Life Is a Soap OperaChapter 8
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"Is your dad coming to the wedding?" Bailey asked from the kitchen table.
Gabe snorted. "No. He won't be able to make it."
It was the end of summer. Most of the wedding plans were finished and she was working on the final guest list so they could get a head count for the caterer. He was paying bills.
"Did you send him an invitation?"
"No."
Looking up, Bailey gave her fiancée a cross look. "Why not?"
"Because even if he could make it, I don't want him there."
She was at a loss for words. Even though she knew Gabriel and his dad weren't close, she assumed he would be invited to the wedding. "It can't be that bad."
"You don't know my father," Gabe said. He sounded annoyed, but she knew it wasn't because of her.
"You never talk about him."
"That's because he's a worthless sack of shit," he spat and Bailey was taken aback at the vitriol in his voice. A couple of times, she had asked about Gabe's dad, but his replies were always cryptic or vague.
They fell silent for a long time. Bailey watched Gabe stew, knowing that he'd open up once he had a minute to gather his thoughts.
"Dad left us high and dry," Gabe said finally. His voice was soft. And angry. "He ran out on us and left Mom to raise two kids on her own. We didn't hear from him for almost ten years. And when he did call, he was always wanting something. He showed up one night after a show and just expected me to let him mooch off me. He pulled that same shit with Michael."
"He's still your father," she said quietly. Bailey knew they came from different worlds. In hers, family was the most important thing there was. She was close to her parents and sister, even her cousins. She knew Gabe adored his mother and loved his brother, so the thought that he could turn his back on his father seemed alien to her.
"He never acted like it." All Gabe could do was frown. There was a crease in his brow Bailey had never seen before and she hoped never to be on the receiving end of his fury. "If you ever meet him, there's a good chance that within five minutes he's going to ask you for something. It might be for some money to invest in his latest scheme or it might be a 'loan'. He's always looking for a handout. I tried to help him a couple of times, but he just used me."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
Gabriel shrugged. "Five, maybe six years ago."
"Do you think he might have changed?"
"I doubt it."
"I think we should at least invite him to the wedding," Bailey said.
Taking a deep breath, Gabe forced himself to smile. He saw that she meant well. "Honey, if it makes you feel better, send him an invitation, but unless you want to get married around the Grand Canyon, my father won't be at our wedding."
"Why not?"
"Because last I checked, he was a 'guest' of the Arizona Department of Corrections in Phoenix." He took her hands. "I don't expect you to understand, but I don't want my father in my life right now. He's trouble. If you want, I'll take you to meet him, but I don't want him under my roof and I won't let him spend any time alone with you or any of our children. Ever. I just don't trust him."
Bailey's eyes were wide. She was speechless. He went back to the bills and she sat there watching him for a long time. Despite his bravado, she could see the hurt in his eyes. Her heart broke for him. Her family was so strong and his was so broken. She reached out and took his hand, holding it to let him know that she was there for him, and that he would never be without her love.
In the weeks before the wedding, Gabe came home to visit and sat her down at the kitchen table one morning. The date was fast approaching and he was trying to get home to her as often as he could, but she still felt like she had a million things to do before the big day.
"I have something for you to look at," he said. "Don't get so excited, sweetheart; you're not going to like it."
"I'm sure I'll like anything you give me," she replied.
"Not this." He drew out a thick envelope. A stack of papers fell out and he set it on the table.
"What's that?" Bailey asked.
"A pre-nuptial agreement." The words hung over them for a long moment. Bailey felt like he had slapped her. Her heart started to race.
It took her a moment to form a coherent sentence.
"What for?"
A sadness flashed across his eyes. It was as if he hated to even bring it up.
"I want you to take this to a lawyer or two and have them look at it," he said softly, knowing she was on the verge of slugging him.
"What if I refuse to sign it?" she dared to ask.
Gabriel took a deep breath. He looked like he was going to be sick. Still, he said the words anyway. "This is a showstopper, sweetheart. Please ... take it to a lawyer and have them go over it with you. I'm sorry, but this is something I have to do."
Dazed, Bailey sat at the kitchen table staring at the document.
For the first—and last—time, she doubted Gabriel's love for her.
Numbly, she picked it up and drove home to see her parents. They went to see her lawyer/insurance agent and waited for the other shoe to drop.
They sat in silence as the minutes ticked away.
"This is the craziest damn thing I've ever seen," he said after a long time.
"What do you mean, Freddie?" her father sounded concerned. They had gone to high school together and their families had always been close.
"If he were my client, there's not a chance in hell that I'd ever let him sign this thing." The lawyer shook his head and tossed his glasses on to the thick stack of paper.
"Why not?" Bailey asked.
"Young lady, do you know what the purpose of a pre-nuptial agreement is?"
"To keep gold diggers from cleaning someone out." There was a bit of a harsh edge in her voice.
"Essentially, yes." Freddie said. "Do you know why he would want you to sign this?"
Bailey thought for a second, not liking the answer that kept coming up. "He thinks I'm after his money."
"Do you know why he would think that?"
She just shrugged.
The lawyer reached for a folder on his desk. "When I found out you were engaged, I did some research and checked out your boyfriend. When you showed up here today, I won a hundred bucks from the other lawyer across the street."
He turned the folder around and Bailey's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. It was filled with pictures and news articles, all dealing with Gabriel and Jeannie MacKenzie, as well as a few court documents including what looked like a divorce decree and bankruptcy filing.
"His first wife cleaned him out," Freddie said. "Not only did she take almost all of his money, but she left him with a mountain of debt that took about four years for him to get clear of. That's why he's being so cautious. Pre-nups protect the wealthier party from being preyed upon by the other. Tell me, Bailey, aside from your personal belongings—clothes, jewelry and all that—what do you own?"
She came up blank.
"Right now, you own a 1970 Buick Skylark Gran Sport convertible—and a mighty nice one at that—but you essentially have nothing," he continued. "You are contributing no assets to the marriage. What do you think your fiancée is worth? Give me a ballpark figure. Andy? Joanne? Anyone got a guess?"
There were no takers.
"All of his assets are listed right here: stocks, IRAs, pension fund, the house in the city, cars, cash ... you name it. How much do you think he's got?" Freddie flipped through the document to one of the pages he had tabbed. Pointing to the bottom line, he said, "Gabriel MacKenzie's net worth is around eleven million. He's worked a lot, made some smart investments and it doesn't look like he really spends a lot of money. You may think he's spent the last two years doing nothing, but he and his financial advisor have done some really smart things and made a ton of dough. He doesn't have any vices ... no drugs, no gambling, no whoring ... none of the usual stuff you'd expect to see on the E! True Hollywood Story. Plus, he socked away a lot of his money in his mother's name so his wife couldn't spend it, and he got it back when she died. Smart guy."
"So he wants to protect what he's got?" Andy had a puzzled look on his face.
"That the thing," Freddie's voice trailed off for a second. "Most pre-nups preserve the relative wealth of each party in the event that the marriage dissolves. Let's say Gabriel has seventy percent of the assets and Bailey has thirty when they get married. If they got a divorce, they would divvy up their assets accordingly. So unless you won the lottery or made a bunch of money, to make a long story short, he'd get more than you in the settlement."
"So why would you advise him not to sign this?" Bailey breathed.
"For the first five years, it's a pretty standard pre-nup. You waive claim to any of the assets he brings into the marriage and vice-versa. Meaning that car of yours stays yours. Any of the money made or assets gained—regardless of who the earner is—while you are married would be divided 50/50. It's all here in legalese, but that's essentially what it says," Freddie put his glasses back on and flipped to another tab. "Then we get to the interesting part. After five years, you, Bailey, are specifically entitled to an increasing share of his wealth. This is why his lawyer probably went nuts. Most of the time, this is the stuff people fight about for months on end. It makes people like me very rich with lots of billable hours, but it's never written up this way from the beginning."
"Why not?"
"Because if you're a gold digger, he's essentially inviting you to divorce him after five years," Freddie said. The jaws on all the Crawfords dropped. "Oh, it gets better. If you make it to ten years, you are fully entitled to half of his assets going in to the marriage. He's making it very easy for you to clean him out before you turn thirty. That's why if I were his lawyer, I'd either walk away or make him sign a big stack of 'against professional advice' forms before drafting this thing."
Virginia
- 12.07.2021
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