Chapter 3
The sales manager stopped talking when I told him I wasn't the buyer.
I asked him to send any questions directly to Claire. He couldn't discuss her financing with me, and I didn't want him to. I only needed to know whether another bill was coming to our house.
Claire took the phone after I finished.
Her voice became bright.
“Yes, I'll get that to you Monday.”
I waited until she hung up.
“The car isn't paid for.”
“I financed the rest.”
“How much is the rest?”
“About twenty-eight thousand.”
Brooke's birthday present had grown from a car into a debt she hadn't even known her mother had taken on.
“What document do they need?” I asked.
“A proof of address.”
“Then why did you tell them you'd bring it back? You live here.”
Claire looked at her phone.
“Because it was in my other folder.”
I didn't press that question yet. I called Leah and told her the girls could stay the night if they wanted. Maya took the phone.
“Did you find the money?” she asked.
“Not yet. I'm working on it.”
“Can I still go to school in August?”
I had promised her that I would help make it possible. Suddenly I couldn't use the account balance as proof.
“I'm going to do everything I can,” I said. “I won't tell you it's fixed before it is.”
She was quiet.
“Thank you for saying that.”
After the call, I went upstairs to the small room where I kept our household records. Claire followed.
“I didn't intend for them to find out at the party,” she said.
“You knew Maya would find out.”
“I thought I'd replace it first.”
“From where?”
“There was an investment.”
I turned.
“What investment?”
She leaned against the doorway.
“The loan was for a business opportunity. It didn't work out the way I expected.”
Eighteen months of hidden payments. A new car with more owed on it. Maya's fund emptied to settle the loan.
I opened our joint account. There were transfers to Claire's personal account I'd assumed were for household spending. Some were small. A few were large enough that I should have asked about them.
“I asked you last winter why our balance kept dropping,” I said.
“You were working every weekend. I said I'd handle it.”
“And I let you.”
I felt anger toward myself. It didn't excuse what Claire had done. It showed me how much trust I'd given her and how little checking I'd done afterward.
I sent copies of the records to a secure folder. Then I changed the passwords on accounts only I owned. The college savings plan's office was closed, so I sent a message through its website stating that I had not authorized the withdrawal and needed the account reviewed.
Claire watched from the doorway.
“Please don't report me.”
“I have to find out how the withdrawal happened.”
“They'll ask questions about the taxes too.”
“Yes.”
She looked frightened. I was frightened too.
The next morning, Leah came over. She sat with me while I called the plan administrator as soon as it opened. The representative verified my identity and took the details. A withdrawal had been requested online, sent to a bank account in my name and Claire's, then transferred onward.
I hadn't requested it. The representative began a review and explained that the funds might not simply reappear because they had already left the account. She gave me a case number and a list of records to keep.
“Will Maya owe anything because of this?” I asked.
“The account owner will receive information about the withdrawal,” she said. “Please speak with a tax professional about what it means for you.”
I wrote it down. I would deal with every consequence. Maya had not made the withdrawal.
After the call, Leah took me aside.
“I can help with Maya's first semester if you need time to sort this out.”
“I don't want you paying for Claire's choices.”
“I offered to help Maya. You can decide later.”
I thanked her. I wasn't ready to accept money. I was grateful Maya had someone besides me thinking about August.
Claire stayed in her room most of the morning. Brooke came home after lunch to collect clothes. She refused to drive the Mustang.
“Did you know there was still money owed on it?” I asked.
“No.”
“I'll find out how to return or sell it without making you responsible.”
Brooke nodded.
“I told Maya I was sorry.”
“Did she answer?”
“She said she knew I didn't take the money. Then she went upstairs.”
“Give her time.”
Brooke looked toward Claire's closed door.
“Mom says she did this for me.”
“She made the decision. It isn't yours to carry.”
Tears filled Brooke's eyes. She picked up her bag and went back to Leah's.
That afternoon, a lender sent a letter addressed to Claire at our house. I set it aside unopened. When she came downstairs, I handed it to her.
Her face changed as soon as she saw the return address.
“Another bill?” I asked.
“No.”
May you like
She slid it beneath the folder she carried. The folder's tab had a street address written on it.
It wasn't ours.
