Chương 12
Paul made a sound behind them.
“No.”
Thomas turned his head.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Do not say no like you’re surprised by your own life.”
“I didn’t know about that.”
Thomas looked back at the screen.
Claire read the lender name.
It was not the same company tied to Chloé’s apartment.
“Did you open this?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Thomas looked at her.
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“I had to ask.”
“I know.”
He opened the account details.
The listed mailing address was Marie and Paul’s house.
Claire felt anger arrive in a clean line.
Not panic.
Not confusion.
Anger.
“She used your parents’ address.”
Thomas said nothing.
Paul stood.
“Let me see.”
Thomas handed him the phone.
Paul read the entry.
His shoulders dropped.
“I’ve seen that company.”
Thomas looked at him.
“Where?”
“Letters.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“What letters?”
Paul rubbed his forehead.
“Marie said they were investment statements.”
Thomas’s face went very still.
“You opened none of them.”
“They were addressed to you.”
“So you were respectful of my privacy while my identity was being used in your house.”
Paul flinched.
Thomas immediately looked ashamed of the sentence.
Claire did not rescue either of them from it.
Paul handed the phone back.
“You’re right.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Stop saying that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.”
Paul looked at him.
“That makes two of us.”
The bitterness in Thomas’s expression eased by a fraction.
Emma returned with Léa.
She had somehow acquired a piece of tape across the back of one hand.
“Bunny needs surgery,” Léa announced.
Claire looked at the rabbit.
A seam had opened beneath one arm.
Paul looked down at it.
“I can fix that.”
Léa studied him suspiciously.
“Do you sew?”
“No.”
“Then you cannot.”
Emma turned away to hide a smile.
Paul almost smiled too.
“I have repaired things before.”
“Bunny is not a thing.”
Paul nodded solemnly.
“You’re right.”
Léa accepted that.
For the next five minutes, the room changed shape.
Emma found a sewing kit.
Claire threaded a needle because Paul could not see the eye without his reading glasses, which were apparently still at home.
Léa supervised with the severity of a surgeon.
Thomas sat at the dining table with the credit report open and did not speak.
Claire watched him from the couch.
She could tell he was reading every line.
When Bunny’s arm was repaired, Léa inspected the stitching.
“It’s ugly.”
Paul looked genuinely wounded.
Claire laughed.
Emma handed him his coffee.
“That is the first accurate criticism anyone has given today.”
Paul drank it without asking whose it was.
Then Thomas said, “There’s another one.”
Everyone turned.
He had gone pale again.
Claire stood.
“What?”
“A store financing account.”
“How much?”
“Eight thousand.”
“Open or closed?”
“Closed last year.”
Paul stared.
Thomas looked at him.
“Same address.”
Paul sat down.
Claire went to Thomas and read over his shoulder.
The account had been opened five years earlier.
Payments had been made for four years, then the balance had been cleared.
Thomas scrolled to the notes.
There was no indication what had been purchased.
Emma crossed her arms.
“Could be furniture.”
Paul’s eyes lifted.
Claire caught it.
“What?”
Paul looked at her.
“Marie redid the kitchen.”
Thomas laughed softly.
It was an awful sound.
“When?”
“Five years ago.”
“How much?”
Paul did not answer.
Thomas looked at him.
“The cabinets alone were expensive.”
“Dad.”
“I don’t know the exact amount.”
Thomas stood again.
Claire saw the panic underneath his anger now.
He was doing mental arithmetic.
Six years of transfers.
The apartment deposit.
The personal credit line.
The store financing.
Maybe estate money.
Maybe more.
The numbers were starting to become too large to feel real.
Claire reached for his hand.
He pulled away before realizing it.
Then he looked at her.
“Sorry.”
She folded her arms.
“Do that again and I’m charging you twenty-five hundred a month.”
Thomas blinked.
Emma made a choking sound.
Even Paul laughed once.
The tension cracked just enough for everyone to breathe.
Thomas rubbed both hands over his face.
“I need air.”
Claire followed him outside.
They stood on Emma’s small back patio.
The cold had sharpened.
A plastic tricycle lay upside down near the fence.
Somewhere two houses over, a dog barked with the repetitive determination of something whose entire profession was barking.
Thomas put both hands in his coat pockets.
Claire stood beside him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then he said, “I feel stupid.”
Claire looked at him.
“I know.”
He turned.
“That is not what people usually say.”
“You don’t need me to tell you you’re not stupid.”
“Maybe I do.”
“No.”
She watched his face tighten.
“You made it easy.”
Thomas looked away.
“That sounds worse.”
“It isn’t meant to.”
“It does.”
Claire stepped closer.
“You trusted your mother with things you shouldn’t have trusted her with.”
He said nothing.
“You ignored warning signs.”
Nothing.
“You kept money from me.”
His eyes moved toward her.
“You defended her when she treated me badly.”
He swallowed.
“And?”
“And none of that means you signed a loan you didn’t sign.”
Thomas stared at the fence.
Claire continued.
“You can be responsible for your mistakes without adopting hers.”
He gave a tired laugh.
“There’s the therapist again.”
“She charges more than twenty-five hundred.”
He looked at her.
This time he actually smiled.
Then it disappeared.
“I lied to you.”
Claire’s shoulders tightened.
“About the inheritance.”
“Yes.”
“About the payments.”
“Yes.”
“For five years.”
“Yes.”
The word hurt more because he did not soften it.
Claire looked toward the kitchen window.
Through the glass, she could see Léa sitting on Paul’s lap while he moved Bunny’s repaired arm up and down.
Paul looked terrified of touching the toy incorrectly.
“I don’t know what to do with that yet.”
Thomas nodded.
“I know.”
“I’m not promising it doesn’t matter because your mother did something worse.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Good.”
May you like
He looked at her.
“I was ashamed of the money.”
