Chương 5
She laughed.
“You’ve been saying it for years.”
“Saying what?”
“That Daryl got more help because of medical school.”
I looked at my father.
He stared at Jenna.
My mother whispered her name, but Jenna was past stopping.
“He got tuition help, the condo down payment, everything.”
“The condo down payment was a loan,” I said.
“You paid it back after becoming a surgeon.”
“Yes.”
“How convenient.”
“Jenna.”
My mother’s voice finally sharpened.
Jenna turned on her.
“What?”
“You were offered the same tuition help.”
“For a degree Dad approved of.”
“For any degree.”
“That is not how it felt.”
My father looked suddenly older.
“We paid for four years of college.”
“You paid for the safe version of my life.”
Nobody answered that.
For the first time since Caroline arrived, Jenna’s anger looked less like entitlement and more like something that had been waiting a long time for an address.
She rubbed beneath one eye with the heel of her hand.
“I’m not saying I handled this perfectly.”
Mark stared at her.
“That might be the understatement of the decade.”
She ignored him.
“But every time Daryl buys something, everybody acts like he earned oxygen.”
I felt the old instinct to defend myself rise.
Six years of extra shifts.
Missed vacations.
Investments.
Bonuses.
All the arithmetic I had carried silently as proof that I deserved what I owned.
Then Eli picked up his broken boat again.
The argument suddenly seemed much larger and much smaller than money.
I looked at Jenna.
“You can resent me.”
Her face tightened.
“You can resent Mom and Dad.”
My mother started to speak, but I held up a hand.
“You can think everything was unfair.”
Jenna swallowed.
“But you cannot make my children pay for it.”
She looked at Eli.
He looked away.
That hurt her.
I could tell because her entire posture changed.
Not enough for an apology.
Not yet.
But enough that she stopped fighting for a second.
Caroline waited near the sliding door with professional patience.
Outside, one of the buyers was photographing the ocean with his phone.
The photographer had begun wiping sand from his shoes against the mat.
Life kept moving.
Mark picked up two suitcases.
“I’m taking these to the car.”
Jenna did not stop him.
My father reached for another.
Then my mother stood and quietly began gathering Eli’s clothes from the hallway floor.
My mother folded the shirts one by one even though they had already been folded before Jenna dropped them.
She smoothed each one across her thigh and placed it carefully into Eli’s open backpack.
Nobody thanked her.
Nobody stopped her either.
My father carried a suitcase toward the driveway, then came back for another without looking at me.
The twins appeared in the hall wearing matching swim trunks and expressions that had shifted from confusion to suspicion.
“Are we going home?” one asked.
Mark paused with a duffel bag over his shoulder.
“Looks like it.”
“Why?”
Mark glanced at Jenna.
She was still standing by the island, arms folded so tightly that her fingers had gone pale.
“We just are.”
The other twin pointed toward Eli.
“Did he tell on us?”
Eli’s shoulders lifted.
“No.”
“You broke his boat,” Zoe said.
Her voice was small but steady.
The twin looked at the floor.
“It was an accident.”
“You kicked it.”
“I didn’t know it would break.”
Zoe stared at him for a second, then returned to eating the last peanut butter cracker.
The argument between adults had shrunk around that exchange.
I watched the boy shift his weight from one bare foot to the other.
He was eleven.
Old enough to know he had done something wrong.
Young enough to have spent most of his life learning which wrong things mattered by watching whether adults cared.
“Pick up your towel,” Mark told him.
The boy obeyed.
Jenna finally moved.
She crossed to the sink, poured out the rest of her wine, and rinsed the glass.
The gesture surprised me more than anything she had said.
She dried her hands on a dish towel.
“What happens to the money?”
My father stopped near the doorway.
“What money?”
“The twenty-five.”
Mark shut his eyes.
“Jen.”
“What?”
“You cannot seriously be asking that first.”
“I’m asking because they brought it up.”
My mother looked at her.
“You said the patio contractor needed a deposit.”
“He did.”
“What contractor?” I asked.
Jenna looked away.
That was enough.
I walked toward the patio doors.
Outside, Caroline was speaking quietly with the buyers near the steps.
I opened the door and asked whether she could give us another ten minutes.
She studied my face.
“Of course.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She led the buyers down toward the lower terrace.
When I came back inside, Jenna was scrolling through her phone.
“Show me the contractor.”
She looked up.
“Excuse me?”
“The name of the contractor you paid with Mom and Dad’s money.”
She stared at me.
“I don’t have to show you anything.”
My father set down the suitcase he was carrying.
“Yes, you do.”
She turned toward him.
“Dad.”
“You told us it was for this house.”
“It was.”
“Then show him.”
Her thumb stopped moving.
For several seconds she said nothing.
Mark dropped the duffel bag beside the wall.
“Oh, come on.”
Jenna’s eyes flashed.
“Stay out of it.”
“I’m your husband.”
“Exactly.”
He looked at her as though the answer had physically struck him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t need you joining a tribunal.”
“No one’s holding a tribunal.”
“You all are.”
She pointed at me.
“He gets a realtor and a deed and suddenly everybody becomes a witness.”
I stepped closer.
“Did you pay a contractor?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
She exhaled hard.
“Luis.”
“Last name?”
“I don’t know.”
Mark laughed in disbelief.
“You gave twenty-five grand to a man whose last name you don’t know?”
“It wasn’t twenty-five.”
My mother froze.
“How much was it?”
May you like
Jenna looked at the counter.
“How much?”
