Chương 8
“Of course I am.”
She got into the silver sedan and drove away with the rear passenger door not fully closed. The dashboard chimed as she turned onto Maplewood Lane.
Daniel stood in the driveway watching her go.
I looked up at Lily.
“Take Noah back upstairs.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“Dad is.”
Daniel turned.
“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.”
“You sound mad.”
“I’m having a difficult day.”
“So is Mom.”
Her voice was flat and startlingly adult.
She disappeared into the hallway.
Daniel sat on the porch step.
The divorce papers remained on the kitchen island. My clothes lay on the lawn. Mr. Meyers spoke quietly with Mara near the black sedan, giving us space without pretending not to watch.
I sat two steps above Daniel.
He did not look at me.
“Do you remember our first apartment?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“The radiator screamed all night.”
“It needed bleeding.”
“We didn’t know what that meant.”
“You called the fire department.”
“I smelled metal.”
“You told them I was pregnant.”
“You were.”
“Six months later.”
He laughed once.
I hated that the memory still belonged to both of us.
“We were happy,” he said.
“Sometimes.”
“I loved you.”
“Past tense?”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I don’t know what tense anything is.”
A car slowed at the curb. Mrs. Paley pretended to check her mailbox.
Daniel watched her.
“This neighborhood will know by dinner.”
“They probably knew before I did.”
He flinched.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.”
He looked toward the open suitcases.
“I’ll bring your clothes inside.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“You packed them. You can unpack them.”
“That’s what I meant.”
“No. You can put every item back where you found it.”
He looked at me then.
“You want me to fold your underwear?”
“I want you to understand that your actions don’t disappear because you regret the audience.”
He nodded slowly.
“That sounds like Margaret.”
“Maybe she had a point sometimes.”
He went onto the lawn and began gathering clothes.
Mrs. Paley stopped pretending. She walked across the street wearing gardening gloves and carrying an empty mailbox flyer.
“Everything okay?” she called.
“No,” I said.
Daniel picked up one of my bras.
Mrs. Paley’s eyes moved to it, then back to my face.
“Do you need anything?”
“Could the kids stay with you for an hour?”
“Of course.”
Daniel straightened.
“They don’t need to leave.”
“They need dinner.”
“I can make dinner.”
“What were you planning to make after Vanessa moved in?”
His face tightened.
Mrs. Paley looked toward her own house.
“I have chicken,” she said. “And those little potatoes Lily likes.”
I went upstairs to get the children.
Noah had fallen asleep on Lily’s bed, one shoe still on. Lily sat beside him with my phone charger wrapped around her fingers.
“Mrs. Paley invited you to dinner.”
“Are you leaving?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“I promise I will be here when you come back.”
She looked toward the window. From there, she could see Daniel carrying clothes into the house.
“Is Dad staying?”
“For now.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t decided what happens next.”
“Can’t the lawyer decide?”
“No.”
Lily frowned.
“Then what is he for?”
Despite everything, I smiled.
“To tell me what my choices are.”
She considered that.
“Do you have to pick tonight?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She woke Noah by pulling off his remaining shoe. He complained until she told him Mrs. Paley had chocolate milk.
After they left, the house became too quiet.
Daniel carried the last suitcase upstairs. Mr. Meyers returned to the dining room with me.
“You are not required to let him stay,” he said.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t want the children to see security remove their father.”
“That is reasonable.”
“Is it weak?”
“No.”
“Margaret would think so.”
“Margaret considered most forms of patience inefficient.”
I folded the divorce complaint and placed it inside a plastic grocery bag.
“Can payroll be covered without giving Daniel access to money?”
“Likely.”
“I want it covered.”
Mr. Meyers studied me.
“Before you decide, you need to understand that emergency funding may reduce leverage and complicate recovery.”
“Employees shouldn’t become leverage.”
“No. But money sent into a compromised company can disappear.”
“Then don’t send it into the company.”
“That is possible. Whitmore could acquire the payroll obligations directly or arrange a supervised bridge, subject to board approval.”
“Do that.”
“You do not yet know the cost.”
“I know what missing a paycheck costs.”
He did not argue.
“I’ll convene the board tonight.”
“Can that happen?”
“Remotely. Not elegantly.”
“Nothing has been elegant today.”
He allowed himself a small smile.
Mara remained downstairs while I changed the passwords on my email, banking app, and phone account. Daniel had known most of them. I had used the children’s birthdays because I believed the danger came from strangers.
When I opened our joint checking account, the balance was $2,184.
It should have been more than twenty thousand.
I searched transactions.
Two weeks earlier, Daniel had transferred eighteen thousand dollars to an account ending in 7301.
I called him into the room.
“What is this?”
He glanced at the screen.
“Legal retainer.”
“For Charles Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“Show me the invoice.”
“I don’t have it here.”
“Who owns the account?”
“The firm.”
“Then you won’t mind if the bank verifies it.”
He stared at me.
“Don’t start treating me like a criminal.”
“You emptied our account.”
“I moved less than half.”
“You left mortgage money for a house without a mortgage.”
“We have expenses.”
“So does your lawyer. Apparently.”
I called the bank’s fraud department. The representative could not reverse the transfer without an investigation because Daniel was an authorized account holder. She could, however, restrict further outgoing transfers and create separate access credentials.
Daniel listened from the doorway.
When the call ended, he said, “You just froze the account I use to pay household bills.”
“I restricted transfers.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
He laughed bitterly.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
May you like
“The wealthy widow.”
“My aunt died. I’m not her widow.”
