Chương 10
“Mom?”
“I’m here.”
“I’m five minutes away.”
“Come in when you get here.”
“What if Dad’s there?”
“He isn’t.”
“And if he comes back?”
Margaret looked down at the loan agreement.
“We talk.”
“That sounds optimistic.”
“No.”
She rubbed the edge of the table with her thumb.
“It sounds necessary.”
Samuel arrived twelve minutes later carrying a paper grocery bag.
Margaret opened the door and looked at it.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner.”
She stared at him.
“I bought sandwiches.”
“I have food.”
“You have raw chicken.”
“How do you know that?”
“You told me three times this week you were making chicken Thursday.”
Margaret stepped aside.
“That’s unsettling.”
“You’re the one who used to text me pictures of my own refrigerator.”
She winced.
“Fair.”
Samuel put the bag on the counter.
They did not hug.
He took off his shoes out of habit, then stood in the kitchen as though he had forgotten why he came.
Margaret turned the laptop toward him.
“Sit.”
He sat.
She showed him Walter’s photograph.
Samuel leaned closer.
“That’s not the document I signed.”
Margaret studied his face.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Very sure?”
“Yes.”
He pointed at the bottom of the page.
“My signature is real.”
Margaret frowned.
“How can the document be wrong if your signature is real?”
Samuel sat back.
“Because that signature page was attached to something else.”
Margaret stared at him.
“You’re saying he reused it?”
“I think so.”
“Can he do that?”
“Legally?”
“Obviously not legally.”
“I mean physically.”
Samuel nodded slowly.
“The page I signed had almost nothing above the signature.”
Margaret enlarged the picture.
The document was three pages.
The signature was on page three.
“This could have been replaced?”
“I guess.”
“That’s a guess.”
“I know.”
“Do you have the original?”
“No.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Samuel looked down.
Margaret regretted the tone but not enough to take it back.
“Did you photograph it?”
“No.”
“Email it?”
“No.”
“Read it?”
“Not carefully.”
She stood and walked to the refrigerator.
For a few seconds she simply held the door open.
Cold air flowed against her legs.
Samuel watched from the table.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know.”
She closed it again.
“I was looking for mustard.”
“There’s mustard in the door.”
“I know where my mustard is.”
Samuel almost smiled.
Margaret took two plates from the cabinet.
They ate at the table because neither knew what else to do.
The sandwiches were turkey and Swiss.
Margaret disliked Swiss cheese but ate half anyway.
Samuel picked onions out of his sandwich and arranged them on the edge of his plate.
She had watched him do that since childhood.
“Chloe hates when you do that,” Margaret said.
Samuel looked at the onions.
“Yeah.”
“She says you should order it without onions.”
“I always forget.”
“No, you don’t.”
Samuel glanced at her.
Margaret took a sip of water.
“You like complaining about onions.”
He gave a tired smile.
“Maybe.”
The ordinary conversation hurt worse than shouting.
After a minute, Margaret asked, “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
“Probably a hotel.”
“You can stay here.”
Samuel shook his head.
“Not if Dad comes back.”
“This is your home too.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Margaret looked at him.
Samuel wiped his fingers on a napkin.
“It was when I was a kid.”
He nodded toward the hallway.
“Now it’s yours and Dad’s.”
Margaret looked toward the stairs.
“I’m not sure whose it is anymore.”
Samuel stopped eating.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because the loan doesn’t mean you’re losing the house.”
“You don’t know that.”
“We’ll fix it.”
Margaret’s fork clicked against her plate.
Samuel closed his eyes.
“Bad choice of words.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll pay it back.”
“You don’t have a hundred and twelve thousand dollars.”
“I can refinance.”
“Your apartment has a mortgage.”
“I can sell investments.”
“What investments?”
Samuel hesitated.
Margaret looked at him.
“Exactly.”
“I have retirement.”
“You’re not destroying your retirement to cover something your father may have stolen.”
“Some of it was for me.”
“Eighty-six thousand was.”
“Yes.”
“And I expect you to repay what you actually borrowed.”
Samuel stared at her.
Margaret surprised herself too.
“But I’m not letting guilt turn you into another man making financial decisions for me.”
His eyes lowered.
“All right.”
She pushed her plate away.
“Tomorrow I’m calling the lender.”
“I’ll come.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“I need to hear what they tell me without you translating it.”
“I wasn’t going to translate.”
“You translate everything.”
He frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you decide which parts people can handle.”
Samuel sat back.
“That sounds like Dad.”
“Yes.”
His face tightened.
Margaret regretted that one.
This time she corrected herself.
“That was unfair.”
“No.”
He looked down at his hands.
“It wasn’t.”
The garage door rumbled beneath them.
Both froze.
Samuel stood.
Margaret’s pulse jumped.
Walter’s car entered the garage.
The motor stopped.
A door slammed.
Samuel moved toward the hallway.
Margaret caught his wrist.
“Don’t.”
“He shouldn’t be here.”
“He lives here.”
“He stole from you.”
“We don’t know everything yet.”
Samuel stared at her.
“You’re defending him?”
“No.”
“Sounds like it.”
Margaret released his wrist.
“I’m refusing to convict him of things I haven’t proved.”
“He cheated on you.”
“That part is proved.”
“He lied about the money.”
“That part is proved.”
“What else do you need?”
“The rest.”
The mudroom door opened.
Walter entered carrying an overnight bag.
He stopped when he saw Samuel.
“Of course.”
Samuel folded his arms.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I knew she’d call you.”
Margaret looked at the bag.
“Where were you going?”
Walter set it down.
“A hotel.”
“Why come back?”
“Clothes.”
He glanced at Samuel.
“And because this needs to stop before the two of you build some ridiculous conspiracy.”
Samuel laughed.
“You sent Mom a fake loan agreement.”
Walter’s expression did not change.
“It isn’t fake.”
“That isn’t what I signed.”
“It is exactly what you signed.”
“No.”
“You were in bad shape, Sam.”
“Don’t call me Sam.”
May you like
Walter blinked.
Samuel had never objected to the nickname before.
