Part 5
“The couch is closer to the bathroom.”
“That is the first good argument you’ve made today.”
They compromised by moving the mattress from the bedroom onto the living-room floor.
Claire lowered herself onto it and discovered that every position hurt. On her left side, the bruise pulled. On her right, the baby pressed upward beneath her ribs. On her back, she could not breathe comfortably.
Maya stood over her with two pillows.
“This is a terrible guest experience,” Claire said.
“I’ll waive the resort fee.”
Claire laughed once, carefully.
Her phone contained fourteen missed calls by noon. Four were from Evan. Three were from Margaret. One was from the lodge’s outside payroll administrator. The others came from staff members who had heard some version of the story.
A text from the pastry chef said, Are you in labor???
Another from the banquet captain said, Richard got arrested? Is Saturday canceled?
Claire stared at that one for a long time. Bellwether was hosting a one-hundred-person anniversary dinner Saturday. She knew which linen order had arrived short, which guest had a shellfish allergy, and which temporary server had not completed alcohol training. Her fingers moved toward the keyboard before she stopped herself.
Maya took the phone.
“No.”
“They need to know the revised floor plan is in the blue binder.”
“They can locate a binder without the woman Richard assaulted.”
“They won’t know which one.”
“Then they’ll experience personal growth.”
Claire lay back and covered her eyes.
A few minutes later, Maya placed the phone beside her.
“You got an email.”
The sender was Bellwether’s payroll administrator, a woman named Sheila Boone whom Claire had met twice. The subject line read EMPLOYMENT STATUS CONFIRMATION.
Claire opened it.
Dear Ms. Rowan, per your request, attached please find the status change submitted by authorized management on the third of this month. Our system reflects separation from employment effective the first. Please direct questions regarding the reason for separation to Bellwether Hospitality.
Attached was a one-page form.
Claire enlarged it.
The reason box read VOLUNTARY RESIGNATION.
Richard’s electronic signature appeared at the bottom.
Beneath it was another authorization.
Evan Vale.
For several seconds Claire forgot to breathe.
Maya sat beside her. “What?”
Claire handed her the phone.
Maya read it twice. “He signed this?”
“It looks like it.”
“Did you resign?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Evan you were resigning?”
“No.”
The baby shifted, pressing a hard curve against Claire’s left side. She placed her palm over it.
Evan called again.
This time she answered.
“Claire.” His relief arrived too quickly. “Thank God. I’ve been—are you okay? Is she okay?”
“We’re alive.”
“I went to the hospital, but they wouldn’t tell me where you were.”
“I asked them not to.”
Silence.
“I understand,” he said, though his voice made clear that he did not.
Claire opened the attachment on her phone.
“Why is your signature on my termination form?”
Another silence, longer.
“Where did you get that?”
“Sheila sent it.”
“Claire, it’s not—my dad said it was a benefits adjustment.”
“It says voluntary resignation.”
“I didn’t fill it out.”
“You signed it.”
“He sent it through the payroll system. I was signing a stack of approvals.”
“You approved something that said I quit.”
“I didn’t read every page.”
The answer was so ordinary that it hurt more than a sophisticated lie would have.
“You canceled my insurance because you didn’t read.”
“I didn’t know it would cancel anything. Dad said he was moving you off Bellwether payroll until the wedding because of the prenup issue.”
“Moving me off payroll means I don’t work there.”
“He said you’d still be paid.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Through the management company, maybe.”
“There is no other management company.”
“There was supposed to be.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“What happened in the kitchen?” Evan asked. “Dad says you were holding a pan.”
“After he hit me.”
“I know. I mean, I think—I saw your side. At the hospital, when they—”
“You saw him hit me?”
“No.”
“Did your mother?”
“She says she turned away.”
“She told me I was never part of the family while I was bent over the counter.”
Evan breathed into the phone. He sounded as though he were walking somewhere.
“Mom is in shock.”
“No. Your mother is organized.”
“That’s not fair.”
Claire opened her eyes.
There it was. Not denial of the blow. Not anger at the false resignation. Fairness, distributed carefully among the Vales.
“Where is your father?”
“He posted bail early this morning.”
A chill passed through her.
“Where is he now?”
“At the lodge. The order says he can’t contact you.”
“He has keys to my house.”
“I can get your things.”
“I don’t want you touching my things.”
“Claire, please. I’m trying to help.”
“You signed away my job and my health insurance.”
“I told you I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know because you didn’t look.”
“That isn’t the same as doing it on purpose.”
“No,” she said. “It’s what you do when someone else’s life is written on a page you can’t be bothered to read.”
He stopped breathing for a moment.
“I love you.”
Claire looked at the engagement ring.
“Do you?”
“That’s not a fair question.”
Again.
She ended the call.
Maya sat at the kitchen table pretending not to listen. She was folding a pharmacy receipt into smaller and smaller squares.
“Say it,” Claire told her.
“I’m trying not to.”
“You’re bad at that.”
Maya placed the paper square on the table. “He has the moral structure of wet toast.”
Claire laughed, then pressed a hand to her bruise.
May you like
The laughter frightened her because it made the pain flare. She waited for the baby to move. When the movement came, a slow push beneath her palm, Claire whispered thanks to no one.
Officer Hart called that afternoon. A temporary protective order prohibited Richard from contacting Claire or approaching her residence, workplace, or medical appointments. Since the house where Claire lived belonged to a Vale family trust, Denise and a victim advocate recommended she not return alone.
