Chương 10
“Can I see it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know I borrowed money?”
“No.”
“Did you know my company was still active?”
“I suspected. You received a state filing notice at the villa.”
“When?”
“January.”
“I never saw it.”
“I gave it to David.”
Emily looked out the window. In the parking lot, an elderly man was wiping rain from the seat of a mobility scooter with a napkin.
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“He said you were sleeping.”
“You could have left it.”
“I could have done many things differently.”
The admission made Emily turn back.
Eleanor took off her glasses.
Her eyes looked swollen, though she wore no makeup heavy enough to hide it.
“Why the gold box?” Emily asked.
Eleanor folded the sugar packet into smaller and smaller squares.
“Because I was angry.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the answer.”
“You wanted to punish me.”
“Yes.”
The waitress returned. Eleanor ordered toast. Emily ordered nothing.
“You could have told me privately,” Emily said.
“I tried privately.”
“You could have tried harder.”
“I could have broken into the house I owned and dragged you into a room.”
“You had keys.”
“You changed the locks.”
“David said the insurance required it.”
“The insurance did not.”
Emily stared at the table.
Eleanor continued, “I sent letters. I called. I emailed. I asked Mara to contact you separately. Every response came from David or his attorney.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You did know I wanted the house back.”
“I thought you were being emotional.”
A small change passed over Eleanor’s face.
Emily hated herself for seeing it too late.
“Did you think I was confused?” her mother asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Because I lost a watch?”
“Because you were different.”
“My husband died.”
“My father died.”
“Yes.”
“You act like you were the only one who lost him.”
Eleanor’s hand stopped folding the sugar packet.
The diner continued around them. Plates clattered. Someone near the register laughed. The waitress called an order through the service window.
“You are right,” Eleanor said.
Emily had prepared herself for resistance. Agreement left her exposed.
“I needed you,” she said.
“I know.”
“You made everything about hospital forms and medication schedules.”
“He was dying.”
“I was scared.”
“So was I.”
“You never looked scared.”
“I did not have time to look scared.”
Emily pushed her coffee away.
Eleanor unfolded the sugar packet, though it had torn at one corner.
“I was angry at you,” she said. “You came four times.”
“David had a project.”
“You had a father.”
“He told me not to come if I couldn’t handle it.”
“He was ashamed of what dying looked like.”
“So you admit he told me not to come.”
“I admit he was proud and frightened. I also admit I resented you for accepting the invitation.”
Emily looked toward the rain-streaked window.
The waitress brought toast and set down a small bowl of grape jelly packets. Eleanor thanked her.
“Did Dad want the memorial trust?” Emily asked.
“He wanted something like it. We spoke about it in the hospital. Mara drafted notes. He died before signing a plan.”
“So this was your decision.”
“Yes.”
“You put his name on your decision.”
Eleanor pressed butter across the toast. “That criticism is fair.”
Emily had not expected that either.
“Why the villa?” she asked.
“Because he hated the family hotel near the cancer center. Because we could afford to create rooms where people could sleep without choosing between a meal and a parking garage. Because the house became unbearable to me.”
“And because you did not want me to have it.”
Eleanor placed the knife down.
“That too.”
The honesty hurt more than denial.
Emily opened the affidavit and slid it across the table.
“David wants me to sign this.”
Eleanor read the first page without touching it. When she reached the examples of confusion, her mouth tightened.
“The watch,” she said.
“I told him.”
“I see.”
“I didn’t know he would use it.”
“No.”
“Did you find it in the drawer?”
“Yes.”
“Did you accuse Rosa?”
“Yes.”
“Did she move it?”
“No.”
Emily waited.
Eleanor looked at the toast, then said, “I put it there. I had forgotten.”
The confession came without defense.
Emily’s eyes moved over the affidavit.
“Then he has something.”
“He has evidence that grief made me forget where I placed a watch. If that proves legal incapacity, half the widows in Florida will lose their checking accounts.”
Despite herself, Emily smiled.
Eleanor almost did.
Then Emily said, “I never told him that I later saw the hospital photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“Dad was wearing the watch before he was admitted. You must have put it away with his things.”
Eleanor looked at her.
For a moment, the diner seemed to recede.
“I accused Rosa,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I fired her.”
Emily had not known.
Eleanor reached for her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling her.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Mom, we are in the middle of—”
“I know what we are in the middle of.”
Rosa did not answer.
Eleanor left a message asking her to call and apologizing without explanation. Her voice shook on the final word.
When she put down the phone, Emily looked away.
It was easier to be furious with a mother who never admitted fault.
“Will you sign the affidavit?” Eleanor asked.
“No.”
“Because of me?”
“Because I don’t know what is true.”
“That is a better reason.”
Emily folded the paper again.
“I may have signed documents for David without reading them.”
“That was foolish.”
“I know.”
“You do not need me to soften it.”
“I know.”
Eleanor spread jelly on one corner of the toast and took a bite.
After chewing, she said, “Foolish is not the same as criminal.”
“What if the money benefited me?”
“Then you may have consequences.”
“That sounds like something Mara taught you to say.”
May you like
“It is something life taught me before Mara was born.”
Emily looked at her mother’s hands. The thin gold bracelets had belonged to Eleanor’s own mother. Emily had once asked to borrow them for a gala, and Eleanor refused. Emily accused her of caring more about jewelry than her daughter’s embarrassment.
