Chapter 2
“Mom,” Harrison said, “we need to settle the purse.”
I stood at my bedroom window with the bank envelope in my hand.
“Come home,” I told him. “I found something we need to discuss first.”
“What?”
“I’ll show you when you get here.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Is this another argument about Sloan?”
“It concerns your access to my bank account.”
His breathing changed.
“I’m leaving work now,” he said.
I called Brenda before he arrived. She was my oldest friend, and I needed someone who knew me well enough to interrupt if I began making excuses for him.
She came through the back door twenty minutes later. I showed her the statements at the kitchen table.
“Lorraine,” she whispered.
“I kept thinking the next page would explain the one before it.”
She turned to a charge from a luxury hotel downtown.
“Were you there?”
“No.”
The front door opened.
Harrison stopped when he saw Brenda. Sloan followed him into the kitchen, carrying a shopping bag.
“I thought you wanted to talk privately,” he said.
“I asked Brenda to be here.”
Sloan placed her bag on a chair.
“Are we finally going to discuss my purse?”
I slid the statements across the table.
Harrison read the first page. He knew what he was looking at before he reached the second.
“Mom, I was going to tell you.”
“How much did you take?”
“Some of those are household expenses.”
“Which ones?”
He picked out a grocery charge. I acknowledged it and asked about the rest.
Sloan leaned over his shoulder.
“You gave him access,” she said.
“For emergencies.”
“We were trying to save for a home. Living here wasn’t our final plan.”
I looked at the hotel charge again.
“Did saving for a home require this?”
Harrison pushed the papers away.
“I covered some things for us. I thought I could replace the money before you noticed.”
“You thought I wouldn’t look.”
“I thought you trusted me.”
I nearly laughed. Trust was the reason he had the card.
“Did Sloan know the account was mine?”
“She knows now,” he said.
Sloan’s face tightened.
“I knew his mother was helping us while we got on our feet. I didn’t know you’d turn every purchase into a crime.”
Brenda put her hand over mine beneath the table. I kept my voice steady.
“The bank is reviewing the charges. I’ve removed Harrison’s access.”
His head snapped up.
“You went to the bank before asking me?”
“I asked you just now. You told me you meant to put the money back.”
“I will.”
“How? When?”
He looked at Sloan.
Neither of them answered.
I told them they needed to find another place to stay. I would give them written notice and enough time to arrange a move.
Harrison stared at me.
“You’d put us out over money?”
“I’m asking you to leave because I no longer feel comfortable with you living here.”
Sloan picked up her shopping bag.
“Come on,” she told him. “She wants an audience for this.”
They went upstairs. A door shut hard enough to shake the photograph of Peter on the kitchen shelf.
Brenda waited until I was breathing normally again.
“Do you have a lawyer?” she asked.
“I know one who helped with Peter’s estate.”
“Call her.”
I did. Attorney Grace Benton could see me the next morning.
Before Brenda left, she took a photograph of the marks still faintly visible on my arm from where Harrison had grabbed it during an argument weeks before. I had dismissed that moment too. Brenda asked me to tell Grace about it.
The following day, Grace examined the statements and the account paperwork. She explained the difference between charges Harrison had permission to make and those he did not. The bank would investigate, and she could help me request repayment and handle notice about the house.
“Do you have other accounts he can reach?” she asked.
“One savings account. His name isn’t on it.”
“We’ll verify that. Change your passwords too.”
I felt foolish needing to be told. Grace spoke gently, as if she understood that I had been doing my best with facts I had never wanted to know.
At home that evening, I found Sloan in my dining room with two strangers. She was showing them where Peter and I used to set up the Christmas tree.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“They’re from an apartment agency,” she said. “We’re looking at options.”
The visitors stood awkwardly. One apologized. I told them they had done nothing wrong.
After they left, Sloan faced me.
“You told us to move. We’re trying.”
“You could have told me people were coming.”
“Now I need your permission to speak in the dining room?”
I went upstairs. My bedroom lock caught when I shut it, and for the first time I was grateful for the sound.
An hour later, I heard Harrison in the hall.
“Mom? I can pay back part of it right now.”
I opened the door a few inches.
“How much?”
“Five thousand. If you tell the bank we’ve worked it out.”
“Send Grace the offer in writing.”
His expression fell.
“You’re making me deal with a lawyer?”
“I need us both to know exactly what we agree to.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I didn’t think it would get this far.”
“I didn’t either.”
As I closed the door, Sloan called his name from downstairs. Harrison turned toward her voice without saying anything else.
I looked at the photograph of Peter on my dresser.
May you like
He had always told Harrison that a promise meant more when you kept it after it became difficult.
I hoped my son still remembered.
