Chương 6
She swallowed.
“That sounds familiar.”
The sentence landed between us.
I looked away.
Across the street, a man in a Broncos sweatshirt was wrestling a plastic cover over a patio grill while his dog barked at nothing.
His wife opened their front door and shouted that he was going to freeze.
He shouted back that he was almost done.
For one absurd second, I envied them.
Emily touched my arm.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going to the police?”
The question made my stomach tighten.
Until that moment, the money had existed as betrayal, not crime.
I looked through the front window.
Patricia was visible near the dining room, speaking rapidly to Robert.
My mother sat alone on the staircase.
“I don’t know.”
Emily nodded.
Then she said, “Mom’s going to call you.”
“I know.”
“She’ll call a lot.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
That almost made me smile.
“You sound like Grandma.”
“God forbid.”
I laughed despite myself.
Emily laughed too, then immediately started crying.
I put one arm around her.
For a few seconds, we stood in the cold with Lily between us.
When Emily went back inside, I sat in my car and locked the doors.
I did not start the engine.
My hands were numb.
Lily began fussing in her car seat, irritated by the straps and my failure to make the world move.
“I know.”
I leaned over and tucked the blanket around her legs.
“Everybody’s terrible.”
She sneezed.
“Good point.”
My phone showed nine missed calls.
Three were from Mom.
Five were from Patricia.
One was from an unknown number.
A text from Grandma appeared while I was looking.
No pressure.
Hotel front desk has your name if you want it.
I stared at the message.
Then another notification came.
Mom.
Please let me explain.
I turned the phone facedown.
The engine hesitated twice before starting.
That embarrassed me, although nobody was there to hear it.
The dashboard light for low fuel was already on.
I had planned to stop after dinner and put fifteen dollars in the tank.
Now the thought made me furious.
I drove three blocks before pulling into a gas station.
Under the fluorescent canopy, I stood beside the pump in the rain and watched the numbers climb past fifteen.
I let them keep going.
Twenty.
Twenty-five.
Thirty.
At thirty-two dollars and eighteen cents, the tank clicked full.
I stared at the amount.
Then I started crying.
Not because of the money.
Because for almost a year, every ordinary decision had required calculation.
Gas or diapers.
Prescription or groceries.
Rent today or phone bill Friday.
I had trained myself to stop pumps early.
I had trained myself to put things back.
I had trained myself to say no before anyone else could.
A hundred eighty thousand dollars had existed while I was learning those habits.
Then another forty thousand.
A man filling a pickup truck at the next pump glanced at me and quickly looked away.
I wiped my face with my sleeve.
“Very dignified.”
Lily kicked against her car seat.
At the Brown Palace, the lobby was warm enough to make my wet clothes smell faintly like pavement.
A pianist was playing something soft near the atrium.
People in dinner clothes crossed polished floors carrying cocktails, shopping bags, and small wrapped gifts.
I suddenly became aware of my hoodie again.
A woman behind the front desk smiled at Lily before looking at me.
“Ms. Bennett?”
I froze.
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Whitmore arranged a room, but she specifically asked us to tell you that you may decline it.”
That sounded so much like Grandma after our conversation that I almost laughed.
“Did she also tell you I’m difficult?”
The woman’s smile became real.
“No, ma’am.”
“Give her time.”
The room was on a high floor.
It had two beds, thick white towels, a crib that had already been delivered, and a view of downtown Denver shining through rain.
I put Lily on the carpet with two plastic stacking cups from my diaper bag.
She immediately ignored them and crawled toward the hotel wastebasket.
“No.”
She kept going.
“Absolutely not.”
She looked back at me and grinned.
I picked her up.
“You’re developing terrible judgment at a difficult time.”
She slapped my cheek affectionately.
I ordered grilled cheese and tomato soup from room service because it was the cheapest thing on the menu that sounded like actual food.
Then I saw the price and almost canceled.
My thumb hovered over the call button.
I thought of the gas pump.
I ordered it.
While we waited, I gave Lily a bath in the deep hotel tub.
She splashed water everywhere and screamed with delight when I poured a cup over her stomach.
For ten minutes, there was no missing money.
No aunt.
No lawyers.
No dead husband.
There was only my daughter trying to eat a washcloth.
When she was finally asleep in the crib, I sat on the edge of the bed with the room-service tray in front of me.
The soup had formed a skin.
I peeled it back with the spoon and ate anyway.
My phone lit up again.
Patricia.
I almost ignored it.
Then a text followed.
Before you decide I stole from you, ask your grandmother why the money was sent through me instead of directly to you.
I read it twice.
Another message appeared.
Ask her what she demanded in return.
My appetite disappeared.
I called Grandma.
She answered after one ring.
“Claire?”
“What did you demand?”
Silence.
That was enough to make my heart speed up.
“Grandma.”
“Where are you?”
“At the hotel.”
“Is Lily asleep?”
“What did you demand?”
She exhaled slowly.
“I think we should discuss this tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“You don’t get to tell me everyone else lied and then decide which truth I’m allowed to hear.”
Another silence.
May you like
This one lasted longer.
Finally she said, “After Evan died, I offered to help on certain conditions.”
