Chapter 2
Nobody moved.
Not Diane.
Not Michael.
Not me.
Even Evan seemed to understand that something had changed.
My mother still had water dripping from the ends of her hair.
But she looked calmer than anyone at the table.
Diane stared at the envelope.
Then her expression hardened.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
My mom gave a small nod.
“That’s exactly what Robert said you would say.”
Michael pushed his chair back.
The legs scraped hard against the floor.
“Mom.”
He wasn’t talking to Diane.
He was looking at my mother.
“What is that?”
Linda turned the envelope over in her hands.
“It’s something your father gave me a long time ago.”
Michael’s face looked almost gray.
“My father knew you?”
That question hit me strangely.
My mom had never once mentioned knowing Robert.
Robert had died when Michael was seventeen.
I had seen pictures of him.
A tall man with dark hair and a serious face.
Michael rarely talked about his father.
Diane talked about him constantly.
According to her, Robert had been successful, loyal, generous, respected by everyone.
The kind of man Diane used as a weapon whenever Michael disappointed her.
“Your father would be ashamed.”
“Your father would never allow this.”
“Your father built this family.”
I had heard those sentences for fourteen years.
Now my mother was holding an envelope with Robert’s handwriting on it.
Diane stood.
“Give me that.”
My mom didn’t move.
“No.”
“You stole it.”
“No.”
“You had no right to keep anything belonging to my husband.”
Linda looked directly at her.
“He asked me to.”
Diane laughed.
A short, ugly sound.
“Robert barely knew you.”
My mother’s eyes changed.
“He knew me better than you think.”
Michael stepped closer to the table.
“How?”
My mom looked at him.
Then at me.
I could tell she was making a decision.
Finally she said, “Before your father met Diane, he worked with my older brother.”
“My dad?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At a small construction company in Franklin.”
I frowned.
“Uncle David?”
My mother nodded.
My uncle David had died twelve years earlier.
He had owned a roofing and construction business when he was younger.
I knew that much.
I also knew Mom had worked in his office for several years after high school.
But I had never heard Robert’s name connected to him.
Michael looked stunned.
“My father worked construction?”
“For a few years.”
Diane crossed her arms.
“This is ancient history.”
My mother glanced at her.
“It became current history the moment you threw water in my face and started talking about whose family this is.”
Diane’s jaw tightened.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
But Michael looked too shaken.
“What’s in the envelope?”
My mother hesitated.
“A letter.”
“From Dad?”
“Yes.”
“To you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Linda looked down at it.
“Because twenty-five years ago, your father came to my house scared out of his mind.”
Diane slammed her hand against the table.
“That’s enough.”
Evan flinched.
I immediately moved closer to him.
“Mom,” Michael said.
Diane ignored him.
She pointed at Linda.
“You walk into my son’s house carrying some old piece of paper and suddenly you think you can rewrite my marriage?”
My mother folded the napkin beside her plate.
“No, Diane.”
She stood.
“You rewrote it yourself.”
Diane took one step toward her.
Michael moved between them.
“Stop.”
For once, his voice was firm.
Diane froze.
Michael looked at my mom again.
“What was Dad afraid of?”
Linda looked at Diane.
“Your mother.”
Everything inside the room seemed to stop.
Michael stared at her.
I stared at Diane.
Diane burst out laughing.
“You’re insane.”
“No.”
“My husband was afraid of me?”
“Yes.”
“Robert adored me.”
“I’m sure part of him did.”
Diane’s face changed.
My mother continued.
“But he was also terrified of what would happen if you learned he planned to leave.”
Michael grabbed the back of a chair.
“What?”
Diane shouted, “She’s lying!”
My mother didn’t raise her voice.
“Robert wanted a divorce.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“He had already met with an attorney.”
Diane lunged toward the envelope.
Michael stopped her.
“Mom!”
“Give me that!”
“Back up.”
Diane stared at her son.
“You’re taking her side?”
“I’m trying to understand what’s happening.”
“She is humiliating me in front of my grandson!”
I could not believe what I was hearing.
I stood.
“You threw water in my mother’s face ten minutes ago.”
Diane turned on me.
“And this has nothing to do with you.”
“It’s my house.”
“Oh, please.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“This is exactly the problem.”
Diane narrowed her eyes.
“What problem?”
“You think every room you enter belongs to you.”
She laughed bitterly.
“I paid for half the down payment on this house.”
Michael’s head snapped toward her.
“What?”
I stared at him.
“What does she mean?”
Michael didn’t answer.
Diane’s expression shifted.
She realized she had said something she shouldn’t have.
My stomach tightened.
“Michael.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“It wasn’t half.”
“How much?”
“Emily—”
“How much?”
He looked at me.
“Forty thousand.”
I felt as if someone had slapped me.
“You told me that money came from your bonus.”
“It was complicated.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Diane smiled.
“See? Your husband understands family.”
My mother quietly said, “No. He understands debt.”
Diane turned toward her.
“You stay out of this.”
My mom held up the envelope.
“Robert told me the exact same thing once.”
Michael stared at her.
“When?”
“The night he came to my apartment.”
“Why did he come to you?”
“Because he trusted my brother, and David wasn’t home.”
My mom’s voice became softer.
“He had a suitcase in his trunk.”
Diane’s face tightened.
“He said he was leaving Nashville.”
“Stop lying.”
“He said he planned to take Michael with him.”
Michael’s breath caught.
“What?”
I looked at Diane.
For the first time, she seemed frightened.
Not angry.
Frightened.
My mom continued.
“Robert believed you were hiding money.”
Diane laughed again.
“Ridiculous.”
“He said money had disappeared from accounts connected to his business.”
“That was his money.”
“He said some of it belonged to investors.”
Diane’s eyes flashed.
“Your dead brother was a drunk. Maybe Robert told him whatever nonsense they wanted to believe.”
My mother’s face went still.
“Do not talk about David.”
“Why? Because the truth hurts?”
Michael slammed his palm against the table.
“Enough!”
Everyone went silent.
I had never heard my husband shout at his mother like that.
He looked at Linda.
“Please.”
His voice broke slightly.
“Just tell me.”
My mother looked at him with something close to pity.
“The night before your father died, he called me.”
Michael swallowed.
“What did he say?”
“He said Diane knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That he had spoken to a lawyer.”
Diane grabbed her purse.
“I’m leaving.”
Michael blocked her path.
“No.”
Her eyes widened.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not walking out now.”
“You don’t control me.”
“Then answer one question.”
She stared at him.
“Did Dad want a divorce?”
“No.”
My mom spoke quietly.
“He did.”
Diane rounded on her.
“You shut your mouth.”
Michael flinched.
Something changed in his expression.
Maybe because his mother had stopped pretending to be civilized.
Maybe because he had spent his entire life believing one version of his father.
“Mom,” he said. “How did Dad die?”
I knew the basic story.
Robert had suffered a heart attack while driving home late one night.
His car crossed into a ditch.
He died before the ambulance arrived.
Michael had been seventeen.
Diane had always described it as sudden.
Tragic.
Natural.
Now she looked toward the window instead of her son.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Because Dad supposedly planned to leave you the night before.”
“So?”
“And Linda is holding a letter you clearly don’t want me to read.”
Diane’s lips pressed together.
Michael reached toward my mother.
“Can I see it?”
Linda hesitated.
Then handed him the envelope.
Diane moved instantly.
“No!”
She grabbed Michael’s wrist.
I jumped.
Michael stared at his mother’s hand.
“Let go.”
“Michael, give it to me.”
“Let go.”
“Your father was sick. He said things he didn’t mean.”
“You just said she was lying.”
Diane stopped.
Michael slowly pulled his wrist free.
He opened the envelope.
Inside were several folded pages.
And something else.
A photograph.
It slipped onto the table.
I picked it up.
Robert stood beside a car.
My mother stood near him.
My uncle David was there too.
And next to Robert was another woman.
Not Diane.
She was holding a little boy.
The child looked about four.
Michael looked at the picture.
Then at my mother.
“Who is that?”
Linda’s eyes filled with sadness.
“I don’t know her name.”
Diane suddenly whispered, “Put that down.”
I turned toward her.
She was staring at the photograph.
Not at Robert.
At the child.
Michael noticed too.
“Mom.”
Diane said nothing.
“Who is he?”
Her face tightened.
“I don’t know.”
My mother spoke.
“You do.”
Diane looked at her with pure hatred.
Linda continued.
“Robert said that boy was the reason he finally decided to tell Michael the truth.”
Michael looked completely lost.
“What truth?”
My mom looked at him.
May you like
Then she said the sentence that broke the entire night open.
“Robert told me you weren’t his only son.”
