Chapter 3
Marcus heard enough of my mother’s call to know I was going to the house.
“I’ll drive,” he said.
Mother had asked me to come alone. When I told her Marcus would be with me, she was quiet for several seconds.
“Then park where your father won’t see the truck,” she said.
That frightened me more than anything she had said at the club.
We arrived after dark. The front porch light was off, but Mother opened the door before I could ring the bell.
She stood back to let us in. Her makeup was gone. I had never seen her look so tired.
“Your father is at the club,” she said. “He’s trying to sort out today.”
“Today?” Marcus asked.
Mother looked at him. “I know Sarah shouldn’t have been hit.”
I waited. No apology came.
She led us into the kitchen and took an envelope from a drawer. Inside was a photocopy of a form with my name and a signature beneath it.
“Your father asked me to give him this when you were in the hospital,” she said.
The form said I had received a distribution from Grandma’s trust.
The amount made me grip the edge of the counter.
“I never got this money.”
“I know.”
Marcus leaned over the page. “This was filed with the annual accounting.”
Mother nodded.
“That isn’t my signature,” I said.
“I know that too.”
I stared at her. “When did you know?”
She sat down at the kitchen table. “I saw it last winter.”
Last winter. By then I had been making payments on my treatment for more than a year. Mother had listened when I worried that I could not afford another visit with my specialist.
“You let me think I signed away money I never received?”
“I thought your father would put it back.”
“He told me Grandma had nothing left.”
Mother pressed her fingers together. “He told me he was borrowing it.”
Marcus took the photocopy and examined the date. “Where’s the original?”
“In his office, maybe. I copied this when I found it.”
“Why give it to us now?” I asked.
Mother looked at my cheek. “When Madison hit you, I saw your face afterward. I’ve seen you look like that before.”
“Today you told me to leave.”
“I know.”
She reached toward me, then pulled her hand back. “I’ve been a coward, Sarah.”
It was the first honest thing I had heard from her in years. I was too angry to comfort her for saying it.
Marcus placed the photocopy in his folder.
“Tell your lawyer about this,” Mother said. “And please don’t tell your father I gave it to you until I can get my things.”
The front door opened.
Mother froze.
Dad entered carrying his briefcase. He stopped when he saw Marcus beside me.
“I knew you’d be here,” he said.
Mother rose. “Richard, I asked them to come.”
Dad’s gaze fell to the open envelope on the table. He understood at once.
“Give me that.”
“No,” Marcus said.
Dad set down his briefcase. “That paper is part of a private family matter.”
“You used Sarah’s name,” Marcus replied. “It became her matter the day you did.”
Dad turned to Mother. “You had no right to take anything from my office.”
“I took a copy.”
His expression hardened. “That’s worse.”
I stepped between them. “Did you sign my name?”
“I had authority to manage the trust.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He rubbed his forehead. For a second he looked old, and I felt the familiar urge to make the conversation easier for him.
Then I remembered the bills on my counter.
“You said Grandma couldn’t help me,” I told him.
“She helped this family for years.”
“She left that money to me.”
“You have no idea what it costs to keep everything afloat,” he said. “The club, the house, Madison’s wedding—”
He stopped.
Mother lowered her eyes.
“Her wedding,” I repeated.
Dad picked up his briefcase again. “I am not defending my decisions to either of you tonight. We’ll speak when you’re ready to listen.”
He headed for his office.
Marcus touched my elbow. We left before Dad could lock the door behind us or change his mind about letting us go.
In the truck, I called the number Mrs. Price’s assistant had sent.
Mrs. Price answered herself.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come over in the dining room,” she said. “By the time I understood what had happened, your brother was with you. The manager should have acted immediately.”
She told me the club had security footage of the slap. She would keep it and make sure the board saw it.
Then she hesitated.
“There may be something else,” she said. “Your father has asked the club to guarantee several payments for the wedding. I’m reviewing those requests now.”
I looked at Marcus. He could hear her through the speaker.
“Did the club agree?” he asked.
“Some payments were approved before I saw them. I want to know why.”
After the call, Marcus drove me home. He asked if I wanted him to stay, and I said yes.
He slept on my couch while I lay awake in bed, thinking of Mother’s face when Dad opened the door.
Near midnight, my phone lit up.
A message from Madison.
Dad says you’re making trouble with his accounts. Stop it before Daniel’s family hears.
I began to type that she had more to worry about than Daniel’s family.
May you like
Then a second message appeared.
I know about the trust. You have no idea how much of it is already gone.
