Chapter 2 - The Debt Mark Never Mentioned
Mark opened the refrigerator.
Claire watched him stare into it without taking anything out.
“What happened to the home-equity line?”
“Nothing.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
He shut the refrigerator harder than necessary.
“The company used some of it.”
Claire waited.
“How much?”
“Claire, today is not the day.”
“My father died three days ago and apparently that didn’t stop you from discussing his money.”
Mark rubbed both hands over his face.
“One hundred fifty-six.”
She blinked.
“Dollars?”
He said nothing.
Claire knew.
“One hundred fifty-six thousand dollars?”
“It wasn’t all at once.”
“When?”
“Over the last year and a half.”
“You told me the line was basically untouched.”
“It was when I told you.”
“And then you borrowed against our house without telling me.”
“You signed the documents.”
Claire remembered the refinancing.
A stack of forms at the kitchen table.
Mark turning pages.
Sticky notes beside signature blocks.
A lender joining briefly by phone.
She had asked whether the credit line was only there for emergencies.
Mark had said yes.
Apparently his definition of emergency had expanded without hers.
“What did you spend it on?”
“Payroll. Suppliers. Deposits. Normal business expenses.”
“Holloway Custom Renovations is losing money?”
“It’s having a difficult year.”
“You borrowed a hundred fifty-six thousand dollars against our home.”
“To protect the company.”
“And you never told me.”
“You don’t understand construction cash flow.”
That sentence hurt more than it should have.
Because Claire recognized it.
You don’t understand.
He had used those words about taxes.
Investments.
Insurance.
His business.
Their mortgage.
For years, Claire had treated it as division of labor.
Mark understood finances.
Claire understood patients, insurance authorizations, her aging parents, household schedules, birthdays, Christmas, groceries, and the hundred invisible tasks that kept their life running.
She suddenly wondered whether division of labor was simply the polite name she had given exclusion.
“How did Dad know?”
Mark looked away.
“How did my father know about the home-equity line?”
“He didn’t.”
“He wrote it.”
“Then he guessed.”
William Bennett did many things.
Guessing about six-figure debt was not one of them.
Claire folded the letter and put it back into the envelope.
She picked up her purse.
Mark moved toward the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
“Mom’s.”
“We’re talking.”
“No. You’re explaining only what I already discovered.”
“Don’t walk out.”
Claire looked at him.
He was not touching her now.
He didn’t have to.
Twenty-two years of habit filled the space between them.
She stepped around him.
Mark’s voice followed her.
“If you drag your mother into this, you’ll regret it.”
Claire stopped.
Slowly turned.
“My mother’s husband was buried three days ago.”
Mark opened his mouth.
Claire waited.
He seemed to hear himself too late.
She left.
At the first traffic light, her phone buzzed.
MARK:
DO NOT CALL AMANDA UNTIL WE TALK.
Amanda Voss was William’s estate attorney.
Claire stared at the message.
May you like
She had never told Mark she planned to call Amanda.
And there was no reason he should be frightened of one conversation with a lawyer unless he already knew what that lawyer might tell her.
