Chương 5
“I’m trying not to say things I can’t take back,” Clara said.
Katherine’s breathing softened.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
Another silence.
“Where are you?”
“At a hotel.”
“Why?”
“Because the house feels contaminated and legally complicated.”
“That might be the most you sentence ever spoken.”
Clara laughed.
She did not expect it.
The laugh broke halfway through.
Katherine heard.
“Mom?”
Clara covered her mouth.
“I’m here.”
“Do you want me to come?”
The old answer rose automatically.
No, I’m fine.
Clara looked at the jacket hanging from the chair, at the silver watch still on her wrist, at the unfamiliar bed where she had apparently chosen to spend the first night of the end of her marriage.
“Yes,” she said.
Katherine arrived with two grocery bags, a toothbrush Clara did not need, and a bottle of ginger ale.
“I didn’t know what people bring when their dad steals their mom’s retirement,” she said.
Clara took the ginger ale.
“This is probably right.”
Katherine stared at her for a second, then hugged her.
Clara held on too long.
Neither mentioned it.
They ate grocery-store sushi at the small desk beneath the television.
Katherine wanted details. Clara gave her the personal ones and withheld the company evidence she was not allowed to discuss. Richard had been seeing Olivia. Richard had moved money. Lawyers were involved. The exact financial damage was still being established.
“Did you know?” Katherine asked.
“No.”
“Did you suspect?”
Clara picked up a packet of soy sauce, then put it back.
“I suspected he was unhappy.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Were you unhappy?”
Clara looked at her daughter.
Katherine lowered her eyes.
“Sorry.”
“No. It’s fair.”
Outside, a siren moved down the street.
Clara folded the paper sleeve from her chopsticks into smaller and smaller rectangles.
“I was busy.”
“That isn’t an emotion.”
“I know.”
Katherine waited.
Clara exhaled.
“Yes. Sometimes.”
“With Dad?”
“With myself. With him. With the way our lives got… scheduled.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
“Why didn’t he?”
Katherine looked up.
Clara regretted the answer immediately.
“That was petty.”
“A little.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me. I’m not the marriage police.”
Clara smiled despite herself.
Then Katherine’s phone buzzed.
She looked at it and went still.
“What?”
“Dad.”
“Answer if you want.”
Katherine turned the phone face down.
“I don’t.”
Clara watched the gesture.
“Don’t choose sides because you think I need you to.”
“Mom, he stole from you.”
“He is still your father.”
“That doesn’t make him less of an asshole.”
“No.”
“I’m allowed to be angry.”
“Yes.”
“So are you.”
Clara looked away.
That was harder.
At 7:30 the next morning, Richard was waiting in the hotel lobby.
Clara saw him before he saw her.
He had not shaved. His gray hair was flattened on one side. He wore the same navy quarter-zip sweater he used for early flights and Sunday hardware-store trips. Seeing him dressed as himself made the betrayal worse.
She had expected a villain.
Richard looked like the man who knew she hated cilantro and always ordered guacamole without it.
He stood when she approached.
“Clara.”
“How did you find me?”
“Katherine.”
Her face hardened.
“She didn’t tell me,” he said quickly. “I saw the charge.”
“What charge?”
“The hotel authorization.”
Clara stopped.
Their personal credit card.
Of course.
She had spent thirty years teaching organizations to separate access and authority, then checked into a hotel on a shared card.
Human beings were humiliating.
“You need to leave.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Five minutes.”
“Richard.”
“I don’t want to do this through lawyers.”
“That option expired around the time you moved my money.”
“It was our money.”
The lobby seemed to shrink.
Clara stared at him.
Richard’s face changed.
“That came out wrong.”
“No. I think it came out accurately.”
“I borrowed against it.”
“You concealed withdrawals.”
“I was going to replace them.”
“With what?”
He looked toward the elevators.
“Can we sit?”
“No.”
“People are watching.”
“Then lower your voice.”
He did.
That had always been Richard. Even in anger, he worried about being observed.
“I made mistakes,” he said.
“Mistakes?”
“Yes.”
“A mistake is leaving the garage door open overnight. You maintained an affair and moved money for over a year.”
“I didn’t move it because of Olivia.”
Clara felt something inside her become very still.
“How much of it was because of Olivia?”
Richard pressed his lips together.
“Not as much as you think.”
“That is not a number.”
“Clara, I’m trying to explain.”
“I’ve been asking for numbers.”
He rubbed his face.
“About ninety.”
“Ninety what?”
“Thousand.”
The hotel lobby continued around them.
A child dragged a purple suitcase toward the revolving doors.
A man in running clothes poured coffee into a paper cup.
Clara heard the lid snap into place.
“Ninety thousand dollars?”
“Not all directly.”
“What does that mean?”
“Travel. Rent. Some debt.”
“Whose rent?”
Richard looked at her.
The answer arrived before he spoke.
Clara felt dizzy.
“You rented her a place.”
“I helped.”
“Where?”
“Downtown.”
“A condominium?”
“Yes.”
“The deposit came from my retirement account.”
“Our account.”
She slapped him.
The movement shocked both of them.
Not hard enough to turn his head fully.
Hard enough to make the sound.
People looked.
Clara stared at her own hand.
Richard touched his cheek.
Neither spoke.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He gave a disbelieving laugh.
“For hitting me?”
“Yes.”
“Not for anything else?”
“What else would I apologize for?”
He dropped his hand.
“There she is.”
Clara’s shame turned to anger.
“Do not do that.”
“Do what?”
“Use my flaws to negotiate with your choices.”
“I’m not negotiating.”
“You always are.”
“I was lonely.”
“So was I.”
“You had work.”
“You had me.”
“Did I?”
The question hurt because it was not entirely dishonest.
Clara took a step back.
“You could have left.”
“I know.”
“You could have asked for a divorce.”
“I know.”
“You could have told me you hated our life.”
“I didn’t hate our life.”
May you like
“Then what exactly did you want?”
Richard looked older than sixty.
