Chương 13
I nodded.
He stayed.
Susan sat across from me.
Her hair was pulled into a loose knot, and she wore no makeup.
I had never seen her look so tired.
“I owe you an apology.”
The words made my shoulders tense automatically.
She noticed.
“I believed some of what Caroline told me.”
Aaron looked down.
Susan continued.
“Not all of it.”
“How much?”
“I believed you had business debt you hadn’t told Aaron about.”
“I told him.”
“I know that now.”
“And the man in New York?”
“I didn’t think you were having an affair.”
She paused.
“I wondered.”
The honesty hurt.
But I preferred it.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
She twisted the paper handle of the bakery bag around one finger.
“Because Caroline framed it like she was afraid for Aaron.”
I almost laughed.
“She was very convincing.”
“Yes.”
Susan looked embarrassed.
“And because I have my own history with money.”
I waited.
She glanced at Aaron.
He knew what was coming.
“Michael and I nearly divorced when Aaron was fourteen.”
I looked at her.
“Over money?”
“Over lies about money.”
She nodded.
“Michael had taken out a loan for his brother without telling me.”
Aaron leaned against the counter.
“I didn’t know that.”
Susan looked at him.
“You were fourteen.”
“You told me you were fighting because Dad worked too much.”
“That was part of it.”
A small silence passed between them.
Then Susan looked back at me.
“When Caroline said you were hiding debt, I reacted before I verified anything.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you asked me whether I’d sell the studio.”
“I was fishing.”
I stared at her.
She looked ashamed.
“It was cowardly.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
The directness took some of the heat out of me.
She opened the bakery bag and pulled out a blueberry muffin.
Nobody ate it.
“I left last night because I was angry with myself,” she said.
“And with Caroline.”
“And with your mother.”
Her voice softened.
“But also with Aaron.”
He straightened.
“Me?”
“You knew more than you told me.”
He nodded.
“I did.”
“You let me sit there believing pieces of a lie because you wanted to investigate quietly.”
He looked at me.
I almost smiled.
“Welcome.”
Susan followed his glance.
Some understanding passed between us.
Not forgiveness.
Something more useful.
Recognition.
She looked at her son again.
“You don’t get to protect people by controlling what they know.”
Aaron exhaled.
“I’ve received that feedback.”
My father unexpectedly laughed.
It was brief and ugly and exactly what the room needed.
Susan smiled despite herself.
Then she looked at me.
“The wedding.”
My stomach tightened.
“I’m not canceling it.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to.”
“Oh.”
She touched the edge of the muffin wrapper.
“I was going to ask whether you still want all of us there.”
I stared at her.
She meant my family.
My father looked down at the table.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s fair.”
“I don’t want my mother there.”
Saying it aloud made the room change.
My father’s face tightened, but he did not argue.
“I don’t know about Caroline.”
Aaron said nothing.
Susan nodded.
“You don’t have to decide today.”
“I know.”
I looked at my father.
He looked older than he had yesterday.
“Dad, what are you going to do?”
He knew what I meant.
About my mother.
About the marriage.
About the house they had shared for thirty-three years.
He rubbed both hands together.
“I booked another night here.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
He stared at the bank statements.
“I don’t know yet.”
For once, uncertainty sounded healthier than certainty.
My phone rang.
The screen showed a number from Knoxville.
I nearly ignored it.
Then I saw the voicemail transcription beginning beneath the missed call.
This is Martin Keller.
I believe you may have questions regarding documents created in 2017.
Everyone at the table watched my face.
I played the voicemail on speaker.
Martin’s voice sounded older than I remembered, rough around the edges.
“I received a message from Evelyn this morning telling me not to speak with you.”
My father went completely still.
Martin continued.
“That message is the reason I am calling.”
I called Martin back before anyone could talk me out of it.
He answered on the second ring.
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at Melissa’s unopened engagement letter on my laptop.
“For which part?”
“That depends on how much you know.”
“Enough.”
He exhaled.
“My records are incomplete.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It sounds terrible.”
His voice was dry.
“But it’s true.”
I stood and walked toward the windows.
Behind me, my father stayed at the table.
Aaron and Susan were quiet.
“What happened in 2017?”
Martin did not answer immediately.
“Your mother came to my office with a letter from Bellamy & Crane and said Caroline had made a serious mistake.”
“She told you I authorized her to act for me.”
“Yes.”
“Did you speak to me?”
“No.”
“Did you ask to?”
“I should have.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
The word hung there.
“Why not?”
“Because Evelyn told me you were emotionally unwell and that direct contact might worsen things.”
My father shut his eyes.
I leaned my forehead against the glass.
“Did that sound normal to you?”
“No.”
Martin’s voice roughened.
“It sounded like a mother trying to manage a family crisis.”
“So you believed her.”
“I believed too much of what she said.”
“Did you see the forged letter?”
“Not then.”
“Did you prepare the settlement authorization?”
“My office did.”
“Who signed my name?”
“I don’t know.”
I turned from the window.
“That’s not good enough.”
“No.”
He swallowed audibly.
“The draft we sent had a signature line for you.”
“And?”
“It came back signed.”
“From my mother?”
“From an email address she said you were using.”
My stomach tightened.
“Do you still have that email?”
“I found a printed copy this morning.”
May you like
“Send it to my lawyer.”
“Do you have the electronic file?”
