leading question, but I need to find out what she knows.

“No. George said wills take time. Probate and all that.” It’s clear she knows nothing and that her husband had been deceiving her as well. Suddenly, I wonder if I should tell her what I know because chances are, the will is in his house. I doubt he even submitted it to probate. I’m assuming there has to be a copy in legal land somewhere, but I’m not sure. If I tell Mrs. Tsai, she might destroy the will. Then again, Mr. Tsai probably already has. I need to call a lawyer and stat. First, though, I confront Mrs. Tsai.

“Your husband lied. My father did not leave his money to you—he left it to my sisters and me. I have proof,” I say, hoping she won’t ask me what proof and how I got it. “I’m assuming you didn’t know about this.”

“No! Are you saying George lied to me? He wouldn’t do that.” I stay silent, though it’s clear to me that her husband has lied to her about many things.

“Your husband also was the one stealing money from his partners, not the other way around.” I feel as if I’m pummeling her with the information, but I have run out of patience at this point. I’m furious that her husband was a piece of shit who decided to intrude upon my life. I really wish I hadn’t heard of him, but there’s nothing I can do about that.

“I can’t deal with this.” Click. She hung up on me! I stare at my phone in shock. I mean, it’s not that surprising given the barrage of information I’d given her, but it’s very un-Taiwanese behavior, especially for an elder. Then again, she’s lived in San Francisco for most if not all her life, so she’s more American than Taiwanese. I stifle my impulse to call her back because it won’t do any good. Instead, I read about the will again, and I get angry all over again. I call Viv and wait impatiently for her to answer. I know she’ll still be awake, whereas Jasmine has probably been asleep since a half hour after we returned home.

“What’s up, Meg? I was just about to start a piece.” Viv’s voice is distracted, and I know I have five minutes at best to keep her attention.

“I found out more information about our father,” I say, stepping outside to smoke. “He left all his money to us in his will.”

“His will,” Viv repeats, her voice uninterested. Then a few seconds later, “His will???”

“Yes. He made that man his executor, but Mr. Tsai decided not to fulfill his duties.” There is bitterness in my voice, and I don’t attempt to hide it. My rage needs to go somewhere, and I know Viv can handle it.

“You can do that?” Viv is as astounded as I was before I Googled the issue at hand. The number of people who’ve bilked their so-called loved ones out of the family fortune has disheartened me. I know families can be shitty to each other, but it’s depressing, nonetheless.

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Parental Deception; chapter ten, part one

Chapter Ten; Part One

“Viv! It’s good to see you again.” I throw my arms around my sister and hug her tight. She’s wearing a slinky little black dress with her hair in artful waves, and she looks stunning.

“You, too, Meg.” Viv holds me at arm’s length and studies my dress. As I’m wearing a short red dress that barely hides my tits and ass, I’m confident that I’ll meet her standards. She believes in flaunting what the good lord gave you, and I’m inclined to agree with her. “I’ve made reservations at Haute Dish. Is that OK with you?”

“It’s fine,” I say, a distinct lack of enthusiasm in my voice. I’m not a big fan of deconstructed food, and I don’t want puree in the middle of my tater tots. Still. Viv is the guest, so she gets to choose. “Where are Jasmine and Bob?”

“Bob is taking a nap. Jasmine is getting ready. She’s coming with us.” Viv fusses with her purse before bringing out a warm red lipstick and applying it.

“What?!” My mouth drops open in surprise. I hadn’t even invited Jasmine because I was so sure she wouldn’t come with us.

“She wanted us girls to go out once before I go back home,” Viv says, finishing with her lipstick. She puts it back in her purse and snaps the purse shut.

“I’m glad. It’ll be fun.” I have my reservations because we had such a different reaction to Mr. Tsai, but it’ll be great to have the three of us together again.

“Hi, Megan! You look great.” Jasmine hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. Unlike Viv and me in our monochromatic dresses, she’s wearing a pink floral print that suits her. Her dress reaches her knees, and she’s covered up her own impressive bosom.

“So do you, Jasmine,” I say as I pull back. “Let’s face it. We are three fine-looking ladies!” We link arms and go outside. Since I’m not in the mood to drink tonight, I’m driving. Neither of my sisters drink much, either, but they’re not against a glass of wine every now and again.

We chat about our lives on our way to Haute Dish. I don’t know about them, but I need a break from all the heaviness that has dominated my life in the past few months. We laugh and giggle, and I can feel my spirits lifting. When we reach the restaurant, I look over the menu. The Beet X 5 is calling to me as an appetizer, and I decide on the Quail in a Can for my dinner. Once we’ve ordered, Jasmine brings up the subject we’ve all been avoiding—that man.

“What do you girls think about the news?” She asks, lifting her glass of wine to her lips. “I can’t believe he was lying about being our father.”

“I can,” I say bluntly. “I never really thought he was our father.”

“So you’re glad to be proven right?” Jasmine asks, her voice rising a bit.

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Parental Deception; chapter nine, part three

Chapter Nine; Part Three

“Mrrrrrreow!” Onyx leaps into the air, and I catch her effortlessly. I cradle her to my chest and nuzzle her fur. She purrs happily, waving her front paws in the air. Jet dances around me, excited that his human is home. He bats at my legs, careful to keep his claws retracted. I ruffle the fur on his head, and he snuffles happily as if he’s a dog. I carry Onyx into the kitchen as she continues to fling her paws about. She’s being so goofy, I can’t help but laugh. Jet is literally nipping at my heels, and I admonish him to move away so I don’t step on him. He doesn’t listen, of course, because he’s a cat, and I use my empty stepping so I don’t accidentally squish him. I pull out the bag of Temptations and give them each four. I’m trying to curb their snacking, but I admit my heart’s not in it. I heat up some of the Thanksgiving leftovers, including a piece of the sweet potato pie. I grab a Diet Coke so when everything is ready, I can take my booty to the living room. As I’m eating, I start a new post about lies and deceptions. I don’t want to write specifically about George Tsai, but his deception galls me.

The sign of a good con man is that he knows intuitively his marks’ weaknesses. It’s the one ‘compliment’ I can give the president-elect—he has an uncanny knack for giving the people what they want. Not all people, of course, but enough to be elected—but that’s not the post I want to write, so I’m going to put it aside for now with great difficulty.

Recently, I had a man come into y life who purported to be someone I used to know. I didn’t quite believe him, but, I wanted to so very much.

My phone rings, startling me. I’m not expecting a call, but when I glance at the screen, I recognize the number. I can’t quite place it, but at least it’s not a telemarketer. I answer just because curiosity will kill me one day.

“Hello?” I say cautiously, ready to click the phone off if I’ve been tricked, and, indeed, it is an advertiser.

“How come you didn’t tell me?” A distraught female voice greets my ear. I yank my phone away because she’s hurting my ear.

“Mrs. Tsai? Is that you?” I think I can place the voice, but I’m not sure because it’s at high volume.

“You knew he was dead when you talked to me. That’s how you found me!” She’s continuing her monologue without paying any attention to me, but I get the gist of it. She’s pissed because I didn’t tell her that her husband was dead when we last talked, and I don’t blame her. I would be angry with me, too, if I were her. However, I don’t feel that bad because her husband offered a whopper of a lie to me and my sisters without any remorse. While she hadn’t approved of it, she went along with it. Was it her job to tell me and my sisters? No. It sure as hell would have been nice, though.

“I’m sorry,” I say, although it’s begrudging. “I didn’t think it was y place to tell you. How did you find out?”

“The Minneapolis police called me,” she says, bursting into tears. “Oh my god! How can he be dead? I just talked to him last night!”

“It seems he was going to have it out with someone he thought had scammed him,” I inform her, telling her everything I know. “Does that sound familiar to you?”

“What? No! I—wait. Is this from when he lived in Minnesota? We weren’t together at that time.” Mrs. Tsai is still crying, but at least I can understand what she’s saying. “George was secretive about his time in Minnesota. He always said it was a mistake and that he didn’t want to talk about it. I should have made him!” She bursts into tears again, and I wait for her to regain her calm. Every time she tries to catch her breath, she starts crying again.

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