Chapter 5
Karen closed the bedroom door behind her.
That small movement made me angry.
Still managing appearances.
Still making sure nobody heard.
Even though nobody else was home.
“Sit down,” she said.
“No.”
“Rick, please.”
“No.”
I held the papers.
“You're going to stand there and explain why you secretly invested sixty thousand dollars.”
Her eyes flashed.
“It wasn't sixty at first.”
I almost laughed.
“That makes it better?”
“It was twenty-five.”
“With Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He had an opportunity.”
“What opportunity?”
“A foreclosure property. We were going to renovate and sell it.”
“Using whose money?”
She looked away.
“Some of ours.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Fifteen.”
Fifteen thousand dollars from our marriage.
Gone without my knowledge.
“And the other ten?”
“My savings.”
“What savings?”
She didn't answer.
I understood.
“The account Harold paid into.”
“Not originally.”
“How long have you had that account?”
“Six years.”
Six years.
I sat down because suddenly I needed the bed beneath me.
“Why?”
“For myself.”
“You have access to every account we own.”
“I wanted something that was mine.”
“You could have told me.”
“You would have asked questions.”
I stared at her.
“Yes, Karen. Married people tend to ask questions when tens of thousands of dollars disappear.”
She started crying.
I had seen Karen cry many times.
Normally, I would soften.
That day, I watched.
The tears didn't erase what she had done.
“The property had problems,” she said.
“What problems?”
“Foundation damage. Liens. Daniel didn't know everything.”
“And then?”
“We needed more money.”
“So you took more.”
“I thought we'd recover it.”
“From where?”
She pressed both hands together.
“A credit line.”
My stomach dropped again.
“What credit line?”
“Our home equity line.”
I stood so fast the mattress bounced.
“You borrowed against our house?”
“Only temporarily.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-seven thousand.”
I stared.
“You put our house at risk?”
“We are not losing the house.”
“You don't get to say that like you have credibility left.”
She cried harder.
“I was fixing it.”
“You were hiding it.”
“I was trying to fix it before you knew.”
“That is hiding it.”
Her voice rose.
“What did you want me to do? Tell you I made a mistake and watch you run to Jack?”
I stopped.
There he was again.
My father.
Even in this.
“What does Dad have to do with anything?”
“You tell him everything.”
“No, I don't.”
“You value his opinion more than mine.”
“That isn't true.”
“It is.”
She pointed at the papers.
“This is why I didn't tell you.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You didn't tell me because you knew I'd stop you.”
Karen wiped her cheeks.
“You never believe in me.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“This isn't about believing in you.”
“It always is.”
“When have I stopped you from doing anything?”
She hesitated.
I waited.
Nothing.
Because I hadn't.
Karen had changed careers twice.
I supported her.
She spent three years taking night classes.
I handled dinners.
School pickups.
Housework.
When she wanted to quit her job and freelance, I said we could make it work.
The accusation wasn't real.
It was another shield.
“What happened to Harold's twenty thousand?”
“I paid Daniel.”
“And Dad's ten thousand?”
“I never got it.”
“You tried.”
She looked down.
I felt sick.
“What did you tell your parents?”
“That Jack needed help.”
“And Dad?”
“That you needed help.”
I laughed once.
“You made my father and me into fake financial disasters so you could steal money.”
“I didn't steal it.”
“You obtained money through lies.”
“My parents gave it to me.”
“For Dad.”
Silence.
I stepped closer.
“Did you ever plan to tell them?”
“When I paid everything back.”
“You mean if.”
She flinched.
I didn't feel guilty.
“Why Thanksgiving?”
“What?”
“Why exclude Dad yesterday?”
Her face hardened again.
“I already told you.”
“No. You gave me the insult. I want the reason.”
Karen turned toward the window.
For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer.
Then she whispered.
“He asked me about the money.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“What did he say?”
“He wanted to know whether your business was okay.”
I closed my eyes.
Dad had begun connecting things.
“He said he was going to ask you directly.”
“And you didn't want him near me.”
Karen said nothing.
“So you called him and made sure he didn't come.”
“I panicked.”
“You humiliated him to keep your secret.”
“I didn't mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
My voice cracked.
“You knew exactly which words would make him stay home.”
Dad's pride.
His clothes.
His work.
The things Karen knew he already felt self-conscious about around her polished family.
She used them like weapons.
“I never thought you'd take the dinner.”
There it was.
Not regret for hurting Dad.
Regret that I reacted unexpectedly.
My phone rang.
Tyler.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Hey.”
“Dad, are you home?”
“Yes.”
He sounded strange.
“Can you come to Grandpa's?”
I looked at Karen.
“Why?”
“Someone was at his house.”
My body tightened.
“Who?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
Karen gasped.
Tyler heard.
“So Mom knows who he is.”
I stared at her.
“What did Daniel want?”
“He was asking Grandpa for money.”
My blood went cold.
“I'll be there.”
Karen moved toward me.
“Rick, wait.”
I stepped back.
“Don't touch me.”
Her face crumpled.
That was the first moment I saw genuine fear.
Not fear of embarrassment.
Fear of consequences.
I drove too fast to Dad's house.
Daniel was gone when I arrived.
Tyler stood on the porch.
Dad was inside.
“What happened?”
Tyler handed me a business card.
Daniel Mercer.
Property consultant.
“Grandpa said the guy claimed Mom sent him.”
I walked inside.
Dad was sitting at the kitchen table.
He looked angry now.
That was rare.
“What did he say?”
Dad placed both palms flat on the table.
“He said Karen told him I might be willing to help protect your house.”
My jaw clenched.
“How much?”
“Thirty thousand.”
Emily swore under her breath.
Dad looked at me.
“I told him to leave.”
“Good.”
“He didn't want to.”
My chest tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“He kept pushing.”
Tyler stepped forward.
“I got here while he was still on the porch.”
Dad continued.
“He said if Karen doesn't pay what she owes, things are going to get unpleasant.”
I looked at the business card again.
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not directly.”
Dad's eyes hardened.
“But he wanted me scared.”
I pulled out my phone.
Karen had sent eleven messages.
I ignored them.
Then Dad said something I wasn't expecting.
“Rick.”
I looked up.
“There's one more thing.”
He went to a drawer.
From the back, he removed an envelope.
Inside was a photocopy.
A document with my signature.
Except I had never signed it.
I read the title.
Loan Guarantee Agreement.
My name appeared at the bottom.
Dad's did too.
Both signatures were fake.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Dad said quietly, “Daniel left that last week.”
My hands began shaking.
This wasn't just lying anymore.
It wasn't just hidden debt.
Someone had forged our names.
I looked at my children.
Then at my father.
“Call your mother.”
Emily stared at me.
“Why?”
“Tell her not to leave the house.”
May you like
I folded the document.
“Because this just became a legal problem.”
