Chương 4
Laura leaned against the brick wall.
“Morally?”
“That was the word.”
Laura laughed once.
“Richard loves words that don’t have filing fees.”
“Do you believe Daniel wrote something like that?”
She thought about her husband.
Not the dead version.
Daniel alive.
Daniel leaving wet towels on the bed.
Daniel eating shredded cheese directly from the refrigerator at midnight.
Daniel refusing to call contractors because he hated making appointments.
Daniel telling his father whatever ended an argument fastest.
Yes, Dad.
Sure, Dad.
We’ll figure it out, Dad.
Probably, Dad.
“Maybe.”
Nora was silent.
Laura rubbed her forehead.
“He might have written anything to get Richard off the phone.”
“A signed letter is harder.”
“You haven’t met Richard.”
“I met him yesterday.”
“Fair.”
Nora told her not to panic.
Laura disliked people telling her not to panic almost as much as Margaret disliked chocolate milk.
She returned to the booth.
Sophie had eaten most of Laura’s whipped cream.
Laura sat across from her.
“New rule.”
Sophie froze.
“What?”
“If you steal my whipped cream, you have to leave me at least one bite.”
Sophie grinned.
“That’s a good rule.”
At 9:42, Margaret called.
Laura watched the name vibrate across the screen.
She declined it.
Margaret called again.
Decline.
Again.
Laura blocked the number.
Thirty seconds later Richard called.
She blocked him too.
Then Jason.
Laura stared at his name.
Jason rarely called her.
For six years, their relationship had existed mostly in doorways.
You using the washer?
You seen my keys?
Dad home?
Sophie want pizza?
He had never defended Laura from his parents in any meaningful way. Occasionally he had looked embarrassed while they insulted her, which was not the same thing.
She answered.
“What?”
Jason breathed into the phone.
“Nice to hear your customer-service voice.”
“I’m busy.”
“Yeah. I figured.”
“What do you want?”
A pause.
“Dad’s letter is real.”
Laura stood so quickly the table moved.
Sophie looked up.
Laura forced herself back into the seat.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen it.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t my business.”
“It concerns the house I just sold.”
“It didn’t then.”
“Jason.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know enough.”
She looked at Sophie.
“Where are you?”
“At the house.”
“Are your parents there?”
“Mom’s on the phone with somebody. Dad left.”
“Where?”
“Lawyer, probably.”
Laura closed her eyes.
“What exactly does the letter say?”
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Try.”
“It was after Daniel got the deed. Dad was pissed. There was a whole thing.”
“What thing?”
“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
Jason muttered something.
“What?”
“I said, of course you don’t.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning nobody tells anybody anything in this family until it can be used against them.”
For once, Laura had no argument.
Jason continued.
“Grandma Evelyn left the house to Daniel because Dad had borrowed against a property she gave him before. She thought he was going to wreck everything.”
“I know that part.”
“Dad thought Daniel would transfer it back eventually.”
“Did Daniel agree?”
“He told Dad he would.”
Laura felt cold despite the heat outside.
“Why?”
“Because Dad wouldn’t stop.”
“That’s not a reason to promise away a multimillion-dollar property.”
“You married Daniel. You know how he handled Dad.”
She did.
Avoidance disguised as peacekeeping.
“What did the letter say?”
“Something like, ‘I understand this house belongs with the family and I’ll make sure it stays that way.’”
“That’s not a transfer.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Was there anything about giving it to Richard?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Jason.”
“I don’t.”
“Find it.”
Silence.
“Dad has it.”
“Then photograph it.”
“He took it with him.”
“Find out where.”
Jason laughed softly.
“You’re ordering me around now?”
Laura nearly hung up.
Then she remembered his face on the driveway.
Guilty.
“What do you know?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Laura—”
“You knew something before your father said anything.”
Another silence.
Sophie was watching her.
Laura lowered her voice.
“What did you do?”
Jason’s answer came almost too quietly to hear.
“I found another letter.”
Laura did not move.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Where?”
“Daniel’s desk.”
“That desk has been empty for years.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
Laura’s fingers tightened around the phone.
Jason said, “There’s a false bottom.”
The movers arrived at the apartment twenty-three minutes early.
Laura spent the next hour directing strangers carrying boxes while simultaneously trying not to think about hidden compartments in dead men’s desks.
The apartment smelled faintly of paint and somebody else’s cooking.
Sophie chose the smaller bedroom because its window faced a sycamore tree.
“You can have the bigger one,” Laura said.
“I know.”
Laura waited.
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“No negotiation?”
Sophie shook her head.
“Who are you?”
Sophie giggled and disappeared into the room.
Laura stood in the hall holding a box marked BATHROOM / IMPORTANT, though she could no longer remember what had made its contents important.
Her phone buzzed.
A photograph from Jason.
A folded piece of yellowed paper.
Then another image, unfolded.
Daniel’s handwriting.
Laura sat on the floor.
The first line made her throat tighten.
Jay—
If Dad ever finds this, I’ll deny being sentimental and blame Laura.
Laura stopped reading.
Daniel had written that.
Nobody else would have.
He used to accuse her of making him sentimental whenever he did something kind.
She enlarged the photograph.
The letter was dated nine months before his death.
Jay—
If Dad ever finds this, I’ll deny being sentimental and blame Laura.
I know he still thinks the house should come back to him. I told him what he wanted to hear because I was tired and because I’m a coward when it comes to fighting with him. That’s the truth.
Grandma knew exactly what she was doing.
Dad loves the house, but he loves owning things more than he loves taking care of them.
I’m keeping it.
May you like
If something happens to me, I want Laura and Sophie protected. Don’t let Dad turn generosity into ownership. You know how he does that.
I’m putting this here because you’re the only person who knows the drawer sticks.
