Chương 11
“I shouldn't have said it like that.”
“No.”
“But?”
“But maybe.”
I rubbed my palms against my robe.
“I kept thinking if I made things easier for everyone, then everyone would be happier when I was around.”
Vanessa looked at me for a long time.
“That is very messed up.”
“Yes.”
“Like, deeply.”
“Thank you.”
“I'm serious.”
“I know.”
She gave me a small, sad smile.
Then she leaned back on the railing.
“I think I did the opposite.”
“What?”
“I made people help me so I wouldn't have to find out whether I could do things myself.”
I studied her.
She shrugged.
“Apparently this is confession balcony.”
She laughed.
It sounded like the laugh she had when we were younger, before every conversation became an accounting exercise.
The sound made something in my chest ache.
Then her phone buzzed.
She checked it.
“Mom.”
“You should answer.”
She didn't.
“She'll worry.”
“She's already worried.”
“Still.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“You defend her a lot.”
“She defends everyone.”
“Not you.”
I had no answer for that.
The phone stopped.
A second later, it buzzed again.
Vanessa groaned and answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
I could hear my mother's voice, too faint to make out words.
“No, I'm with Millie.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“No, Dad is not coming up here.”
Vanessa looked at me.
Her eyebrows rose.
“No, because she doesn't want him here.”
Mom's voice sharpened through the speaker.
Vanessa walked farther down the balcony.
“No, I'm not taking sides.”
She listened.
Then her face changed.
“What do you mean Denise left?”
I straightened.
Vanessa looked at me.
“What?”
She listened again.
“Where would she go?”
Another pause.
“Okay, stop.”
Her voice became firmer.
“Stop talking over me.”
I walked closer.
“What happened?”
Vanessa held up one finger.
“Mom, when did you last see her?”
She listened.
“An hour ago?”
Her eyes closed briefly.
“Did she take her phone?”
Another pause.
“Okay.”
She ended the call.
“What?”
“Denise is gone.”
“Gone where?”
“They don't know.”
“We're on a ship.”
“I am aware.”
“Did she go ashore?”
“Mom doesn't know.”
“What happened?”
Vanessa rubbed both hands over her face.
“Dad and Denise had a fight at breakfast.”
“About?”
“You.”
“Of course.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“About him.”
I waited.
Vanessa continued.
“Denise told him he should pay you back.”
That surprised me.
“For the business loan?”
“For everything.”
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
“She apparently started listing things.”
“What things?”
“Money Mom borrowed.”
“My loan.”
“Stuff you paid for when Grandma was sick.”
My throat tightened.
“Denise knew about that?”
“Apparently.”
I had paid nearly nine thousand dollars during Grandma's last year.
Home health aides.
Prescription copays.
A hospital transport Mom said insurance would reimburse.
Nobody had ever discussed reimbursement.
Grandma died fourteen months later.
After the funeral, mentioning money felt disgusting.
So I didn't.
“What else?”
Vanessa looked uncomfortable.
“She said Dad had been telling people he covered those costs.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“She said that's what he told Uncle Mark.”
I stared at her.
There are moments when anger arrives hot.
This wasn't one.
This came cold.
Very cold.
“He told people he paid for Grandma's care?”
“I don't know exactly what he said.”
“Denise does.”
“Yes.”
I went inside and reached for my phone.
Vanessa followed.
“Who are you calling?”
“Denise.”
“She isn't answering Mom.”
“She might answer me.”
I dialed.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Voicemail.
I hung up.
Vanessa watched me.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this stopped being about a cruise.”
“It was never about a cruise.”
I looked at her.
She was right.
That annoyed me.
Then my phone rang.
Denise.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“Good morning to you too.”
Her voice sounded breathless but not frightened.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Mom said you disappeared.”
“I walked off the ship.”
“What?”
“I needed air.”
“You left without telling anyone?”
“I am fifty-eight years old, Millie.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It is at fifty-eight.”
Behind her, I heard traffic and voices.
She was somewhere in Nassau.
“Where are you?”
“Near the straw market.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Denise.”
“Oh, don't start.”
I closed my eyes.
Vanessa whispered, “Is she okay?”
I nodded.
Denise said, “Is Vanessa there?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm tired of repeating myself.”
My stomach tightened.
“Repeating what?”
There was a long pause.
When she spoke again, her voice had changed.
“Your father has been borrowing money from more people than you.”
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“How many people?”
Denise exhaled into the receiver.
“I don't know.”
“That doesn't sound good.”
“It isn't.”
Vanessa came closer.
“Put her on speaker.”
I did.
Denise's voice filled the room.
“I knew about Mark.”
“Uncle Mark?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Ten.”
“Thousand?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
I sat down.
“When?”
“Last summer.”
Dad had borrowed fourteen thousand from me three years earlier and another ten from Uncle Mark last summer.
Then he had asked me for twenty-five thousand in January.
The numbers began arranging themselves in my head whether I wanted them to or not.
“What did he tell Mark?”
“That a customer was late paying.”
“Same story he told me.”
“I figured.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Did Mark get paid back?”
Denise didn't answer right away.
“No.”
A cold pressure settled behind my ribs.
“Anyone else?”
“There was a guy from church.”
I closed my eyes.
“Name?”
“Dennis Parker.”
“How much?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Does Mom know?”
“I think she knows some of it.”
“Some?”
Denise's voice sharpened.
“Millie, your father doesn't exactly publish quarterly reports.”
Despite everything, that almost made me smile.
Vanessa did not.
“What happened at breakfast?”
Denise sighed.
“He started in about you being vindictive.”
“Of course.”
“I told him he was lucky you hadn't canceled the whole trip.”
“What did he say?”
“That you owed the family this vacation after making everyone miserable.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
May you like
Vanessa muttered, “Jesus.”
“I told him he was full of it.”
