Part 14
Veronica nodded.
“You did.”
“I secured the house.”
“You packed my clothes.”
“The trustees instructed—”
“You always find a noun to stand behind. Trustees. Procedure. Liability. Security.”
“And you always find a dead man to speak for you.”
Her face tightened.
Claire said, “Both of you should stop.”
Neither responded.
“You are arguing about who Howard loved more,” she continued. “He used both of you to hide what he did.”
Veronica looked at the floor.
Daniel leaned back and closed his eyes for one moment.
Claire was right, but not completely. Howard had loved people. That was part of the difficulty. He loved through gifts, favors, rooms, jobs, rescue, and dependence. He gave Daniel a career when Daniel had no money and a pregnant wife. He paid for Anna’s final treatment after insurance refused coverage. He also scheduled a foundation retreat during her last month and told Daniel that important work could not wait for private tragedy.
Daniel had gone.
He returned to the hospital six hours before Anna died.
For four years, he had blamed Howard for asking and himself for agreeing. It had been easier to continue working at the estate than to decide which blame mattered more.
Claire broke the silence.
“Did Mom know Howard paid for treatment?”
“Yes.”
“Did she want him to?”
“No.”
“But you accepted.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the treatment cost more than we had.”
“Did it help?”
“For a while.”
Claire rubbed her thumb against the phone case.
“She never told me.”
“She was ashamed.”
“Of being sick?”
“Of owing Howard.”
Veronica looked at Daniel.
“That was how he kept people.”
Ruth’s voice was quiet. “He also gave without keeping.”
“Sometimes,” Veronica said.
Daniel thought of Howard paying college tuition for the gardener’s daughter and refusing to let anyone announce it. He thought of Howard humiliating a trustee over a misplaced wine order. The man could not be reduced without becoming easier than he had been.
“Why did you stay?” Claire asked Veronica.
“At the house?”
“With Howard.”
Veronica adjusted the robe over her knees.
“Because he listened to me.”
Daniel almost spoke. Claire saw it and gave him a warning look.
Veronica continued.
“At first, anyway. I had worked for men who waited for me to finish so they could repeat my idea in a slower voice. Howard stole ideas too, but he enjoyed admitting it. He made people feel chosen. Then, once you were chosen, leaving felt like proving everyone who distrusted you had been right.”
“Did you love him?” Claire asked.
Veronica’s lips parted.
Daniel expected the practiced answer she had given at the memorial: deeply, privately, without condition.
Instead she said, “Not every day.”
Ruth looked at her.
Veronica rubbed the bandage on her heel.
“Some days I loved him. Some days I loved the life around him. Some days I hated the way he made every room depend on his mood. Near the end, I loved taking care of him because it was the only part no one could tell me I had imagined.”
Her voice remained steady until the last word.
Daniel looked away, granting her the small privacy of not being watched.
Claire said, “Why did you use the investor money?”
“I believed the development would happen.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Veronica gave a tired smile.
“No. It isn’t.”
She looked toward the dark lake.
“I had spent twelve years becoming the person who could enter rooms like this without apologizing. The apartment, the clothes, the introductions, the dinners where nobody ate enough. It all cost money. More money every year. When the project stalled, I borrowed to maintain the appearance that it had not. When Howard offered the transfer, I used part of it to save the apartment because losing it would have told everyone I had already failed.”
“You chose the appearance over the investors,” Claire said.
“Yes.”
“Then you let Howard make it look like his mistake.”
“I let him help.”
“That is not the same sentence.”
“No.”
Daniel watched Claire absorb the admission.
She had always believed honesty should arrive cleanly once demanded. At fourteen, she confronted him about Anna’s diagnosis after finding medication in the bathroom. Daniel told her the truth in fragments because he thought smaller truths would cause smaller pain. Claire never forgave the method, though she forgave the fear behind it.
Now she was learning that people could confess and still defend themselves in the same breath.
Ruth said, “I should have given the acknowledgment to the attorneys.”
Daniel looked at her.
She folded her hands.
“I told myself I was honoring Howard’s request. Then I told myself I was giving Miss Hale time to repay the money. Then I told myself I was protecting the staff from scandal. Each month, the reason became less honorable, but I had already waited so long that admitting it felt worse.”
“Why today?” Claire asked. “Why were you going to give it to Dad today?”
Ruth looked at Daniel.
“Because the trustees voted to sell the house.”
Veronica sat forward.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Daniel stared at Ruth. “How do you know?”
“I answered the library telephone while you were in Milwaukee. The chairman asked for you. He assumed I knew.”
Daniel’s throat tightened.
The Milwaukee meeting had been described as a preliminary financial review. The trustees had discussed “strategic options,” but no vote had been taken while Daniel was present.
“They voted after I left,” he said.
“Yes.”
Veronica’s face had gone pale.
“The west wing,” she whispered.
“The amendment would need to be considered,” Ruth said.
“If they know about it.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at his dead phone on the table. The trustees had likely tried to call him after the vote. He had heard nothing because the battery had failed on the drive home.
“Who is buying?” Claire asked.
“A private development group,” Ruth said.
Veronica closed her eyes.
Daniel understood before she spoke.
“The north-shore investors,” he said.
Veronica opened her eyes.
“Not the same people.”
May you like
“Connected?”
She said nothing.
