Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN SHE COULDN’T CALL ANYMORE
Claire stopped answering her mother.
It hurt more than leaving Grant.
Grant had become controlling gradually enough that Claire could identify the stages in retrospect.
Her mother had always been her mother.
The woman who brought chicken soup when Claire had the flu.
The woman who stayed up all night sewing rhinestones back onto Claire’s high-school dance costume because they couldn’t afford another one.
The woman who knew Paul’s death had broken something in both of them.
Now Claire could not tell whether every sympathetic phone call of the past two years had also been a report.
Grant adjusted quickly.
When anger failed, he became reasonable.
He emailed instead of calling.
I’m worried about you.
I’m worried about our daughter.
I understand you need space.
Please don’t create financial damage we can’t undo.
That last sentence appeared in four separate messages.
Not marriage.
Not love.
Financial damage.
Owen noticed it too.
He came to Claire’s hotel on Sunday carrying takeout barbecue and an expression she recognized from childhood: his face when he knew he had defended the wrong person.
“Mom says you’re trying to bankrupt Grant.”
“I refused to give him my inheritance.”
“That’s not exactly the same thing.”
“Apparently not.”
Owen put the food on the counter.
“She told me those payments were for consulting.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No.”
It was the first time anyone in Claire’s family had said it plainly.
He sat across from her.
“There’s something else.”
Claire waited.
“When Dad died, Mom had more money than she told us.”
Claire frowned.
“How much?”
“I don’t know. But I remember them arguing about life insurance years before. Dad wanted enough to pay off the house.”
“The house wasn’t paid off.”
“I know.”
Owen rubbed his jaw.
“I never thought about it until now.”
Claire did.
Paul’s funeral had been followed by confusion.
Bills.
Passwords nobody knew.
A business credit card no one could close because the account was tied to a company Paul had already dissolved.
Diane had insisted there was very little life insurance.
Grant appeared two months later with answers.
He helped with the mortgage.
He explained investments.
He knew exactly which bills had to be paid.
At the time, Claire had been grateful.
Now gratitude felt like a room with no windows.
Owen looked toward her stomach.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Fair.”
Claire almost smiled.
Then Owen said, “I can go through Mom’s tax boxes.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you stealing anything.”
“I’m not stealing. Half those boxes are Dad’s records, and she asked me to move them last month.”
Claire considered it.
“If you find something you’re already allowed to see, photograph the label and tell me what it is. Don’t take it.”
Owen nodded.
As he stood to leave, he stopped.
“Claire?”
“Yeah?”
“If Mom was taking money from him to report on you…”
He couldn’t finish.
Claire did it for him.
“Then I don’t know who she was protecting.”
Two days later, Owen sent one photograph.
It was a tax form issued to Diane by Mercer Residential Partners.
May you like
The description read CONSULTING COMPENSATION.
But the first payment date was from before Grant had supposedly rescued the Hall family at all.
