Chương 10
Several files were missing.
Lydia said her office had migrated software.
The foundation’s technology consultant said no migration had occurred.
Robert Dane claimed not to remember approving a policy that allowed the incoming chair to review applications before the grants committee. His electronic signature appeared on the document.
Charles Bell admitted that he had questioned the center’s budget but did not want to embarrass Alistair.
Dr. Price admitted she had stopped reading full board packets because meetings had become ceremonial.
The failures were less dramatic than theft and more recognizable.
People had deferred.
People had assumed.
People had traded responsibility for continued invitations to dinner.
Alistair answered every question through counsel.
Mara answered too many herself until Naomi told her to stop volunteering information the investigator had not requested.
“You are not cleansing the institution through confession,” Naomi said.
“I signed minutes.”
“You also voted against the center twice.”
“I stayed.”
“Yes.”
“I knew the gala costs were rising.”
“Yes.”
“I could have withheld funds earlier.”
“Yes.”
Mara waited.
Naomi closed her notebook. “Would you prefer I tell you none of this was your responsibility?”
“No.”
“Then stop looking disappointed when I agree with you.”
They sat in Naomi’s Portland office while sleet tapped the windows. On the desk between them lay a draft statement from the Harrow family.
It acknowledged that “an insensitive interaction” had occurred.
It praised Mara’s “previously unknown service.”
It did not name Lydia’s action or Alistair’s response.
“They want me to sign this?” Mara asked.
“They want you to approve it.”
“It reads like I survived a difficult seating arrangement.”
Naomi removed her glasses. “Alistair’s counsel says they will issue it with or without your approval.”
“Let them.”
“They are also proposing a joint interview.”
“No.”
“With you, Lydia, and Alistair.”
“No.”
“Good. I already declined.”
Mara looked toward the window. “What does Lydia want?”
“To keep her board seat.”
“Did she say that?”
“Her attorney did.”
“Of course she has an attorney.”
“So do you.”
“I have you.”
“I charge more than most attorneys.”
“That is true.”
Naomi put her glasses back on. “Lydia asked to meet you privately.”
Mara’s shoulders tightened.
“You do not have to,” Naomi said.
“I know.”
“Stop saying that when you are considering the opposite.”
Mara folded the draft statement along its center and then opened it again.
“Where?”
“She suggested your cottage.”
“No.”
“A neutral location?”
“Julian’s boat shed.”
Naomi studied her. “Why there?”
“Because there are no soft chairs.”
The boat shed stood at the edge of a small harbor where Julian had kept a twenty-two-foot wooden sloop he rarely sailed well. After his death, Mara had sold the boat to a teacher from Belfast but retained the shed because she could not decide what to do with Julian’s tools.
Lydia arrived ten minutes early.
She wore jeans, rubber boots, and a cream sweater too expensive for the weather. Mara had never seen her in rubber boots. They were spotless.
Inside the shed, rain ticked against the metal roof. The room smelled of rope, cedar shavings, and old engine oil. Julian’s workbench remained cluttered with screws sorted into mismatched jars.
Lydia stood beside it with both hands in her coat pockets.
“Your lawyer said no lawyers,” she said.
“Your lawyer asked for the meeting.”
“I know.”
Mara closed the door.
For a moment neither spoke.
Lydia looked toward the empty cradle where the sailboat had rested each winter. “I hated that boat.”
“So did Julian.”
“He pretended he loved it.”
“He loved repairing it.”
“He liked avoiding family lunches.”
“That too.”
A small smile appeared between them and vanished before either could claim it.
Lydia removed her hands from her pockets. “I’m going to tell the investigator what happened.”
“About the shawl?”
“About the grants.”
Mara waited.
Lydia looked down at the floorboards. “My office told station chiefs that public support for the center would be viewed favorably.”
“Your office?”
“I approved the language.”
“Why?”
“Because we needed endorsements.”
“You tied rescue funding to publicity.”
“I didn’t reject anyone for refusing.”
“Elena Brooks’s application was marked low visibility.”
Lydia’s eyes lifted. “That was not the reason.”
“What was?”
“The station had incomplete maintenance records.”
“Then why wasn’t that written?”
“I don’t know.”
“You reviewed the file.”
“I reviewed seventy-three files.”
“You wrote two words.”
Lydia turned away.
Through the rain-streaked window, two lobstermen worked on a trap stack across the harbor. One held a tarp while the other fought with a length of rope. Their argument could not be heard through the glass, but their gestures were clear.
Lydia said, “I was supposed to make the center happen.”
“According to whom?”
“My father.”
“Then tell him it was impossible.”
“You say that as if telling him things changes them.”
Mara leaned against the workbench. “Julian told him.”
“And look how that ended.”
The words left Lydia before she could stop them.
Mara’s face went cold.
Lydia shut her eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
“You did.”
“I meant Dad dismissed him.”
“You meant Julian died.”
“No.”
“Then choose better words.”
Lydia’s breathing became shallow. “This is why I can’t talk to you.”
“Because I listen?”
“Because you keep every sentence.”
“Some sentences should be kept.”
Rain struck harder against the roof.
Lydia sat on an overturned crate. The movement lacked her usual grace. “After Mom died, Dad stopped asking me what I thought. He only asked what I had done. The foundation was the first thing he gave me that mattered.”
Mara remained standing.
“I thought if I made the center happen, he would see me as more than—” Lydia stopped.
“More than what?”
She laughed without humor. “You know.”
Mara did know.
Beautiful daughter. Polished hostess. Reliable ornament.
The same world that rewarded Lydia’s appearance had made it easy for Alistair to dismiss her judgment. She had responded by mastering the appearance of authority and mistaking it for the thing itself.
“You could have built something useful,” Mara said.
May you like
“I thought it was useful.”
“You were told it wasn’t.”
