Chương 7
“No.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Fantastic.”
“Emily—”
“Why does every Carter man decide information belongs to him first?”
“That’s fair.”
“I wasn’t being fair.”
“Still fair.”
She rubbed her forehead.
Michael said, “For what it’s worth, I told Daniel to tell you.”
“Doesn’t help.”
“No.”
“Did you know about the trust changes?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Emily laughed without humor.
“Of course.”
“Daniel wanted to separate Lucy’s interest from Mom’s control.”
Emily sat up.
“What?”
“He was restructuring things so Mom couldn’t serve as trustee over anything connected to Lucy.”
Emily looked toward the kitchen.
Daniel was loading the dishwasher.
He had not told her that.
“Why?”
Michael seemed surprised.
“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
“He didn’t trust her around you.”
Emily stared at Daniel.
He glanced over.
She looked away.
Michael continued.
“He told me months ago that Mom was getting too possessive about the baby. She kept saying ‘our granddaughter’ like you were a temporary administrative obstacle.”
“That sounds like her.”
“He wanted legal distance.”
“Without telling me.”
“Also sounds like Daniel.”
Emily sighed.
“Did he think she might do something dangerous?”
“No. Jesus, no.”
Michael paused.
“At least he never said that.”
Emily looked at Lucy.
“Okay.”
“Em?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being a Carter man who knew something and didn’t tell you.”
She almost smiled.
“Apology accepted provisionally.”
“Strong result.”
After the call, Emily walked into the kitchen.
Daniel closed the dishwasher.
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“To apologize for your family.”
“That could become a full-time job.”
Emily leaned against the counter.
“You were changing the trust so your mother couldn’t control Lucy’s money.”
Daniel went still.
“Michael told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“After the paperwork was done.”
“Why after?”
“Because I didn’t want you worrying about it.”
Emily laughed.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“You see it now?”
“Yes.”
“You keep removing my right to be worried.”
“I know.”
“You decide that stress is bad for me, so you hide whatever might cause it.”
“Yes.”
“You understand how condescending that is?”
“Yes.”
“Stop saying yes.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I don’t know what else to say.”
That stopped her.
He stood there in a faded gray T-shirt with a wet patch near one shoulder where Lucy had spit up earlier.
He no longer looked like the controlled man from the hospital corridor.
He looked lost.
Emily softened.
Not much.
Enough.
“Tell me why you changed the trust.”
Daniel leaned against the sink.
“My mother kept talking about private school.”
“Lucy was in utero.”
“I know.”
“She suggested a preschool waitlist before we had a crib.”
“I remember.”
“She opened a savings account.”
Emily frowned.
“What?”
“She tried.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“In Lucy’s name?”
“She couldn’t without documents. She asked me for your Social Security number.”
Emily stared.
“She told me it was for a baby shower gift.”
“I didn’t give it to her.”
“Thank God.”
“I told her to stop. She didn’t.”
Daniel looked down.
“So I met with the estate attorney. I wanted anything designated for Lucy to have independent administration. No Mom.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were thirty-five weeks pregnant and already sleeping three hours a night.”
Emily opened her mouth.
Daniel lifted a hand.
“I know. I know. Wrong.”
She closed her mouth.
He continued.
“I also knew she’d find out eventually. I thought I could finish it before she did.”
“And instead she learned enough to think I was after the money.”
“Yes.”
“Which made her investigate me.”
“Yes.”
“And you investigated me because she investigated me.”
“Yes.”
Emily stared at him.
“This family needs a hobby.”
Daniel laughed.
It surprised both of them.
Emily shook her head.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“You people need pickleball.”
“I hate pickleball.”
“Learn.”
He smiled.
Then it faded.
“Emily.”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to therapy.”
She blinked.
“When did this happen?”
“This morning.”
“You made an appointment?”
“Yes.”
“Because I told you to?”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“I called someone Michael recommended.”
Emily watched him.
“What do you expect me to say?”
“Nothing.”
“Good.”
“I’m not doing it to get credit.”
“Good.”
“I’m doing it because I don’t want Lucy growing up thinking privacy is suspicious.”
Emily looked toward the bassinet.
That sentence landed.
She nodded once.
“Good.”
The case against Margaret moved slowly.
Weeks passed.
Emily’s bruise changed from purple to yellow, then disappeared.
Her knee healed.
Lucy gained nearly two pounds.
Life became strange in the ordinary ways new parenthood was strange.
At four in the morning, enormous questions about trust and marriage coexisted with arguments about whether a bottle nipple had been sterilized.
Emily cried once because Daniel bought the wrong yogurt.
She apologized.
Then cried because she had apologized.
Daniel learned not to say, “You’re tired,” even when she obviously was.
They began couples counseling.
The first session was terrible.
Emily hated the therapist’s throw pillows.
Daniel hated a question about his mother and answered with six minutes of corporate language before the therapist said, “Daniel, you’re talking like you’re presenting quarterly earnings.”
Emily laughed so hard she snorted.
Daniel looked betrayed.
The therapist smiled.
It was, unexpectedly, useful.
Margaret did not contact them directly.
Her attorney did.
There was an offer.
Margaret would accept a diversion-type resolution if available, complete anger-management counseling, stay away from Emily for six months, and reimburse medical expenses not covered by insurance.
In exchange, she wanted Emily to provide a statement acknowledging Margaret had not intended to harm Lucy.
Emily read the proposal at the dining-room table.
Daniel stood nearby.
“What do you think?”
Emily looked up.
“I think your mother is very interested in adjectives.”
“What?”
“She’ll admit the action. She just wants to control how it’s described.”
Daniel sat.
“That sounds like her.”
Emily reread the page.
“What do you want me to do?”
He hesitated.
Then said, “I don’t get a vote.”
Emily looked at him.
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.”
May you like
“What do you want?”
Daniel rubbed his thumb along the table edge.
