Chương 5
Her son was drowning in debt less than twenty minutes away.
Neither fact made the other simpler.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
Matthew looked up.
“For what?”
“Help.”
His laugh this time was softer.
“Because I thought you had maybe two hundred grand and a paid-off house. I wasn’t going to take your retirement because I got laid off.”
Something in Suzanne loosened.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But the story in the room changed again.
Brooke shook her head.
“So we found another solution.”
Suzanne turned toward her.
“You found my house.”
“I found equity that was sitting there doing nothing.”
“It was housing me.”
“You could have lived somewhere safer.”
“And paid you twenty-five thousand dollars on the way out.”
Brooke stood.
“I was going to tell you about the consulting arrangement.”
“When?”
“After closing.”
Vance coughed into his fist.
Brooke glared at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Say it.”
He looked at her.
“After closing is generally a poor time to disclose an incentive affecting the person who advised the seller.”
“I wasn’t her agent.”
“I know.”
“That matters.”
“It does.”
Brooke looked relieved for half a second.
Then Vance added, “Not in the way you think.”
Suzanne stood.
“Enough.”
Everyone looked at her.
She was suddenly tired of her own living room.
Tired of money.
Tired of documents.
Tired of watching three adults use careful language to move shame from one chair to another.
“Matthew, take Brooke home.”
He stared at her.
“Mom—”
“Please.”
“What about the envelope?”
“You didn’t want to open it.”
His eyes moved to the sealed document.
Brooke’s did too.
Suzanne almost laughed at the difference.
Matthew looked at his wife.
“We should go.”
Brooke remained still.
“You’re really throwing us out?”
“No,” Suzanne said. “I’m asking you to leave.”
“That is the same thing.”
“No. If I were throwing you out, I’d enjoy it more.”
Vance looked down at his tea.
Matthew made the smallest choking sound.
Brooke stared at Suzanne.
To Suzanne’s surprise, the younger woman almost smiled.
Almost.
Then the anger returned.
“Fine.”
She collected her purse.
Matthew reached for the sale papers.
Suzanne stopped him.
“Leave those.”
He did.
Brooke walked toward the front door.
At the threshold she turned.
“This wasn’t a scam.”
Suzanne met her eyes.
“I didn’t call it one.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I’m thinking many things.”
Brooke’s nostrils flared.
Matthew opened the door.
Cold damp air entered the room.
He paused beside Suzanne.
“Can I call you later?”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
His face softened with relief.
“Will you answer?”
“I don’t know.”
The relief disappeared.
He nodded once.
“That’s fair.”
After the door closed, Suzanne stood listening to their footsteps cross the porch.
A car door opened.
Another slammed.
The engine started.
She did not look through the window.
Vance stayed in his chair.
For nearly a minute neither of them spoke.
Then Suzanne said, “You knew about the job.”
“Yes.”
She turned.
“How?”
“He called me six weeks ago.”
The floor seemed to shift.
“Matthew called you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vance folded his hands.
“He wanted to know whether your ranch still existed.”
Suzanne stared at him.
“He knew?”
“He suspected.”
The hollow place beneath her ribs opened again.
Vance continued before she could speak.
“He remembered Blackwood. Not the value. Not the ownership structure. Just the place. He asked whether Daniel’s family had sold it.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That it was not my information to share.”
Suzanne walked to the window.
Matthew’s car was gone.
Rain blurred the street.
“He never mentioned it.”
“No.”
“Did Brooke know he called?”
“I don’t know.”
Suzanne turned.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“He asked me not to.”
“And you agreed?”
Vance did not defend himself.
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
A hot, clean anger finally arrived.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You let me sit here and believe he had no idea.”
“I let you make your own decision based on how he behaved toward you.”
“That decision was based on incomplete information.”
“All decisions are.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“No.”
His refusal to argue made her angrier.
She walked toward the coffee table and picked up the envelope.
“What exactly did he ask?”
Vance looked at it.
“He asked whether the ranch belonged to you.”
“And?”
“I told him I couldn’t discuss your assets.”
“Then?”
“He asked whether you were financially secure.”
Suzanne waited.
Vance’s mouth tightened.
“I told him you would never be dependent on him.”
The sentence cut through her anger.
She sat down.
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Good.’”
Suzanne looked at the envelope.
“Good?”
“He sounded relieved.”
She tried to fit that beside the sale papers.
It did not fit.
Vance saw her struggling.
“There’s more.”
She looked up.
“He asked whether I knew anything about selling the Seattle house.”
Her fingers tightened around the envelope.
“What did you say?”
“That if you intended to sell, you’d tell me.”
“And he said?”
Vance paused.
“He said Brooke thought it was the only way to keep them from losing their house.”
Suzanne closed her eyes.
The room was suddenly very quiet.
“You could have told me this Tuesday.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because you told me not to interfere unless someone put papers in front of you.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
He rubbed his jaw.
“No.”
She waited.
Vance looked older than he had when he entered.
“Daniel made me promise something a long time ago.”
Suzanne’s eyes opened.
“What?”
“If Matthew ever came asking about money after Daniel was gone, I was supposed to make sure you didn’t answer too quickly.”
She stared at him.
“Daniel said that?”
“He said Matthew would rather drown than ask for a rope if he thought the rope belonged to you.”
Suzanne looked down.
That sounded so exactly like her husband that for a moment she hated him for being dead.
Vance leaned back.
“Daniel was worried you’d save Matthew from every mistake.”
May you like
“I did not.”
“He thought you would.”
