Chapter 5 - Derek’s Sons Weren’t Laughing
I did not question Tyler or Ben.
They were children.
And unlike the men in my family, I had no interest in turning children into evidence.
But Tyler called me.
His mother, Megan, had learned about the workplace investigation and moved temporarily with the boys to her sister’s home after weeks of fighting with Derek.
She was present on speaker.
“Uncle Virgil?”
“Hey, Tyler.”
“Is Lucas mad at me?”
I looked across the room.
Lucas was building something from LEGO.
“That’s a question for Lucas eventually.”
Tyler’s voice became small.
“I didn’t put Mr. Bamboo in there.”
“I believe you.”
“Dad said we had to bring the box outside.”
I closed my eyes.
Megan spoke gently.
“You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to.”
Tyler continued anyway.
“Dad said it was a lesson.”
“What did Grandpa say?”
A pause.
“He said Uncle Virgil would make a scene.”
My stomach tightened.
“Anything else?”
“I don’t remember.”
That was enough.
I changed direction.
“You are not responsible for what the adults did.”
He began crying.
“I should’ve taken the toys back.”
“You’re twelve.”
“I knew it was mean.”
“Knowing something is wrong and being able to stop your father are two different things.”
The sentence hurt because it applied to my mother too.
Maybe to me when I was younger.
Generational systems survive partly by giving children adult responsibility and adults childish excuses.
Tyler asked if he could apologize to Lucas.
“Not today.”
“Does he hate me?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer mattered.
I was not going to manufacture forgiveness for family convenience.
Later, Megan told me Derek had been furious all week before the barbecue.
He complained about an HR meeting scheduled for Monday.
“He kept saying your name.”
“Why?”
“He said if Peterson dragged you into it, you’d make him look guilty.”
“I didn’t even know he worked there.”
“I told him that.”
“What did he say?”
Megan hesitated.
“That you always act morally superior when there’s an audience.”
That sounded like Derek.
Then she added:
“He also told Tyler to keep his phone near the cooler because he wanted the barbecue recorded.”
I stared.
“Did he say why?”
“No.”
Another clue.
Still not enough for the full picture.
At work, the investigation widened.
Peterson’s audit found multiple CRM changes made after customers had declined commercial terms.
Some changes were Derek’s.
Others were made by employees who said Derek directed them.
Nobody had discovered some multimillion-dollar criminal conspiracy.
This was smaller.
Quota pressure.
Bad leadership.
Retaliation.
Misrepresentation.
Exactly the kind of misconduct people excuse because “every sales team pushes.”
Until somebody’s job depends on refusing.
Aaron and Priya had refused.
Derek called them weak.
I was starting to understand that the grill was not an unrelated family cruelty.
It belonged to the same belief system.
Pain proves strength.
May you like
Compliance proves loyalty.
And anybody who says no is the problem.
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