Chương 13
“What about him?”
“Harrison Home Solutions.”
Margaret’s face went blank.
Not confused.
Blank.
I had seen that expression on men waiting to decide whether a checkpoint story had failed.
“What is that?”
I held up the charred paper fragment.
“This.”
She barely glanced at it.
“Trash.”
“It’s a contractor you paid.”
“I told you that.”
“Who owns it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dad?”
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Paige took one step backward.
Margaret turned on her.
“What did you say?”
Paige lifted both hands.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“That was fast.”
“Mom.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Stop.”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“You had no right.”
“No right to what?”
“To go through my room.”
Paige flinched.
I stepped between them.
“You can be angry later.”
Margaret looked at me.
“This is family business.”
“I am family.”
“Not that business.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
She stared at me for several seconds.
Then she laughed once.
It was a tired laugh.
Almost disgusted.
“Your father.”
“What about him?”
“You think he left us clean?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“He didn’t.”
She stepped past me into the shed and pulled the door shut behind her.
Now all three of us stood in the dim heat.
“Robert left debts.”
“You already said that.”
“Not medical.”
I waited.
Margaret looked at Paige.
“Go inside.”
Paige did not move.
“Go.”
“No.”
Margaret’s head snapped toward her.
“I said go.”
Paige’s voice shook.
“I’m tired of leaving every time you say something important.”
For a second, Margaret looked as if she had been slapped.
Then she looked at me.
“Fine.”
She folded her arms.
“Your father used my credit before he died.”
“How?”
“Cards.”
“Loans.”
“Business accounts.”
“For what business?”
“His side work.”
“Dad fixed air conditioners.”
“He also gambled.”
The shed became very still.
I stared at her.
My father had loved baseball.
He had bought scratch-off tickets sometimes.
I had never seen him place a bet larger than twenty dollars.
“How much?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“That answer is contagious in this family.”
“More than forty thousand.”
Paige whispered, “You said twenty.”
Margaret ignored her.
“After he died, collection letters came.”
“Why wasn’t that handled through the estate?”
“Some were in my name.”
“Some weren’t.”
“What did Harrison have to do with it?”
Margaret looked toward the closed door.
“Your father had used that name before.”
“For what?”
“Cash jobs.”
“So you revived it.”
“I formalized it.”
“With his Social Security number?”
Her face tightened.
“I used information already associated with the business.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“I was trying to repair what he left.”
“By pretending a dead man owned a company?”
“I did not pretend anything.”
“What do you call it?”
“A mistake.”
Paige laughed.
Margaret turned on her.
“Don’t.”
“Dad’s been dead six years.”
“Paige.”
“You registered a company under his identity.”
“Stop saying it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
Margaret’s composure cracked.
“I was drowning.”
The words came out louder than anything she had said all morning.
Then she lowered her voice.
“I was drowning, and neither of you saw it.”
I stared at her.
“I sent nearly a hundred thousand dollars.”
“And that saved us.”
“Saved us from what?”
“Everything.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Taxes.”
“Debt.”
“Repairs.”
“Your sister.”
“Gwen.”
“Me.”
She pressed a hand to her chest.
“You think money arrives and somehow disappears into categories.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It goes into people.”
“People who need things.”
“People who fail.”
“People who panic.”
I looked at her.
“And people who buy trucks.”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
When she opened them again, there was no defense left in her face.
“Some of it got out of control.”
“Some?”
“I thought I could replace it.”
“With what?”
“The business.”
“What business?”
“Harrison.”
“What did it actually do?”
“Contracting.”
“Did it do contracting?”
“Yes.”
“For who?”
She hesitated.
“People.”
“Name one.”
Silence.
Paige stared at her.
I felt the answer before Margaret said anything.
“Harrison didn’t do real work, did it?”
Margaret’s voice dropped.
“Sometimes.”
“What does that mean?”
“It invoiced work that was subcontracted.”
“By who?”
“Other people.”
“And the invoices in my folder?”
She looked at me.
Those were for my house.
My money.
My family.
“Harrison billed you,” I said.
Margaret said nothing.
“For renovations paid with money I had already sent.”
Her eyes filled.
“Daniel.”
“So you charged the household twice.”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much?”
“Maybe thirty.”
“Thirty thousand?”
“Maybe more.”
Paige backed into the shelf.
The mug tipped and hit the concrete floor.
It shattered.
None of us moved.
I looked at Margaret.
“Where did the money go?”
She swallowed.
“Into the business.”
“Then where?”
“Debt.”
“What debt?”
She looked at Paige.
My sister’s face went white.
I turned to her.
“What?”
Paige shook her head.
“Mom.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Tell him.”
“No.”
“Paige.”
“No.”
I stepped toward my sister.
“What debt?”
Her breath came fast.
She looked at me with a kind of shame I had never seen on her.
“The business wasn’t just for Dad’s debts.”
“What else?”
Paige began to cry.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Furiously.
“I had a problem.”
“What problem?”
She wiped her face.
Margaret answered.
“Online gambling.”
I stared at Paige.
She looked away.
“How much?”
“No.”
“Paige.”
“I don’t know.”
Margaret whispered, “Forty-eight thousand.”
The number landed like a physical blow.
I sat on the lawnmower seat.
Nobody spoke.
Paige’s shoulders shook.
“I was paying it back.”
“With what?”
She laughed through tears.
“Apparently with you.”
Margaret said, “That’s not fair.”
Paige turned on her.
“It’s exactly fair.”
“You were sick.”
“I was stupid.”
“You were addicted.”
“And you covered it.”
“I was trying to help you.”
“You stole from him.”
“I was keeping you from destroying your life.”
Paige pointed toward the house.
“And what did you do to Gwen?”
Margaret went still.
Paige wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“You blamed all of it on her.”
May you like
“I did not.”
“You made us think she was draining the accounts.”
