[CHAPTER 4]
I called Melissa from the backyard.
I wanted the girls close enough that I could see them through the glass doors but far enough that they couldn’t hear.
Melissa answered on the first ring.
“Thank God.”
“What do you know?”
No greeting.
No pretending.
I was finished pretending.
She exhaled.
“A lot.”
My stomach tightened.
“Start talking.”
“Your mom is telling everyone you had some kind of breakdown yesterday.”
I almost smiled from anger.
“Of course she is.”
“She says you screamed at people, scared Rosie, and accused her of stealing.”
“Did she mention Emily’s hand?”
Melissa went quiet.
“That’s why I called.”
I waited.
“I saw Emily in the kitchen before you came home.”
“And?”
“I asked Diane why she was doing all those dishes.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did Mom say?”
“She said Emily had been disrespectful and needed to learn gratitude.”
I closed my eyes.
“You left her there.”
“I know.”
Melissa’s voice cracked.
“I’m ashamed of that.”
That surprised me.
Most of my relatives had spent the last eighteen hours defending themselves.
Melissa sounded sick.
“I should have stopped it.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
I appreciated that she didn’t make excuses.
“What else?”
She hesitated.
“Diane has been paying for family things for years.”
“With my money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me what she pays for.”
“Dinners. Trips. Gifts. Aunt Linda’s utility bill sometimes. Uncle Raymond’s insurance last year. She helped my brother with a car repair.”
I stared at the fence.
My mother was retired.
Her pension was modest.
I had assumed she lived comfortably because her house had been paid off after my father died.
“Where did everyone think the money came from?”
“She said she had investments.”
“My father didn’t leave investments.”
“I didn’t know that.”
I believed Melissa.
Most of the family probably had not asked.
Why would they question free dinners?
“Did anyone ever hear her mention the money I send?”
“Yes.”
My heart sank.
“What did she say?”
“That you paid her because you couldn’t manage the girls.”
There it was again.
The story my mother had been building.
“She told people you begged her to practically raise them.”
“I never said that.”
“I know that now.”
“Why now?”
Melissa became quiet.
“Because of something she said last night.”
“What?”
“We were at Linda’s after we left your house.”
Of course they were.
“Diane was furious. She kept saying you would come crawling back when you realized you couldn’t handle your job and the kids.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Then she said she had protected herself.”
A cold sensation moved through my stomach.
“Protected herself how?”
“She said she had proof of everything she had done for those girls.”
“What proof?”
“I asked.”
“And?”
“She told me to mind my business.”
The folder.
I thought of what Emily had seen.
“Melissa, has she ever talked about custody?”
There was a pause.
“Once.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“Maybe six months ago. We were at lunch. She said if anything happened with your job or another relationship, she could step in permanently.”
“Permanently?”
“She laughed afterward. I thought she was joking.”
My mother did not joke about control.
“Did she say anything else?”
“She said she was already more of a parent than you were.”
I sat down on the patio chair.
For years, Diane had criticized my schedule.
My divorce.
My parenting.
I thought that was simply who she was.
Now I wondered if every criticism had been part of something larger.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I saw Emily’s face.”
Melissa’s voice softened.
“When you walked in, she looked relieved for half a second. Then she looked scared.”
I remembered it too.
“She shouldn’t be scared of her grandmother.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Claire.”
I swallowed.
“Will you put what you saw yesterday in writing?”
Melissa hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Even if my mother gets angry?”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
“Thank you.”
Before we hung up, Melissa said, “There’s something else.”
“What?”
“I don’t think the birthday party was really for Rosie.”
I almost laughed.
“I figured that out.”
“No, I mean Diane had been planning it for weeks as a family dinner. She only started calling it Rosie’s birthday after you asked what she was doing for the girls.”
I stared through the window at Rosie playing with the stuffed rabbit.
The toy I had dropped yesterday had survived beneath a kitchen chair.
Emily had found it that morning and given it to her.
Rosie had hugged it like treasure.
“So my daughter’s birthday was an excuse.”
“I think so.”
“Why was Emily washing everything?”
Melissa sighed.
“Because Diane told her she had embarrassed her in front of Aunt Linda.”
“How?”
“Emily asked when Rosie could open presents.”
I shut my eyes.
That was the offense.
An eleven-year-old asking when her four-year-old sister could open birthday presents at her own birthday party.
I thanked Melissa and ended the call.
When I went inside, Emily was cutting paper ears for Rosie’s rabbit.
They both looked up.
For a second, I saw what our home should have felt like all along.
Quiet.
Safe.
Ordinary.
Then the doorbell rang.
Emily froze.
Rosie grabbed the rabbit.
I checked the camera.
Aunt Linda.
I almost ignored her.
Then I saw she was holding a large envelope.
I opened the door but kept the chain latched.
Linda’s face tightened.
“Seriously?”
“What do you want?”
“To stop you from destroying this family.”
“I’m not the one who did that.”
She shoved the envelope toward the opening.
“Mom asked me to bring this.”
“What is it?”
“Read it.”
I took the envelope.
Linda crossed her arms.
“She wants the money you owe her.”
I stared at her.
“What money?”
“For childcare.”
I almost laughed.
“I paid her thirty-six thousand dollars a year.”
“She says that was household reimbursement.”
“For my household?”
Linda rolled her eyes.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I really don’t.”
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a typed document.
At the top were the words CHILDCARE BALANCE DUE.
My mother claimed I owed her $48,600.
There were dates.
Hours.
Late fees.
Mileage charges.
Overnight rates.
Some dates went back three years.
At the bottom was my signature.
Except I had never signed that document.
I stared at it.
Linda mistook my silence for fear.
“Mom said she doesn’t want to make this ugly.”
I looked up slowly.
“Did you see me sign this?”
“What?”
“This agreement.”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
“I don’t know.”
I held the page closer.
The signature looked like mine.
Almost.
Then I noticed something.
It was the same signature I used on an old authorization form for Emily’s school.
A form my mother had once picked up for me.
My skin went cold.
“This is forged.”
Linda’s confidence flickered.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I never signed it.”
“She has a copy.”
“I’m holding the copy.”
“Claire—”
“Tell Mom I’m keeping this.”
Linda reached toward the door.
“She didn’t say you could keep it.”
I nearly smiled.
“She sent me a demand for forty-eight thousand dollars. I’m definitely keeping it.”
I started to close the door.
Linda pushed it with her palm.
“You need to think carefully.”
I stopped.
“About what?”
“If you start accusing Mom of fraud, she’ll tell people what kind of mother you really are.”
For one second, neither of us moved.
Then I understood.
Linda knew about the threats.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
I looked directly at my sister.
“Get your hand off my door.”
She did.
I closed it.
Locked it.
Then I photographed every page of the fake agreement.
My phone rang while I was doing it.
Mark.
My ex-husband.
I answered.
“Claire, what the hell is going on?”
My heart sank.
“What did Diane tell you?”
“She said you’re unstable and refusing to let her see the girls.”
I closed my eyes.
Then Mark continued.
“And she says Emily told her she wants to live with her.”
I looked toward the living room.
May you like
Emily was smiling at Rosie.
My mother had started her next move.
