Chương 10
For three hours, Claire worked.
She reviewed drawings.
She rejected a light fixture.
She approved a cabinet pull.
She called a contractor who spent nine minutes complaining about a wall that was not square.
Normal problems required an amount of attention Claire found almost medicinal.
At seven, everyone left except Mei.
Claire was sorting material samples when Mei asked, “What are you going to do?”
Claire kept sorting.
“Gray. Beige. Beige pretending to be gray.”
“About Napa.”
“Can I sue Sherwin-Williams instead?”
“No.”
Claire sat on the worktable.
“I don’t know.”
Mei nodded.
Claire looked at her.
“You’re supposed to tell me.”
“I charge extra for morality.”
Claire smiled.
Then she picked at a dried line of glue on the table.
“If I fight Daniel, I might win.”
“Okay.”
“If I don’t fight, the house is his.”
“Okay.”
“Stop saying okay.”
Mei leaned against a cabinet.
“What do you want me to say?”
“That my mother was wrong.”
“She was.”
“That Daniel should give me the house.”
“I don’t know him well enough.”
“That Margaret is a monster.”
“She scared me at Thanksgiving, but monster seems strong.”
Claire laughed.
Mei waited.
Claire’s smile faded.
“I hit her.”
“Yes.”
“I keep thinking about that.”
“Good.”
Claire looked up.
Mei shrugged.
“You should.”
“I apologized.”
“That’s also good.”
“She accepted it.”
“Also good.”
“I still hate her.”
“Those can coexist.”
Claire stared at the floor.
“My mother used to say Bennett women could make anything sound reasonable if we lowered our voices.”
Mei smiled.
“That is an extremely Bennett thing to say.”
Claire looked toward the dark studio windows.
“I think I know what I want.”
Two days later, the family gathered again at Laurel Ridge.
Not in the dining room.
Claire asked them to meet in the cellar.
Margaret objected.
Claire insisted.
At eight in the evening, the four of them stood around the same marble table where Claire had struck her aunt.
The crystal glass was back in its place.
For some reason, that bothered Claire.
She moved it six inches.
Margaret watched but said nothing.
Avery was not there.
Neither was Sonia.
This was not a legal meeting.
Claire placed a folder on the table.
Daniel looked at it.
“What’s that?”
“A release my lawyer drafted.”
Margaret inhaled.
Richard’s eyes closed briefly.
Claire continued.
“I’m not challenging the transfer.”
Nobody spoke.
Daniel stared at her.
Margaret said, “Claire—”
“I’m not finished.”
Margaret stopped.
Claire looked at Daniel.
“Laurel Ridge is yours.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“I know legally—”
“No. I’m saying I accept it.”
He stared.
Claire continued.
“I don’t accept how it happened. I don’t accept being lied to. I don’t accept Mom making the decision for me because she thought guilt would hurt me.”
She looked at Margaret.
“And I don’t accept what you did.”
Margaret nodded once.
Claire opened the folder.
“The release says I won’t contest ownership based on the transfer. It does not include confidentiality.”
Margaret’s eyes sharpened.
Richard looked at her.
Claire continued.
“I’m not signing anything that requires me to protect this family’s reputation.”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“You understand there may be consequences.”
“Yes.”
“For the winery.”
“Yes.”
“For people who had nothing to do with this.”
“Yes.”
Daniel spoke.
“What are you planning to do?”
Claire turned to him.
“Nothing dramatic.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I’m requesting a full independent accounting of every trust Margaret and Richard controlled during that period.”
Richard nodded slowly.
Margaret stared at Claire.
“If the accounting finds other improper transfers, they get corrected.”
“And if it finds none?”
“Then it finds none.”
Margaret’s voice went colder.
“You could expose private family records for no reason.”
Claire felt the old fear of Margaret’s disapproval.
It was astonishing how durable it was.
“I have a reason.”
“What?”
“Because you don’t get to decide whether secrecy is safer for everyone anymore.”
Margaret’s hands tightened.
“I was trying to protect this family.”
“I know.”
That seemed to unsettle her more than accusation.
Claire continued.
“That’s the problem. Everybody had a reason.”
Richard looked down.
Claire turned to Daniel.
“You should have been asked before the money was taken.”
Daniel said nothing.
“I should have been told once I was old enough to hear it.”
His eyes moved toward her.
“My mother should have repaid what she actually owed you instead of giving you a house because she couldn’t forgive herself.”
Daniel looked at the marble.
Claire pushed the folder toward him.
“I’m done arguing with dead people through property.”
The cellar was silent except for the faint hum of the cooling system.
Daniel put one hand on the folder.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
He looked up.
Claire shrugged.
“I think being completely sure is how this family gets into trouble.”
Richard made a soft sound that might have been a laugh.
Even Margaret’s mouth shifted.
Claire looked at Daniel.
“I’m not sure. I’m choosing anyway.”
Daniel opened the folder.
He did not read it immediately.
“What do you want from me?”
Claire considered lying.
Nothing.
That would have sounded clean and mature.
It would also have been false.
“I want to be allowed in the house.”
Daniel’s expression softened slightly.
“Claire—”
“I know legally you can throw me out tomorrow.”
“I’m not going to.”
“Don’t answer yet.”
He stopped.
“I want to go through Mom’s things myself. I want the pantry door with the height marks if you ever renovate. I want her desk.”
Daniel nodded.
“And I want the leather chair in the library.”
“No.”
Claire stared.
Daniel’s mouth barely moved.
“That chair is good.”
“You hate that chair.”
“I have grown.”
Claire let out a laugh.
It surprised all of them.
Even Margaret.
Then Claire became serious.
“And I want you to decide what happens to the house because you own it. Not because Mom died. Not because Margaret thinks it will fix something. Not because you’re protecting me.”
Daniel looked at the folder.
“That may take a while.”
“Take a while.”
May you like
Margaret stepped forward.
“Daniel, before you make any decisions—”
