Chương 8
Rebecca was not simply the woman who had come to replace her.
She had warned Daniel about money.
Daniel was not simply a man planning to abandon his wife for another woman.
He had been trying to keep a failing company alive.
Those facts did not excuse him.
They complicated Laura’s anger.
She preferred uncomplicated anger.
It required less maintenance.
Melissa called almost every day.
At first Laura ignored half the calls.
Then she answered one while standing in a grocery store comparing two jars of pasta sauce.
“I’m not ready to forgive you,” Laura said.
“I didn’t ask.”
“Good.”
“I wanted to tell you Daniel called Mom.”
Laura closed her eyes.
Their mother had died twelve years ago.
Melissa corrected herself immediately.
“I mean Aunt Carol. God. I’m losing my mind.”
Laura laughed before she could stop herself.
Melissa laughed too.
They stood in different places laughing at a dead woman by accident.
Then Melissa said, “He’s telling people you set him up.”
The laughter ended.
“How?”
“He says you knew the business was failing and waited until he made a mistake so you could take everything.”
Laura put the sauce back on the shelf.
“Does he believe that?”
“I think he needs to.”
That answer followed Laura home.
At the end of August, Rebecca asked to meet.
Laura nearly refused.
Maya said, “You don’t have to.”
That made Laura agree.
They met at a coffee shop halfway between Laura’s house and Rebecca’s apartment.
Rebecca arrived early.
She had cut her hair.
Laura disliked noticing.
They ordered coffee and sat outside because neither wanted to be trapped at a small table indoors.
Rebecca kept both hands around her cup.
“I’m sorry.”
Laura looked toward traffic.
“For what?”
“All of it.”
“That’s broad.”
“I know.”
A truck passed.
Rebecca swallowed.
“Daniel told me you two had been separated inside the house for almost a year.”
Laura said nothing.
“He said you had separate bedrooms.”
“We didn’t.”
“He said you were moving after the conference.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
Laura looked at her.
“Did you love him?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled, then cleared.
“I thought I did.”
Laura wished the answer had been easier to hate.
“Did you know about the deed?”
Rebecca nodded.
“He told me you had signed the house to him as part of the separation.”
“Did you see my signature?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever see me sign anything?”
“No.”
“Did he tell you how he got it?”
“He said his lawyer handled it.”
Laura almost smiled.
“Which lawyer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Daniel didn’t have a lawyer.”
Rebecca stared at her coffee.
“I know that now too.”
They sat quietly.
A man at the next table tried to open a packet of sweetener and tore it down the middle. Half went onto his pants. He muttered something and brushed it away.
Laura found herself watching him because it was easier than looking at Rebecca.
Finally Rebecca said, “There’s something else.”
Laura’s stomach tightened.
“Of course there is.”
Rebecca almost laughed.
She didn’t.
“In July, Daniel asked me to print some documents at the office.”
“What documents?”
“A deed. A power of attorney. Bank forms.”
Laura became still.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I worked for him.”
“That isn’t why.”
Rebecca looked up.
“You’re right.”
Laura waited.
Rebecca’s voice dropped.
“Because by then I was involved with him, and once you’re involved with somebody who keeps saying everything is almost fixed, you start helping with the fixing.”
Laura understood that sentence too well.
“What did the power of attorney say?”
“I didn’t read all of it.”
“Did you see the date?”
“No.”
“The one he had was expired.”
Rebecca nodded slowly.
“He told me it was still valid.”
“Did he alter it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you notarize anything?”
Rebecca looked offended.
“No. I’m not a notary.”
Laura felt embarrassed by the accusation.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Rebecca looked at her.
Laura continued, “I don’t want to turn you into the explanation for what he did.”
Rebecca’s mouth tightened.
“I made choices too.”
“Yes.”
They sat with that.
No absolution.
No friendship.
No convenient sisterhood.
Before they left, Rebecca forwarded several work emails to Laura’s attorney.
One included a scan of the quitclaim deed before submission.
Metadata showed the file had been created on Daniel’s office computer on a day Laura was teaching an eight-hour continuing education course forty miles away.
That did not prove who wrote the signature.
But it narrowed the story.
The investigation continued.
So did the divorce.
Laura filed in September.
She cried after signing the petition.
Not because she doubted the decision.
Because the form reduced nineteen years to boxes.
Date of marriage.
Date of separation.
Property.
Debts.
No children of the marriage.
She stared at that line longer than the others.
Laura and Daniel had tried for children for four years.
Two miscarriages.
One failed round of fertility treatment.
Then her spinal surgery.
Then enough time passed that trying became a subject they both learned to avoid.
Daniel had wanted to adopt.
Laura had hesitated.
Later she wanted to revisit it.
Daniel had stopped mentioning it.
They never fought about children.
That was almost worse.
Some grief had simply moved into the house and learned their routines.
In October, Daniel called her directly for the first time in weeks.
She almost let it go to voicemail.
Then answered.
“What?”
He was silent.
“Daniel?”
“The company is closing.”
Laura sat down on the stairs.
“When?”
“Friday.”
“I’m sorry.”
He laughed without humor.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“You hated it.”
“I hated what it did to you.”
“You think that’s different?”
“Yes.”
He breathed into the phone.
Laura could hear traffic behind him.
“I built that company from nothing.”
“I know.”
“Fourteen years.”
“I know.”
“Six families depended on me.”
Laura closed her eyes.
She had expected him to say employees.
Families was more like Daniel.
His best qualities and worst qualities often came from the same place.
May you like
Responsibility became control.
Confidence became certainty.
