Chương 6
“Ten.”
The room went very still.
My father’s face darkened.
“Ten thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Where is the other fifteen?”
Jenna said nothing.
Mark took one step backward.
It was a small movement, but it changed the space between them.
My mother gripped the back of the chair.
“Jenna.”
“I was going to replace it.”
“With what?”
“I told you I was going to figure it out.”
My father’s voice turned low.
“That is not an answer.”
She rubbed both palms over her face.
“Our contractor at home needed another payment.”
Mark stared at her.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“The cabinets were already ordered.”
“No.”
“We were going to lose the deposit.”
“You told me your parents loaned us eight thousand for the cabinets.”
“They did.”
Mark went completely still.
I could see him adding numbers.
“You told me eight.”
“I know.”
“You told me eight, Jenna.”
“I know what I told you.”
“So where did the rest go?”
She looked at him.
The anger drained out of her face so quickly that something close to fear appeared beneath it.
“Mark.”
“Where?”
She swallowed.
“The cards.”
He did not seem to understand at first.
Then he did.
“What cards?”
She pressed her lips together.
His voice became quieter.
“What cards?”
My mother sat down again.
My father did not move.
One of the twins appeared at the end of the hall and Mark pointed toward the guest room without looking away from Jenna.
“Go help your brother pack.”
The boy disappeared.
Jenna crossed her arms again.
“It got away from me.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
Mark laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You know exactly.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You always know exactly.”
She stared at him.
He picked up his phone.
“What’s the balance?”
“Don’t.”
“What is the balance?”
“Mark.”
He unlocked the screen and started tapping.
She moved toward him.
“Give me that.”
He held the phone away.
“It’s our account.”
“Not here.”
“Where would you prefer?”
“Not in front of everyone.”
He stopped.
For the first time, I felt like I was watching something I had no right to watch.
I turned toward the hallway.
“Take it outside.”
Mark looked at me.
The anger in his face softened by one degree.
“Yeah.”
He nodded.
“Yeah, okay.”
Jenna did not move.
“Come on,” he said.
She looked at our parents.
Neither offered rescue.
Then she followed him out through the side door.
My father sat down heavily.
My mother kept folding a shirt that was already perfectly flat.
I leaned against the island.
Nobody spoke for almost a minute.
The refrigerator clicked off.
Somewhere outside, a gull screamed.
My father rubbed his palms together.
“I should have asked you.”
I looked at him.
“About what?”
“The money.”
“All of it.”
He nodded.
“All of it.”
My first impulse was to make him say more.
To make him name every assumption, every conversation, every time he had accepted Jenna’s version because questioning it would have required choosing discomfort.
Instead, I looked at Eli.
He had set the broken boat on the table and was fitting the mast against the split wood.
“It won’t stay,” he said.
“We need glue.”
“Wood glue?”
“Probably epoxy.”
He frowned.
“Is that stronger?”
“Usually.”
My father watched us.
Then he looked toward the sliding doors.
“I thought she’d talked to you.”
“You didn’t think very hard.”
He winced.
It was crueler than I intended.
I did not take it back.
My mother folded the last shirt and pushed the stack into the backpack.
“She made it sound settled.”
“That seems to be the theme.”
My mother’s mouth tightened.
“You don’t have to be sarcastic.”
“I don’t know what tone you’d prefer.”
“The one where we acknowledge everyone made mistakes.”
I stared at her.
“Everyone?”
She looked down.
“Maybe that was badly phrased.”
“Yes.”
She nodded once.
“It was.”
Zoe climbed onto the chair beside her and put her chin on the table.
“Grandma, are you mad?”
My mother turned.
“No, honey.”
“You look mad.”
“I’m sad.”
“Why?”
My mother opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Zoe waited.
Children are relentless in ways adults forget because they do not know when a lie would be socially useful.
Finally my mother said, “Because grown-ups sometimes believe things they should check.”
Zoe considered this.
“Like when Daddy said the parking sign was okay and we got a ticket?”
I looked at her.
“That happened once.”
Eli smiled.
My mother laughed unexpectedly.
It was short and shaky, but real.
“Exactly like that.”
I shook my head.
“Not exactly.”
Zoe frowned.
“You said grown-ups.”
“I did.”
“So it counts.”
My father almost smiled.
For thirty seconds, the room became ordinary again.
Then Mark came through the side door alone.
He looked older than he had ten minutes earlier.
“Can I talk to you?”
He was looking at me.
I glanced toward the kids.
“Outside.”
We walked onto the front porch.
The air smelled like hot wood and salt.
Caroline and the buyers were down by the lower terrace, far enough away not to hear us.
Mark shut the door behind him.
“She has thirty-seven thousand on two cards.”
I said nothing.
“She told me we had maybe six.”
His eyes stayed on the driveway.
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
“Good.”
“I mean it.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I just need to know something.”
“What?”
“Did she actually hire somebody here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never approved patio work?”
“No.”
“Electrical?”
“No.”
“New exterior lighting?”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“She showed me invoices.”
That got my attention.
“What invoices?”
“She said your electrician needed deposits.”
“I don’t have an electrician.”
He pulled out his phone.
“I have screenshots.”
“Send them to me.”
He looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because my parents gave her money based on work she said was being done on my property.”
He hesitated.
“You thinking police?”
“No.”
“Lawyer?”
“I’m thinking facts first.”
He nodded slowly.
May you like
“That sounds like you.”
There was no compliment in it.
