Chương 10
Teresa nodded.
Peter looked at Daniel.
“The motion is on the table.”
The vote took less than a minute.
When it ended, Daniel was still a shareholder and still technically an employee pending review.
But he was no longer running Mercer Dynamics.
He sat without moving.
Thomas lowered himself into the chair beside the window.
Vivian looked from Daniel to me as if she finally understood that the wedding was the smallest thing we had lost that morning.
I removed my veil.
Three pins caught in my hair and pulled painfully before I got it free.
Elena would have done it better.
I laid the veil beside the sugared almonds.
Then I looked at my mother.
“We still need to talk about the house.”
Vivian closed her eyes.
Daniel gave a bitter laugh.
And outside the conference-room windows, the string quartet began packing away the music they had never finished playing.
Vivian opened her eyes and stared at the veil as if it had offended her.
“Not here.”
Her voice was low.
I looked around the conference room.
Peter was gathering papers.
Teresa had moved to the corner to take a call.
Evan was photographing the whiteboard with his phone.
Thomas sat motionless.
Daniel was still looking at me.
“Fine.”
I picked up the veil.
“Somewhere private.”
Miriam touched my arm.
“Not entirely private.”
My mother gave her a look.
“You really do enjoy this.”
“No.”
Miriam closed her briefcase.
“I enjoy documentation.”
That was the closest thing to a joke anyone had made in an hour.
Vivian did not appreciate it.
We moved to the small morning room across the hall.
Someone had placed coffee there for guests who might need a break from the reception.
The reception that would not happen.
The coffee was still hot.
That seemed rude somehow.
Vivian sat on a striped sofa and smoothed her dress over her knees.
I stayed standing.
Miriam took the armchair nearest the door.
“You said the loan is real,” I said.
“It is.”
Miriam opened a folder.
“The lender advanced four hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.”
“To her?”
“To an account in Vivian’s name.”
I looked at my mother.
She nodded once.
“How much is left?”
“Claire.”
“How much?”
“Not much.”
“How much?”
She glanced at Miriam.
“Forty-two thousand.”
I felt my mouth go dry.
“You spent over four hundred thousand dollars in five months.”
“No.”
She folded her hands.
“I transferred most of it.”
“To Daniel.”
“To the business.”
“That distinction is not helping.”
“I was trying to keep your investment from collapsing.”
“By lying to the lender.”
Her face tightened.
“I did not lie.”
Miriam lifted one page.
“You signed a representation that you owned the property free of trust restrictions.”
Vivian’s gaze moved to the window.
“I misunderstood the form.”
“You initialed the paragraph explaining beneficial ownership.”
My mother looked at her.
“You always were meticulous.”
Miriam did not answer.
I sat across from Vivian.
The wedding dress spread around me in a white circle that made the conversation feel grotesque.
“Did Daniel know you were using the house?”
“He knew I could get money.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Vivian rubbed one thumb over the knuckle of the other hand.
“He knew afterward.”
“How long afterward?”
“A day.”
I let that settle.
“So he knew almost immediately.”
“Yes.”
“And he accepted the money anyway.”
“He needed it.”
“Did he know you did not own the house?”
She hesitated.
That was enough.
“Yes,” I said.
Vivian looked at me.
“He believed the trust arrangement could be corrected.”
“By whom?”
She did not answer.
“By me?”
“He thought you would approve it once the company recovered.”
I laughed once.
“After the fact.”
“He was desperate.”
“So were you.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I looked at her hands.
“You liked that he needed you.”
She sat back.
“You are in no position to psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m not.”
I was suddenly tired.
“I’m trying to understand why my mother risked her home and committed what might be fraud for my fiancé.”
She looked away again.
The word fraud had landed.
Miriam spoke quietly.
“We do not know whether criminal charges will be brought.”
Vivian gave a bitter little laugh.
“Thank you.”
“I’m not comforting you.”
“No, Miriam, you never do.”
I looked at my mother.
“Did Dad know you borrowed against things that weren’t yours?”
Her face changed immediately.
“Leave your father out of this.”
“He built the trust.”
“He controlled everything.”
“That is not what I asked.”
She stood.
The movement was so abrupt that the coffee table rattled.
“You worship him because he died.”
I stared at her.
Miriam looked down at the folder.
Vivian continued.
“He was not some saint.”
“I never said he was.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I said nothing.”
“You don’t have to.”
Her voice had risen.
She lowered it when two guests passed in the hallway.
“He left you the house through a trust and left me permission to live in it like I was a tenant.”
“Why?”
She laughed without humor.
“Because he knew me.”
The answer stopped me.
Vivian pressed her lips together.
Something in her seemed to fold.
“He knew I was terrible with money.”
That was the first admission I had ever heard her make without immediately blaming someone else.
I waited.
She sat again.
“After he got sick, I started buying things.”
Miriam looked at her.
“What things?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
Vivian waved one hand.
“Clothes.”
“Jewelry?”
“Some.”
“Trips?”
“Yes.”
“Credit?”
She nodded.
I watched her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked almost offended.
“Because you would have fixed it.”
The phrase echoed Daniel.
I almost laughed again.
Instead, I stared at her.
“You both hated me for being useful.”
“No.”
“You both used me for being useful.”
“That is different.”
“Is it?”
Vivian rubbed her temple.
“I did not hate you.”
“You resented me.”
“Yes.”
The answer came fast.
Honest enough to hurt.
“Why?”
May you like
She looked at the floor.
“Because your father trusted you with things he did not trust me with.”
