Two Brothers, Their Mother, and the Green-Eyed Monster

By Craig Clovis

A Spellbinding Psychological Thriller with many Shocking Twists.
A tale of greed, deception, sibling rivalry, parental abuse and estrangement. Harrowing story of what happens when a loving son wants to provide comfort and care for his ailing mother suffering with dementia in her last years. Met with only animosity, jealousy and betrayal from his siblings, who are more interested in control than compassion. He perseveres through roadblock after roadblock__often going up against unscrupulous, attorneys, judges, and caregivers. The jealous brother used skeptical ways to obtain the power of attorney for their mother even during her attempts to remove him as sole power of attorney. He then uses this position and the authority it gave ‘him as ‘power for revenge’ against his brother. The jealous brother becomes “The Green Eyed Monster.” Shakespeare created this name for jealousy in his play, Othello to dramatize jealousy and it’s powerful and dangerous ability to destroy. Joined by their sister as he becomes more callous, relentless, contemptible and cruel towards their brother by wrongful use of his authority, ignoring the effect their actions were having on their 91-year-old mother in the final stage of dementia. She started to become more withdrawn, confused and broken-hearted. A lawsuit was filed against the jealous brother in an attempt to stop his cruelty.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
• Release date: Sep 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662932809

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Our Parents

Perfect Match

Audrey Ann Sommers and Charles Benjamin Barlow

Married on June 30, 1945 in Enid, Oklahoma. Audrey was strikingly beautiful, about 5’4 tall with long natural blonde wavy hair, and Charles was as strikingly handsome as she was beautiful. His hair was midnight black, always slicked back, looking shiny and clean. He was 6’2 and very lean. They had movie-star looks individually; when they were together, heads always turned to get a second glimpse.

Audrey is my mother. She was born in Enid, Oklahoma. Her mother’s name is Rose. Audrey and Rose were like best friends. They loved each other and enjoyed life together. Not having much money drew them in closer to each other. Mom learned how to sew from Rose, who was an incredible seamstress. They spent a lot of time together sewing for others as well as for themselves. Both had a great sense of style. They could take a dress pattern and manipulate it to their own personal style. When finished, the dress looked much better than the original pattern. The clothes they made looked like couture garments from the runways in Paris.

Audrey attended classes at Oklahoma University in Norman. When World War II broke out, she quit school to find a job. Audrey and Rose both got jobs at Tinker Air Force Base in Oklahoma City. Audrey was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. She was adventurous, fun and afraid of nothing. While she was working at Tinker, she took flying lessons and earned her pilot’s license. At that time, to earn your license you had to make the plane go into a nose dive as if crashing, then pull the plane back up.

Rose worked in the accounting office and Audrey worked in the commissary, which was in a different building. One particular morning the commissary door opened and through that door entered a tall, dark and handsome gentleman in his Air Force uniform. He had solid black hair, his body slender and muscular. He was as mesmerized by Audrey as she was with him. He reached out his hand for hers and introduced himself. My name is Charles. While shaking his hand, she said, Nice to meet you. My name is Audrey.

Charles said he was there to pick up some supplies and tried to hand Audrey his list. They could barely keep their eyes off each other. She reached her hand out as if to take the list but instead she held his shaking hand to steady it so she could read the first item. She looked over the list and said, No problem, adding that she would be right back with the first item. When she returned, she reached out to steady his hand again to see the second item on the list. Again, she said, I’ll be right back. She repeated this seven times until everything on the list was pulled. He wasn’t aware that she normally would take the list to the back and pull everything at the same time; she wanted him to stay longer so she acted like she had to pull each item individually. Before he left, he ask Audrey if he could call her sometime. She wrote her phone number down on a piece of ‘paper and said that would be nice.

Charles, my dad, grew up in Guthrie, Oklahoma on a dairy farm. He had hard-working, loving parents. His dad was a state highway commissioner and traveled frequently. He died of a heart attack in his car on the side of the road just a month prior to Charles meeting Audrey. His mother ran the dairy farm. His parents first child was a little girl who died right after her first birthday from tuberculosis. Several years later she gave birth to their first son, then seven years later they had a second son, my dad. He was not close to his older brother because of their seven-year age difference. Dad graduated from Oklahoma State University in Stillwater, and while there he won the All Sports Trophy for participating in basketball, football, wrestling and track. He was a member of the Sigma Chi fraternity. With his good looks and being such a great athlete, I would imagine he was the hot man on campus. People enjoyed hanging around Charles; he had a big heart and a dry sense of humor. He was always smiling and laughing, and making those around him do the same.

After being married for three years, Mom and Dad gave birth on May 21 to a little girl they named Carol Ann. (Ann was my mother’s middle name.) She quickly became Daddy’s little girl. It’s my understanding that he wouldn’t discipline her because he wanted to remain the good guy. When Carol was bad, he would hand her over to Mom to discipline her.

Three years later on the same date, May 21, they gave birth to their first son and named him Clinton Charles, calling him Clint for short. He was named after my dad, Charles Benjamin. They had the ideal family most parents hope for, a boy and a girl.

Then, I am sure to their surprise, Mom was pregnant again. Fourteen months after Clint was born they gave birth to their second son, me. I was named after my grandfather. Being born fourteen months after their last child, it appeared their family plan, if that had been the case, of one boy and one girl was abruptly changed. I like to think I was a gift from God!

I was around eight years old when one day I realized that I was probably not planned, since my brother and sister were three years apart. At dinner one night we were all seated in our regular places at the dinner table. Dad was seated at one end of the table, Mom at the other end, Carol across from me, Clint next to her on one side and myself on the other side. There was a lull in the conversations so I took advantage of it and said very nonchalantly, I know I was a mistake. Mom immediately looked at Dad and Dad at Mom as if they were saying to each other at the same time, I didn’t tell him, did you? They seemed worried that I might be upset. I didn’t mind if I wasn’t planned like my sister and brother. In fact, it made me feel special.

Both of my parents were gentle, kind and respectful to each other throughout their married life. In all the photos of them together, you can see in their faces the love they shared and how they adored each other. I can remember, even as a kid, they where always very affectionate with each other . I was blessed to have had them as my parents. I was very proud to be their son.

Having wonderful parents, though, doesn’t guarantee their good traits and qualities will be passed on to their children. When children are very young they can appear to have inherited good qualities from their parents, like loving their brother and sister. But then, they grow up…

CHAPTER TWO

My Story

Despite all the Good, Tragedy Awaits

Dad was 68 when he passed away. Mom was widowed at 63. Dad died way too young, leaving Mom a widow also too young. Traditional wedding vows end with in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part. Mom and Dad’s wedding vows could have ended with in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish in life and in death.

Mom never went a day without wearing her wedding rings. I have been told there were several men from the church who tried to catch her attention, but knowing Mom, she probably wasn’t even aware of it. If she was aware, it didn’t matter; Mom was not interested. She was still in love with my dad. She knew their kind of love was rare and could never be duplicated by anyone else.

Every Christmas Dad would ask me to do his Christmas shopping for Mom. He wanted Mom to have something really special that would be from him. He learned a long time ago that he wasn’t good at buying Mom gifts. His shopping was not at a store, florist or candy shop; it was the Spencer catalog. There are a lot of funny stories about Dad and that Spencer catalog. Dad knew that I would know exactly what to get Mom better than anyone else. He never gave me a budget but I understood limitations, along with a little common sense. The first Christmas after Dad passed away, I wanted to give Mom something really special, something that I might have purchased for Dad to carry on his tradition. The entire family had gathered in the living room to unwrap Christmas gifts. All eyes were on Mom as she began to unwrap my gift to her. I was trying to hold back my emotions, but I felt my eyes watering. Opening gifts took Mom a long time; she always wanted to save the paper and ribbons. When she finally opened the box and pulled out the full-length mink coat, everyone in the room was crying. No one else knew that I had planned to give her something that Dad might have given her. I wanted this to be a little celebration to his memory. I didn’t have to explain to everyone in the room; everyone knew. All the tears were unexpected. They were tears of joy and remembrance.

Mom enjoyed life and had lots of girlfriends to enjoy it with. She belonged to a bridge club, she admitted for the purpose of keeping her mind active. She was very active in church, the same church she had attended for over sixty years. Since Mom had been taught to sew by her mother, and because she was a perfectionist, she had been named Director of the Banner Club for the First Baptist Church. The banner club was a group of ladies that volunteered their time to design and make large banners that would hang in the auditorium of the church.

One of Mom’s favorite activities was going Boot Scootin(country western dancing) once a month. Mom always wore the red ostrich cowgirl boots I bought for her. She would tell me they made her Boot Scootin look better.

Mom and I were very close, did a lot of fun things together, and enjoyed lots of happy times. One in particular I often think about, even today. I was fourteen years old, and Mom and Dad were remodeling the kitchen. The old kitchen had been completely torn out and the new cabinets were being installed, wallpaper being hung and new appliances arriving. The last decision to be made was light fixtures. Mom and I drove to Tulsa to a new lighting store that just opened. It was a mega store and everything you could possibly want was there. We took our time and shopped the entire store. When it was time to stop for a break, it was also time to make some decisions on what we liked and needed. Mom was having a really good time, she seemed to be experiencing some level of euphoria. I loved witnessing this joy Mom was experiencing. We agreed on a chandelier for the dining area in the kitchen, a pole lamp for the living room, and two wall-mounted light fixtures to go on each side of her and Dad’s bed.

After Dad passed away I made a commitment to myself to go see Mom at least once a month for 3 or 4 days. She stayed so busy that some months I didn’t go home because of her schedule. We talked on the phone often. I tried to make myself available on Sundays; that seemed to be when Mom missed my dad the most and felt lonely. She never let on that she felt that way, but on those Sunday phone calls I could tell. She tried to cover it up the loneliness by talking a lot, but that’s what gave it away, since usually I do most of the talking.

As the months went on it was obvious that Mom was starting to slow down, which was expected. Sometimes it was her decision; there were certain things she used to enjoy doing that she decided not to do any longer. Other times the decision to slow down was unfortunately dictated by others. One of her bridge club members called me one day and told me that Mom could no longer play bridge with their group. The lady said Mom couldn’t stay awake for the entire game. I wanted to strangle her. I thought that was mean. So what if she dozed off once in a while? Mom acted like it was her decision to stop playing but she knew. It was difficult seeing Mom’s feelings being hurt like that.

I continued going home once a month. It was becoming easier to plan these trips because she was spending less time traveling and staying home more. I kept encouraging Mom to make the short trip to Dallas to come see me. I knew getting her out of the house, coming to Dallas and seeing my showroom, which was something she always enjoyed doing, would be good for her. She was understandably hesitant about making this trip but eventually agreed. I did everything possible to make the trip easy and without incident for her. Arrangements were made with a friend of mine, who she knew and liked, to get her from her house to the Tulsa airport and on the plane. She flew into Love Field Airport, I had an airport concierge meet her when she got off the plane and escort her to where I would be waiting. I was standing at the bottom of the very tall and wide set of stairs that descended from the gates to baggage claim. I could see the top of Mom’s head as she was approaching the stairs and watched her come into full view. Seeing her come down the steps with the escort, I could see for the first time the difficulty she was having walking. When Mom saw me I could see the joy and relief in her face. She made it to Dallas. We had a great time together while she was here.

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t home with Mom on Easter. Our last Easter Sunday together, after we had our breakfast and were dressed ready for church, I wanted to take Mom’s picture. She looked beautiful in her teal colored ribbon knit skirt and jacket and the biggest white orchid corsage I could find pinned to her lapel. I positioned Mom so the lighting was just right and told her to stand up straight. As soon as I said to stand up straight, I was hoping she didn’t hear me, but she did and replied, I thought I was. She was becoming crippled in her back and one leg. She could no longer stand straight up. When I realized what I had done, I quickly responded and said, Now there, that’s perfect.

CHAPTER THREE

Will Or Not To Will

To Whom the Power is Given

Witnessing the decline in Mom’s health, I realized I needed to think about something that had not been a concern of mine until now. A will is something necessary at death, and in my mind, death for Mom wasn’t going to happen for a very long time. The reality was, it was closer than I was allowing my brain to comprehend.

I had not been concerned, knowing that Mom and Dad would be completely fair when they wrote their will, I never felt the need to read it. Now, however, it was no longer Mom and Dad’s will, it was Mom’s. Accompanying the will would be Mom’s directives on her health care and directives on how she wanted other issues to be handled. I do know that both Carol and Clint had read it, which made me realize the will could have been changed several times after Dad passed away.

Because of the declining relationship between me and both my brother and sister, I now had a reason to be pro-active and read the will myself. I requested a copy from my brother and immediately he became defensive, asking me why I wanted to see it. It was obvious he was very reluctant for me to have access to Mom’s will. I could tell by his response that getting a copy from Clint was never going to happen; he had no intention of furnishing me a copy. Why was he so concerned and unwilling for me to see the will?

Next week when I was home with Mom, I found her copy of the will. It was what I had suspected. The will stated that when Mom was no longer able to make decisions for herself or care for herself, Clint would assume the role through being given power of attorney. Twenty-five years ago when Dad was still alive, I could understand that he might have suggested that Clint be the best candidate to handle their affairs. Clint was the oldest son and much more conservative than myself. He also planned to remain in our hometown or close by.

My dad was an executive with an oil company, but he also had an oil drilling supply company. I found out years later that all revenue from the supply business had been deposited in a special account that would guarantee a college education for all three of us. Both my parents wanted us to experience college life to the fullest, meaning they didn’t want their children to work while going to college.

Clint appeared to be content living a mundane life in a small town, knowing he would eventually take over the supply business. When Dad passed away I know he was proud of both Clint and me. I also know that Mom and Dad were very aware of the differences in my personality and Clint’s.

While I attended Oklahoma State University, I chose to work part time at Harold Brothers Menswear, a prominent high-end men’s clothing store downtown . My parents didn’t really want me to take this job, but they understood that it would actually be an important part of my education, since retail was what I wanted to do. I always try to look my best, and in doing so I spent a lot of money on clothes. I knew that having a job at Harold Brothers, I would get a discount on clothes, so it was a win-win situation. The policy at Harold Bros when an employee purchased something for themselves was that the bookkeeper would keep a log for each associate and their purchases. At the end of the month we had the option either to have the amount deducted from our month-ending paycheck, or pay for what we bought that month. I had not paid close attention; I just paid with a check what the bookkeeper said I owed. I was halfway through the second semester of my freshman year when I started realizing that the amount I was paying for my clothes was not enough. I went to the bookkeeper to apologize because I thought I owed the store some money. She got this big smile on her face and said she couldn’t believe it took me this long to figure it out. She told me that my dad had been paying for half of everything I bought. I was so blessed to have such a kind and generous dad.

Under Harold’s watchful eye, I learned to do everything he did, everything a person who owned a menswear store must know. These responsibilities ranged from doing minor emergency alterations to planning sales, preparing to go to market, even washing the outside windows every Saturday morning.

One month after I graduated from OSU and had moved to Dallas to begin my new job with a prominent department store, Harold called me one night around 10:15. He offered me a plan that would give me full ownership in the store if I would come back, the kind of offer few people ever receive. I had never felt so honored. The offer Harold was proposing gave me a lot to think about. Do I continue with my new position in Dallas or move back to Oklahoma to take ownership of Harold Brothers?

I thanked Harold with all my heart and let him know how honored I was that he believed in me enough to offer me this opportunity. I turned it down and stayed with the career plan that I was beginning in Dallas. Part of my decision to stay in Dallas with my new job was because I had been offered and accepted this job over a year previous, during my junior year in college.

After thirteen years as a buyer for Stanley Blair’s, I opened my first of three specialty stores. For the next three years I lived the life of owning three retail stores, which meant