Chương 8
"Move."
Derek shook his head.
"No."
His father stared at him.
"You think I'm going to hit her?"
"I don't know what you think anymore."
Richard's mouth opened.
Then closed.
Derek looked miserable after saying it.
I understood that feeling.
There are things you spend years refusing to imagine about a parent because imagining them changes the shape of your own childhood.
Once the possibility enters, every old memory develops a second version.
Mom stood.
"We're going to the bank Monday morning."
Richard laughed.
"With what authority?"
"The box is in my name."
His face tightened.
"Joint."
"No."
She held his gaze.
"I changed that too."
Something almost like admiration flickered across my mind, followed immediately by anger that she had been capable of protecting a box while failing to protect me.
The contradiction made me tired.
I picked up my purse.
"I need to leave."
Mom's head turned.
"Thea."
"I need air."
"We can go somewhere."
"No."
Her face fell.
I softened my voice despite myself.
"I just need to not be in a room with all of you for five minutes."
Derek stepped aside.
Richard gave him a disgusted look.
"Oh, now you're her bodyguard?"
Derek turned.
"No, Dad."
He looked exhausted.
"I'm just done watching you talk to everyone like we're employees you're trying not to pay."
Richard's face darkened.
For a second, I expected an explosion.
Instead, he walked to the conference table and poured himself water from a sweating glass pitcher.
His hand shook slightly.
That frightened me more than his anger had.
I left before I could study it.
The ballroom felt offensively normal.
The quartet had moved into something bright and familiar.
A server carried miniature desserts through the crowd.
Someone near the dance floor was showing another guest photos on a phone.
The silver number fifteen still glittered above the cake.
I passed the main table and saw my untouched dinner plate, the folded napkin, the empty chair I had never sat in.
A woman I didn't know touched my arm.
"Thea."
I stopped because politeness had apparently survived everything else.
She gave me an anxious smile.
"I'm Caroline Mercer."
I recognized the name.
Her husband had done legal work for several developers in Essex County.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened in there."
I looked toward the closed conference room door.
"You heard?"
Her cheeks colored.
"Not everything."
Which meant enough.
She lowered her voice.
"And I owe you an apology for earlier."
I remembered her laughing when my mother joked about the clearance rack.
"It's fine."
"No."
She gave a small, uncomfortable shake of her head.
"It wasn't."
I didn't know what to do with that.
A sincere apology from a stranger felt almost harder to accept than cruelty from family.
So I nodded.
"Thank you."
She glanced at the navy box under my arm.
"For what it's worth, I know your work."
I almost laughed.
"Apparently everyone does except my mother."
Caroline grimaced.
"That sounded funnier in my head."
"It was a little funny."
Her relief was visible.
Then she looked toward the conference room.
"If you need a referral for counsel who handles fiduciary disputes, my husband isn't the right person, but he would know who is."
The offer landed differently than the praise.
Practical.
Limited.
Useful.
I took her card.
"Thank you."
"I mean it."
She squeezed my wrist once and walked away.
Outside, the night air was cool enough to make me realize how hot the ballroom had been.
I crossed the covered terrace and stood near the stone railing overlooking the dark golf course.
Somewhere beyond the trees, sprinklers clicked on with a faint mechanical hiss.
I set the navy box on the railing and pressed both hands against the cold stone.
My phone showed six missed calls from Jonah.
I had silenced it before entering.
There were also three texts.
You alive?
Followed by, I hate that I phrased it like that.
Then, Call me when you can.
I stared at the messages longer than necessary.
Finally, I called.
He answered before the second ring.
"Hey."
That one word nearly broke me.
I looked out across the golf course.
"Hey."
"What happened?"
I laughed quietly.
"How much time do you have?"
"All of it."
I closed my eyes.
"Apparently my mother challenged Dad's life insurance after he died."
Jonah was silent.
"Richard helped her."
Still silent.
"She got most of the money."
"The money meant for you?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
His voice stayed careful.
"How much?"
"Almost seven hundred thousand after fees."
He exhaled.
I could picture him in our apartment, probably barefoot, probably standing beside the kitchen island because he always paced during difficult calls.
"Jesus."
"Some of it paid for the house."
"The house they made you leave?"
"Yep."
He muttered something I couldn't make out.
"And Derek's college."
This time the silence lasted longer.
"Thea."
"I know."
"Where are you?"
"Outside."
"Are you alone?"
"At the moment."
"Do you want me to come get you?"
My first instinct was no.
The word was already on my tongue.
Then I looked at the box on the railing.
At thirty-three, I had become very good at confusing independence with refusing help before anyone could withdraw it.
"Yes."
The answer surprised me.
Jonah did not make a big deal of it.
"Send me the address."
"I drove."
"We'll deal with the car tomorrow."
I smiled despite everything.
"Very practical."
"It's my sexiest quality."
"Debatable."
There was a pause.
Then he said, "Don't sign anything."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Don't threaten anyone."
I looked toward the ballroom windows.
"That advice is slightly late."
"Thea."
"I know."
He heard something in my voice.
"What did you do?"
"I may have reminded Richard that his company occupies my building."
Jonah groaned softly.
"Okay."
"I know."
"No, I'm not judging."
"You are absolutely judging."
"I'm professionally concerned."
"You own a ceramics studio."
"Exactly."
He paused.
"Very high standards of professional conduct."
May you like
I laughed.
It was a real laugh this time, and it hurt.
