Chapter 3 - THE FIRST NUMBER THAT DIDN’T ADD UP
Rachel canceled the next scheduled payment at 6:12 the following morning.
She did not feel triumphant.
She felt sick.
At eight, Derek called.
She let it ring.
At eight-oh-three, he called again.
At eight-ten, a text appeared.
Don’t punish your mother because you’re mad at a kid.
Rachel read it twice.
She replied with one sentence.
Where did Mom’s $1,000 a month go?
The typing bubbles appeared immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
House expenses.
Which ones?
No answer.
By noon, Helen had called Rachel unreasonable, vindictive, dramatic, and cruel.
What she never called her was wrong.
That afternoon Rachel drove back to Naperville.
Helen opened the front door but did not invite her inside.
“I want to see the ledger Dad supposedly kept.”
Helen folded her arms.
“Derek has it.”
“Have you seen it?”
“He explained it.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Helen’s face tightened.
“He showed me numbers.”
“On what?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Dad’s handwriting?”
“I said I don’t remember.”
Rachel recognized the tone from childhood. It meant Helen felt cornered and was about to turn embarrassment into authority.
Rachel stayed calm.
“Mom, did you ever see anything saying I owed seventy-two thousand dollars?”
Helen looked past her toward the street.
“No.”
There it was.
Rachel took a folder from her bag.
Inside were thirty-six confirmations from the mortgage servicer.
She handed them over.
Helen looked at the first page.
Then the second.
Her expression slowly changed.
“These came from your account?”
“Yes.”
“Every month?”
“Yes.”
Helen sat down on the bench beside the entryway.
Rachel remained standing.
After a while Helen whispered, “He told me he was adding your payments to mine.”
“He wasn’t.”
“He said you were barely covering half.”
Rachel remembered every holiday when Derek had joked about her “fancy job.”
Every time Helen had asked why Rachel traveled instead of putting family first.
Every time Derek had said, Must be nice to have money for yourself.
Rachel had swallowed all of it.
Now she understood why.
Helen handed the papers back.
“Maybe there’s an explanation.”
“There probably is.”
Helen looked relieved.
Rachel continued.
“That doesn’t mean it’s a good one.”
She turned toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To find out whether Dad ever told anyone I owed him money.”
Helen stood.
“Rachel, don’t drag outsiders into this.”
Rachel looked at her mother.
“That sentence is exactly why Derek has been able to speak for both of us for three years.”
She left before Helen could answer.
May you like
By the time Rachel reached her car, she knew where she had to begin.
Her father’s old accountant.
