Chapter 6
“Would you talk with me alone?” Daniel asked.
The doors swung shut behind him, muffling the music. The evening air cooled my cheek, though it still hurt when I touched it.
“About what?”
“About what I did. About what happened.”
I looked at the entrance, then back at him.
“If you’re going to tell me you were stressed, or that Tiffany was stressed, I don’t want to hear it.”
“I won’t.”
He stood with his hands at his sides, looking as if he’d practiced an apology and was trying to remember the words. I had spent enough years smoothing things over for him to recognize the pause before he asked me to do it again.
“Tell me what you think you did,” I said.
He swallowed.
“I asked you to apologize to Tiffany after she slapped you. I told you that you were embarrassing us. And before that, I asked you to pay for the champagne after you’d already said no.”
“Yes.”
“I made it your job to keep the reception peaceful.”
“You did.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Why did you do it?”
His eyes dropped to the pavement.
“I wanted everything to look perfect. I didn’t want a scene. I thought if I could get you to give in, it would all go away.”
“And if I didn’t?”
“I didn’t think about that.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’ve relied on you to fix things for so long that I didn’t stop to ask what it was costing you.”
It was the first answer that didn’t ask me to make him feel better. I let the silence sit between us.
“I don’t know who sent that form,” he said. “I didn’t know it existed. But I know I saw that earlier card alert, and I didn’t ask you about it. I took Tiffany’s explanation because it was easier than looking into it.”
“That was a separate charge,” I said. “And we still don’t know who requested it.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t tell me you know what happened until the records tell us.”
“I won’t.”
I studied his face. He looked tired, but tiredness wasn’t a confession or an excuse. It was simply what I could see.
“I canceled the Scotland trip,” I said.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“Your father and I talked about that trip for years. He kept a notebook of the places he wanted to see. Edinburgh, the Highlands, the village near the coast where his grandfather was born. I meant to go after Thomas died. Then there was another wedding expense, and I canceled it.”
Daniel said nothing.
“Three months ago, I sold six acres of his family’s land. It had belonged to his family for four generations.”
His mouth opened, then closed.
“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel guilty enough to pay me back,” I said. “I’m telling you because I need you to understand that my generosity wasn’t limitless. I kept saying yes because I love you. That didn’t mean you could stop asking whether I could afford it—or whether I wanted to.”
“I didn’t know about the trip.”
“You didn’t ask.”
He flinched, but he didn’t argue.
“You’re right.”
The words didn’t mend anything. They didn’t return the land or put Thomas’s notebook in my suitcase. But at least Daniel wasn’t asking me to pretend my sacrifices had been small.
“I can’t promise you that I’ll forgive this tonight,” I said. “And I’m not deciding what happens with the money until we know what was actually charged and who authorized it.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I think I’m starting to.”
I took a breath and reached for my car keys.
“I have to go home.”
He nodded.
“I won’t ask you to stay.”
That was the first time all evening he had let me leave without trying to turn my decision into a problem he needed me to solve.
The next morning, I sat at my kitchen table with Claire’s copies and the card issuer’s reference number beside my phone. Thomas’s leather notebook lay on the counter. I hadn’t opened it in months.
When a representative answered, I gave her the reference number and explained that I wanted to make sure my dispute was documented.
She confirmed that the notice had been logged. The pending transaction was still under review; she couldn’t tell me whether it would settle or what the final decision would be.
“What do you need from me?” I asked.
“Please send any supporting records you have, such as itemized invoices and documentation showing which services you recognize or don’t recognize.”
I looked down at the copied authorization and the matching invoice entry. Together, they showed that a number had been used. They didn’t tell me who had submitted the form, what the transaction covered, or whether every service listed had been billed.
“I have copies of the form and the venue’s notes. I’m still waiting for the itemized vendor records.”
“Send what you have now, and add the rest when it arrives. We’ll attach it to the review.”
I followed her instructions and saved the confirmation. Then I put the papers in a folder, not back in my handbag. I wanted them where I could find them without feeling as though I had to carry the wedding everywhere I went.
Daniel called that afternoon.
“I wanted to check in,” he said. “I’m not asking you to make a decision about anything. I just wanted to know if the bank call went all right.”
I told him what the representative had said.
“Does that mean they’ll stop the charge?”
“They said it’s still under review. They haven’t promised an outcome.”
“All right.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I’m going to ask Claire for the vendor records,” he said. “Not because I expect you to let me handle it. I want to make sure I’m not leaving you to chase everyone.”
“Ask her to send copies to both of us. Don’t tell anyone what the documents prove before we have them.”
“I won’t.”
There was a faint buzz on his end.
He paused.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Tiffany texted me.”
I waited.
May you like
His voice lowered as he read it.
“‘If you’re going to keep running to your mother, don’t come back tonight. You need to choose between your wife and her.’”
