Chương 6
Reasonable people explained.
Reasonable people compromised.
Reasonable people allowed one more conversation.
Margaret’s voice lowered.
“You have no right to keep her from me.”
Laura almost responded.
Then she stopped.
She did not know the precise legal boundaries of grandparent access in their circumstances, and she was tired of everyone in the family declaring rights whenever they wanted something.
“I’m not discussing that in a doorway.”
“You humiliated us.”
“You kicked my suitcase across the driveway in front of my daughter.”
“You secretly sold our home.”
“My home.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. That’s the problem.”
Margaret’s mouth trembled.
Laura had never seen that before.
It did not make her feel good.
Margaret looked down at the pharmacy bag.
“Toilet paper?”
Laura almost laughed.
“Yes.”
“You always forget when you move.”
Laura stared at her.
“How would you know?”
“You forgot when you and Daniel moved into the Chicago apartment.”
Laura said nothing.
Margaret had visited them that weekend.
She had brought twelve rolls and complained that Daniel bought cheap paper towels.
A useless memory.
A human one.
For a moment the six years between them became harder to arrange into clean categories.
Then Margaret said, “Richard says you committed fraud.”
There it was.
Laura’s sympathy closed.
“Good night.”
“He has Daniel’s letter.”
“I know.”
Margaret blinked.
“Jason.”
Laura said nothing.
“That boy has spent his entire life betraying whoever spoke to him last.”
“He’s thirty-nine.”
“He’ll always be a boy to me.”
“That may be part of his problem.”
Margaret’s face sharpened.
There was the familiar woman again.
“You think leaving makes you brave?”
“No.”
“You think selling that house erases what we did for you?”
“No.”
“Then what exactly do you think you’ve accomplished?”
Laura considered the question.
Sophie shifted behind her.
A bus groaned at the corner.
Someone upstairs dropped something heavy.
“I made a decision without asking you.”
Margaret stared at her.
Laura realized that was the answer.
Not the money.
Not the sale.
Not revenge.
She had made a decision without permission.
Margaret stepped back.
“Richard will fight you.”
“I know.”
“He’ll spend every dollar he has.”
“That sounds like Richard.”
“He can ruin you.”
Laura swallowed.
That possibility was real.
Legal fees.
Delays.
Claims.
The buyers.
The money from closing was sitting in accounts she was afraid to touch.
Fear moved through her stomach.
Margaret saw it.
For the first time all day, Laura understood exactly why she had come.
Not to reconcile.
To find the fear.
There you are.
Margaret’s shoulders settled almost imperceptibly.
Laura opened the lobby door wider.
Margaret mistook it for invitation.
Then Laura stepped back inside.
“Good night, Margaret.”
She shut the door.
The lock clicked.
Margaret remained outside.
Sophie looked up at Laura.
“Are we in trouble?”
Laura crouched.
“Maybe.”
Sophie’s eyes widened.
Laura corrected herself.
“There are grown-up problems we have to figure out. You’re safe.”
“Are we poor?”
“What?”
“Grandma said Grandpa can ruin us.”
Laura closed her eyes.
Of course she had heard.
“No. We’re not poor.”
“Are we rich?”
Laura laughed despite herself.
“That is a much more complicated question than you think.”
Sophie frowned.
“Can we still get cereal?”
“Yes.”
“Then okay.”
That night Laura slept badly.
At 2:14 a.m., she woke convinced she heard the third stair creak.
There was no third stair.
The apartment had one floor.
She lay in the dark listening to the refrigerator cycle.
Different sound.
Different home.
Her phone glowed on the nightstand.
A message from Jason.
I have the original.
Another.
Dad knows I took it.
Then:
He told me to leave.
Laura stared at the words.
She did not answer immediately.
Jason had lived with his parents for three years after his contracting business failed. Margaret called it temporary. Richard called it irresponsible. Jason called it free rent.
Laura had judged him for it.
Often.
Some judgments remained deserved even when circumstances changed.
She typed:
Are you safe?
His answer came quickly.
Yeah.
Then:
Can I sleep on your couch?
Laura stared at the ceiling.
Absolutely not was her first thought.
Daniel’s brother.
Thirty-nine.
Messy.
Defensive.
A man who left dishes in sinks as though plates eventually migrated to dishwashers by instinct.
A man who had watched his mother humiliate Laura for years.
A man holding evidence she needed.
No.
She would not trade shelter for the letter.
That would make her a different version of Richard.
She typed:
You can stay tonight whether or not you give me the letter. One night. We discuss tomorrow.
Jason replied:
Fair.
Then:
Your couch sucks btw.
She almost smiled.
You haven’t seen it.
I know you.
That irritated her enough to make her laugh.
Jason arrived at 2:51 carrying a backpack and Daniel’s old desk drawer.
Laura opened the door.
She stared at the drawer.
He shrugged.
“Chain of custody?”
“You ripped out the drawer?”
“It was already loose.”
“You brought furniture.”
“Part of furniture.”
Sophie appeared in the hallway rubbing her eyes.
“Uncle Jason?”
“Hey, Soph.”
“Why do you have a drawer?”
Jason looked at Laura.
Laura looked at Jason.
“Family emergency,” he said.
Sophie nodded sleepily.
“Okay.”
She returned to bed.
Jason watched her go.
“She’s weirdly chill.”
“She’s seven.”
“Exactly.”
Laura pointed at the couch.
“One night.”
“Yeah.”
“No smoking.”
“I quit.”
“When?”
“January.”
She had not known.
“No drinking.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You thought it.”
“I think lots of things.”
He set the drawer on the coffee table.
The original letter was taped beneath a thin wood panel.
Daniel had hidden it well enough to survive six years and badly enough for his brother to find it.
Laura did not touch the paper.
Jason sat.
“Dad knew about the sale because he’s been opening your mail.”
The room became very still.
“What?”
“Not all of it.”
“That is not an improvement.”
“Stuff that came to the house.”
“My mail comes to the house.”
“Yeah.”
“What did he open?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
