Chapter 14 - The Last Thing Natalie Had Hidden
Natalie came to Diane’s house on a Sunday afternoon.
Rosa was there.
Not hovering.
Present.
Natalie noticed and said nothing.
Diane placed the black binder on the coffee table.
Natalie sat across from it.
“I lied about one more thing,” she said.
Diane waited.
“When Dad died, you gave me fifteen thousand dollars.”
“I remember.”
“I told you it was to pay off the last of our credit cards.”
“It wasn’t?”
“Some was.”
Natalie swallowed.
“I used nine thousand to keep the house looking normal.”
Diane frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Furniture. Landscaping. A trip Evan said we shouldn’t take. Things I thought people would notice if we stopped.”
Diane closed her eyes.
Natalie continued.
“I kept thinking if everything still looked the same, then I hadn’t become someone Dad would be ashamed of.”
Diane opened her eyes.
“Your father grew up poor. He was afraid of instability. He was never ashamed of ordinary people.”
“I know that now.”
“Do you?”
Natalie nodded.
Then looked at Rosa.
“I’m sorry I put my hands on her.”
Rosa did not answer immediately.
Finally she said, “You should be apologizing to your mother.”
“I already did.”
Diane shook her head.
“No. You explained. You admitted. Those aren’t the same thing.”
Natalie looked at her mother.
This time there were no tears.
“I assaulted you because you wouldn’t give me money. I tried to use your identity because I thought you would forgive me afterward. I lied to Evan. I lied to you. And I kept making everyone else responsible for keeping me from feeling ashamed.”
Diane said nothing.
Natalie pushed the black binder toward her.
“You don’t have to protect me anymore.”
May you like
The sentence hurt more than any confession.
Because it sounded like the first thing Natalie had said in years that did not contain a request.
