Chapter Forty: Reigning Pain In New Orleans
"Though force can protect in an emergency, only justice, fairness, consideration and cooperation can finally lead men to the dawn of eternal peace." – President Dwight D. Eisenhower
"Looks like Collins is here," Will noted as he saw the woman's Jeep parked in Beck's driveway.
"Who's car is that?" JJ asked, eyeing the truck parked next to Beck's car, but Will simply shrugged in response.
Tate reached the front door and opened it. She didn't knock – no one in either family ever did when they were stopping by each other's houses – and hung up her coat before heading into the kitchen. Will and JJ were slightly further behind since each of them had one of the twins with them.
As Tate left the entryway and walked toward the kitchen, she could hear voices. One of them was definitely Beck and she was nearly certain the other belonged to Collins, but she couldn't place the third one. It sounded familiar, like she should know it, but she couldn't figure out who it belonged to. She turned the corner into the kitchen to find Collins sitting at the counter with Beck leaning against it, along with another man that had his back to her. A floorboard creaked beneath her feet and Beck's head shot up.
"Tate," he said blankly, but she could see the nervous look on his face.
Collins wore an identical expression and it wasn't until the other man turned around that she understood why. All the color drained from the man's face as his eyes locked onto hers. His dark blue eyes immediately identified him as a Devereaux. And as far as Tate knew, the only remaining Devereaux was Charlie. Her father.
"Everything alright?" Will inquired from behind her, noticing how the girl was frozen in the middle of the kitchen.
"What the hell is he doin' here?" Will asked coldly as soon as he saw who was standing in his brother's kitchen.
"Will, I…" Beck began but seemed to be unable to find something to say.
The way Charlie was looking at Tate startled her a little. She'd been told he didn't want to see her, and she'd expected him to look at her like every other foster father had. Like Tommy Jacobs had. As an inconvenience, as an annoying kid that he couldn't get rid of. But he wasn't. There was something different in his eyes. He was looking at her the way Will did, she realized. The way a good father should look at their children. Lovingly. Caring. Protective.
"Charlie, maybe you should go," Amelia said gently, having appeared in the kitchen after hearing the front door closed.
"Yeah, I was just headin' out," the man said, shaking himself out of his stupor as he grabbed his coat of a stool.
"I'll uh… take care of what we talked about," Collins assured him.
"Alright, thanks."
"Lemme walk you out," Beck said, grabbing his jacket so he could talk to Charlie outside.
"See you later, 'Lia," Charlie said to his sister-in-law.
"Bye, Charlie."
"JJ, Will, good seein' you," he said, taking one last glance at Tate before stepping past her and heading outside. Beck sighed and pulled on his coat before dashing after his brother.
"Seeing as how none of you decided to answer me, I'll ask again; what was he doing here?" Will asked Collins.
"We had some stuff to go over, okay? Beck just lost track of time, I guess. We can talk about it later," Collins replied, flicking her eyes over to Tate.
Tate knew the woman was trying to be subtle, but it was obvious. It was the "not in front of Tate" look that she'd seen so often as of late. Even when the discussion directly involved her, it was always "we'll talk about it later", but later just meant when Tate couldn't hear them.
Amelia set to work finishing up dinner as she called upstairs to tell Asher to come set the table. Wells showed up a few minutes later with Tuck and June in tow and Beck came back in from outside. Tate heard the truck pull out of the driveway and watched as Beck went over to Will and told him something, keeping his tone low so no one else would overhear. So she wouldn't overhear.
Will glanced over at Tate, who had seated herself in the corner of the couch. She'd been quiet ever since she'd seen Charlie, and Will could tell something was wrong. Asher had tried talking to her for a little while, but he had given up to go and watch the twins while JJ and Collins sat with Amelia in the kitchen. Wells had also tried but he clearly made Tate nervous, which thankfully he recognized. So, after the second time she'd flinched away from him, he'd gone to help Asher and Ezra with the little kids.
"Can I talk to you about something for a minute?" Collins asked and Will startled slightly, not realizing the woman had approached him.
"Yeah, sure," he replied as she pulled him towards the entryway so that everyone else in the living room would be out of earshot.
"Well, I guess I don't really need to talk to you so much as give you something," she told him quietly, holding out an envelope.
Will set his beer down on a side table and took the envelope, giving Collins a confused look. He broke the seal and reached in to pull out the piece of paper.
"Collins… what the hell is this?" he asked, shocked.
"It's a check," she replied, matter-of-factly.
"It's a check for ten million dollars, Collins," he exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down.
"Well, I'm glad to see you can read," she quipped.
He looked back down at the check, unable to form a reply. Ten million dollars. A ten million dollar check made out to Tate LaMontagne. His kid was a millionaire. His fifteen year old daughter had more money than he'd ever make in his life.
"What… why are you giving this to me?"
"Well as you can see, it's not for you. It's for Tate. And Charlie asked me to make sure it got to you," she explained.
"I don't want his money," Will scoffed. "What? He decides he doesn't want to be in her life and thinks money will fix it?"
If Charlie didn't want to meet Tate, fine. But he certainly didn't get to write out a giant check to ease his guilt. He didn't get to pretend like he was some amazing father just for coughing up millions of dollars.
"It's not from Charlie, it's from my father."
"That's the answer you're going with? A dead man gave my daughter ten million dollars?"
Collins wordlessly handed him another stack of papers and he sighed before accepting them and leafing through them.
"What is this?"
"That right there is the last will and testament of Andrew Nicolas Devereaux."
"I, Andrew Devereaux, being of sound mind and body, hereby leave all my worldly possessions to be divided among my biological grandchildren," he read softly.
"That includes Tate," Collins reminded him.
"Yeah, thanks, I got that," he retorted. "So you're telling me your daddy was worth $30 million dollars?"
"Try 60 million. Asher and Ezra, plus the baby."
Will looked up at her in surprise before carefully rereading the will.
"That son of a bitch. He knew!?"
"It's the only reason I can think of as to why he wouldn't list the kids out by name."
So, not only had Andrew Devereaux cheated on his wife, but he'd known he had another son. He'd known about Beck and had done nothing. He'd never approached him, never talked to him, and yet for some reason, kept tabs on him.
"Does Beck know?"
"That's what Charlie and I were talking to him about earlier."
"And he took the money?"
"Well, it's not for him. None of us were left with anything, only the kids," Collins informed him.
"How come?"
"I know this might be hard to believe," Collins joked. "But Charlie and I are trust fund kids. We each got about $5 million when we turned 21. Charlie never touched his – didn't want anything to do with our dad – and that along with the interest from it sitting in a bank for 18 years means he'll be fine until he can find a job."
"Collins, I just…"
"Look, I know you want nothing to do with Charlie, but it's not from him and it's a lot of money to throw away. In case you don't know, Harvard costs a shit ton of money."
"She's not sure if it's gonna be Harvard yet," Will replied, cracking a grin.
"Anyone with half an eye can see that girl would choose Harvard in a heartbeat."
Tate, of course, had gotten into Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. Will knew Harvard was her top choice and Collins was right, college was ridiculously expensive. Especially since he had a feeling Tate would take after Reid and get a Ph. D or two. But still, his kid, who'd basically been set up to fail in life, had gotten into the best school in the country and, arguably, the world.
"Yeah, you're probably right," he admitted.
"So, what's stopping her?" Collins asked.
"Well, you know JJ. She's been pushing for Yale. And I'd rather have her at Georgetown or something in DC. Even something down here would be fine."
"I know you're worried, but she'll be fine, Will."
"Collins, have you seen her recently?" Will said, raising an eyebrow at the woman.
"And you and I both know she'll get better. She's a Devereaux after all. We're too stubborn to have anyone prove us wrong," Collins assured him.
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," he murmured.
"But you'll take the money?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'll put it into an account for her," he confirmed.
"Good."
"What were you and Collins talking about earlier?" Tate asked Will as he sat next to her on the couch.
They'd just finished dinner and Wells and Amelia had offered to clean up the kitchen, so everyone else was sprawled out in the living room. Collins and Beck were trying to find a movie to put on since the little kids had been put in one of the guest rooms upstairs to sleep for a while.
"Hm? Oh, it was nothing," Will said.
Tate eyed him suspiciously, knowing there was more to the story than he was letting on.
"And why was… he here?" she asked.
"You don't need to worry about it," he replied.
"Right," Tate scoffed quietly.
She was sick of everyone talking circles around her. It wasn't like she was being nosy and asking about things that were none of her business; everything she wanted to know had to do with her. But everyone, especially Will and JJ, kept avoiding her questions as if she was a little kid that couldn't read between the lines. To make it even worse, they all acted like she was making a big deal out of nothing. Like she was being paranoid, crazy. And she knew she was paranoid, just a little, but they were just making everything even worse.
"What's going on with you?" Will asked gently, noticing his daughter's tone that she rarely used.
"Why don't you tell me? Oh wait, I forgot, I don't have to worry about it," she snapped as she stood up from the couch. "I'm going for a walk."
Tate quickly headed toward the entryway before Will could say anything and shoved on her shoes, not even bothering to put her coat on before stepping out into the cool night air. She could hear Will and JJ calling out after her but she ignored them, firmly closing the front door behind her. Unsurprisingly, she only made it to the end of the driveway before she heard the distinct sound of the front door slamming. She kept walking, determined to make whoever had come after her – most likely JJ or Will but possibly Beck – catch up to her. Sure enough, footsteps crunching on the gravel kept getting closer and closer until someone jogged up beside her.
"What, you weren't gonna wait around for me?" Asher asked, feigning offense.
"They threw you to the wolves, huh?" she replied, continuing to walk down the street.
"I'll have you know I volunteered to come."
"Why's that?"
"Well, I figured you might want someone that isn't treating you like your Ezra's age at the moment."
"So, I'm not making it up?" she asked.
"Nope, you officially have helicopter parents," he informed her.
"See, that's where you're wrong. I have three dead parents, two helicopter ones, and one that can't even stay in the same room as me for five minutes," she corrected. "But hey, everyone else is just acting like he went to get some milk at the corner store."
Asher laughed and Tate stopped for a second, turning to look at her cousin. She'd always had a dark sense of humor, one that few people could appreciate. However, she'd discovered it was yet another trait shared by the Devereauxs. Although Asher didn't really have his father's looks, personality wise, he was all Beck minus the man's temper.
"Charlie's an interesting guy, I'll give you that," he said.
"Well, you would know. You've probably spent more time with him than I have."
"Yeah, I guess."
Truth be told, Tate hadn't gained anything, not really. Asher had gotten an uncle and a cousin, and all Tate got was yet another parent that had left her. She supposed she'd technically gotten an aunt in Collins, but she had a feeling the woman would side with Charlie if it came down to it.
"What's he like?" she asked quietly.
Part of her wanted to know what her parents had been like. Part of her wanted to know so much it hurt. She'd come from these two people, and yet she knew nothing about them. But the other part of her knew that knowing what she was missing would just make things worse. Besides, it's not like she needed Charlie. She had JJ and Will, and that was all she needed. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder about Charlie and Lila. Abby had told her it was natural, that everyone likes to know where they come from, but it felt wrong. Wanting to know Charlie felt wrong, especially with how Will had been acting. He'd made his dislike for the man clear, and Tate could tell JJ was on the fence. But she couldn't help it, she needed to know.
"Remarkably like you, actually. Or, I suppose you're like him. He's got the Devereaux dark sense of humor down to a T and he's got an IQ of 160 so it's not like he's stupid."
"What do you know about Lila?" she asked hesitantly.
She knew it was a long-shot, Asher had probably never even heard anyone mention her, but she had to try.
"Nothing, really. I wish I could tell you something but…" he said apologetically.
"It's fine, you shouldn't have to describe my parents to me."
"No, no I guess I shouldn't," he replied softly. "Our family's pretty messed up huh?"
"You can say that again."
They had started to get deeper into the heart of the city and it was remarkably quiet for a Friday night. It might have had something to do with the light rain that'd been falling all day, but Tate didn't mind. The streetlights were dimly lit, cutting through the fog, and the streets were almost empty. It was nice, she thought. Peaceful.
"You could always ask Drew," Asher pointed out.
"Drew?" Tate asked, confused. "Will's old partner Drew?"
"Well, yeah, he's your…" Asher trailed off. "Oh, they didn't tell you."
"Tell me what, Ash?"
"He's your uncle. He was Lila's brother," Asher explained.
"Oh."
Yet another thing she'd been lied to about. She'd assumed everyone on her mother's side of the family was dead, or that she was an only child. No one had ever said anything about her having a brother, and certainly not that her brother had been Drew. It wasn't even a lie for a good reason. Will and JJ had no reason to protect her from Drew, it wasn't like he was going to hurt her or try and get custody of her, which she knew was a fear they had when it came to Charlie. They simply hadn't told her for no reason.
"I'm sure they meant to tell you," he assured her.
"I doubt it," she replied harshly.
"Yeah, I guess that's fair," he said. "They've been pretty bad recently, huh?"
"You have no idea."
"Listen, maybe you should tell them you want to see Charlie," Asher suggested hesitantly.
"Why would I want to do that?" she asked, already knowing the answer deep down.
"Because you have to. He's your father and there's something inside of you that clearly wants to know more about him, and about your mother."
"Will and JJ would never go for it," she replied.
"You never know until you ask. Besides, you were the one who said they were downplaying it."
"Well, I guess if I don't meet him I'll be having water in my cereal."
Asher snorted and wrapped an arm around Tate's shoulders, and it was then that she noticed her little cousin was now taller than her. Not that it was much of a surprise, given Beck's height.
"What is it?" he asked her after a moment of silence.
"Nothing, I'm just trying to figure out when you stopped being an annoying little twelve year old," she quipped.
"Probably when I turned 13," he reminded her. "Or maybe 14 year old me is just oh so wise."
"Cause that's definitely it," she replied.
The pair walked quietly along the rainy streets for a few more minutes until a thought suddenly came to Tate's mind.
"Sometimes I wish I could stay here," she told her cousin wistfully.
"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
"I don't know, things have always just been… simpler here. Everything always seems to go to shit in DC."
"New Orleans ain't all it's cracked up to be," he reminded her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, there's the whole debacle of the three Devereaux siblings. Mom's constantly worried that the baby's gonna die like all the others. Dad's seeing a quack. Ezra's… going through some shit. Really, I'm the only simple one."
"Beck's been seeing a psychologist?" she asked, surprised.
It was the first she'd ever heard of it. He'd never once mentioned it and he'd always seemed so put together. Like nothing in the world could break Beckett LaMontagne. After all, he had the perfect job, the mostly perfect family. What could be so wrong with that? Except Tate knew all too well from personal experience that even the most perfect looking families could be rotting on the inside.
"I spewed out all of that and the one thing you took away from it is that Dad's seeing a shrink? Oh shit, is that like offensive if I call them shrinks?"
"Probably but Abby's never minded. Keep in mind your mom's one of those shrinks," Tate chastised him.
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
"So, what's up with Beck?"
"Funny you think I know. Combination of Andrew and the baby, I guess. Plus, he's always kind of… struggled," Asher tried to explain.
"You mean with depression?" she asked, and Asher nodded.
"It was worse when I was little. I don't really remember it all that much but I think it got pretty bad at one point. Grandpa finally dragged him to see someone."
"Oh."
"Yeah, so much for perfect New Orleans, right?"
"And what about Ezra?"
"That's… not my story to tell I guess," he said.
"And Beck going to see a shrink is?"
"It's complicated," Asher told her, effectively ending the conversation about Ezra.
Tate checked her watch, noting that they'd been gone for over an hour. It would be nine o'clock soon, so they'd need to head back eventually. Maybe not before they got some ice cream though. Or beignets, beignets would do.
"You could go ask Drew, you know. About your mother. I'm sure he'd tell you," Asher pointed out.
"Yeah, maybe you're right."
Maybe Will hadn't talked to Drew yet, which meant she might actually get the truth for once. At the very least, she'd get someone that was actually willing to talk about her mother. She just wanted something, anything, no, she needed it. Collins was really the only other person she could ask, and Tate got the feeling she wouldn't be up for sharing. Besides, Drew would've been closer to Lila, would know more about her. As they crossed a street, Tate realized the man's apartment was only a few more blocks into the city. She'd been a few times to walk Drew's dog while he was away on vacation or was going to be late getting home from work, and she knew she could easily get there from where they were.
"How about we go now?" she suggested.
"To see Drew?" Asher asked, confused.
"Why not? His place is like two blocks down that way."
"It's the middle of the night."
"Ash, it's barely nine o'clock. And your cool older cousin will take all the blame if Will tries to bite your head off."
"Sounds like a good deal to me," Asher joked.
"You and I know and do not believe that life is so dear and peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery. If nothing in life is worth dying for, when did this begin - just in the face of this enemy? Or should Moses have told the children of Israel to live in slavery under the pharaohs? Should Christ have refused the cross? Should the patriots at Concord Bridge have thrown down their guns and refused to fire the shot heard 'round the world? The martyrs of history were not fools, and our honored dead who gave their lives to stop the advance of the Nazis didn't die in vain. Where, then, is the road to peace?" – President Ronald W. Reagan