Chapter 2: The Woman Who Raised Him
The following morning, Desmond arrived at his mother's house before the repair crew.
Margaret lived in a modest two-bedroom home at the end of a quiet residential street. The white paint on the porch railing had begun to peel, and a small garden occupied the space beside the front steps.
It wasn't an impressive house.
But it was the first place Desmond had ever called home.
He knocked twice.
“It's open, sweetheart!””
He pushed the door inward.
Margaret stood in the kitchen wearing a faded blue cardigan. Her silver hair was tied loosely behind her head, and she was pouring coffee into two mismatched mugs.
“You're early,” she said.
“I brought breakfast.””
He lifted a paper bag from the bakery.
Margaret smiled.
“You didn't have to.””
“I know.””
He placed the bag on the table and looked toward the hallway.
A yellow plastic bucket sat beneath a dark stain on the ceiling.
Another bucket stood near the bedroom door.
A damp towel had been spread across the floor.
Desmond frowned.
“Mom, how long has it been this bad?””
Margaret continued arranging the plates.
“It's nothing serious.””
“There's water coming through the ceiling.””
“It only happens when it rains heavily.””
“That's what a leaking roof means.””
She gave him a playful look.
“You sound exactly like your father.””
Desmond smiled briefly.
His father had died when Desmond was twenty-three. Since then, Margaret had worked two jobs to keep their household running.
She had cleaned offices in the morning and prepared food for a small neighborhood café in the evening.
There were years when Desmond couldn't afford new shoes for school.
There were years when Margaret pretended she wasn't hungry so he could have the larger portion.
And there was one particular winter he had never forgotten.
He had been accepted into a technical training program, but the tuition deposit was due before his next paycheck.
He had returned home that evening ready to decline the opportunity.
Instead, he found his mother sitting at the kitchen table, counting a handful of crumpled bills.
She had sold the gold bracelet his father gave her.
“Mom, you can't sell that.””
She had smiled and placed the money in his hand.
“Jewelry can be replaced. Your future cannot.””
Desmond had carried that memory through every difficult year of his adult life.
Now he had a stable job, a home of his own, and enough money to help the people he loved.
Paying for a roof seemed like the smallest thing he could do.
Margaret pulled out a chair.
“Sit down before your coffee gets cold.””
He sat.
She placed a plate in front of him.
“Have you and Nadia been getting along?””
Desmond looked up.
“Why do you ask?””
“Because you didn't sound happy on the phone yesterday.””
He took a sip of coffee.
“We had a disagreement.””
“About the repairs?””
He nodded.
Margaret lowered herself into the opposite chair.
“I don't want to be the reason you have trouble in your marriage.””
“You aren't.””
“Desmond, listen to me. I know I'm your mother, but Nadia is your wife. You have a family of your own now.””
“I know that.””
“Then make sure you don't neglect her.””
He put his cup down.
“Mom, I haven't neglected her.””
“I know you love her. But sometimes people don't see things the same way.””
Desmond studied his mother's face.
Even now, she was worrying about his marriage while sitting beneath a leaking ceiling.
A knock interrupted them.
The repair supervisor stood outside with two workers.
“Mr. Desmond? We're here about the roof.””
Desmond stood immediately.
“Come in. I'll show you the damaged areas.””
For the next twenty minutes, they inspected the ceiling, attic, and roofline. The supervisor explained that several sections of old roofing material had deteriorated, allowing rainwater to seep beneath the protective layer.
“Fortunately, we caught it before the timber became seriously damaged,” he said.
“But I'd recommend replacing the affected section rather than patching it again.””
“Do whatever is necessary,” Desmond replied.
Margaret approached from the kitchen.
“Could you just repair the worst part?””
Desmond shook his head.
“Mom, we're fixing it properly.””
The supervisor nodded.
“I'll prepare the final paperwork.””
After the workers left to collect their equipment, Margaret stood beside her son on the porch.
“You really shouldn't spend so much money.””
“Mom.””
“I'm serious. That money could go toward your future.””
He smiled.
“My future includes knowing you have a safe place to sleep.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
She quickly looked away.
Then Desmond's phone rang.
Nadia.
He answered.
“Morning.””
“Where are you?””
“At Mom's house. The contractors just inspected the roof.””
“I figured.””
There was something sharp in her voice.
Desmond stepped away from his mother.
“What happened?””
“Your business partner called.””
Desmond frowned.
“What business partner?””
“The equipment supplier. He says the remaining payment for my salon hasn't cleared.””
Desmond straightened.
“That's impossible. I transferred the money last week.””
“Well, apparently there's a problem.””
“Send me the invoice.””
“I already did.””
Desmond opened his messages.
There it was.
An invoice for additional salon equipment, including two premium styling chairs, a second professional hair dryer, and a decorative reception display.
He stared at the total.
It was significantly higher than the amount they had originally discussed.
“Nadia, did you order all of this?””
“Yes. I needed the salon to look professional.””
“You already had three styling chairs.””
“Three isn't enough.””
“Your salon hasn't even been open for two weeks.””
Her voice hardened.
“So now you're questioning how I run my business?””
“I'm asking about the extra expense.””
“Don't worry. I'll figure it out myself.””
“Nadia, send me the invoice. I'll look at it when I get home.””
“No. You have your mother's roof to worry about.””
The call ended.
Desmond lowered his phone.
Across the porch, Margaret had heard enough to understand that something was wrong.
She walked toward him.
“Is everything okay?””
He forced a smile.
“It's fine.””
But as he looked at the invoice again, he noticed something unusual.
The supplier's document showed that the additional equipment had already been delivered and signed for.
The signature belonged to Nadia.
And beneath it was a handwritten note.
Charge the remaining balance to the family account.
Desmond read the words twice.
He had never agreed to a family account for salon expenses.
He called the supplier.
“Hello, this is Desmond. I'm calling about an invoice for my wife's salon.””
The receptionist transferred him to the accounts department.
After confirming his details, a woman named Patricia opened the file.
“Yes, sir. I see the outstanding balance.””
“Can you tell me when the order was placed?””
“Certainly. It was placed last Friday.””
“Who authorized the payment arrangement?””
There was a pause.
“Mrs. Nadia requested that the balance be charged to the account connected with the original salon purchase.””
Desmond frowned.
“Was that account approved for additional purchases?””
“I'm afraid I can't answer that without reviewing the authorization.””
“Please do.””
Patricia typed for several seconds.
Then she stopped.
“Sir, there's something you should know.””
Desmond tightened his grip on the phone.
“What is it?””
“The person who placed the order also asked us to prepare a second invoice under a different name.””
“Whose name?””
Patricia hesitated.
Then she read it aloud.
“Margaret Desmond.””
Desmond went completely still.
May you like
His mother was standing only a few feet away.
And suddenly, he understood that the argument about the roof might have been hiding something much bigger.
