Chapter 5
I thought I had reached the limit of what one day could do to a person.
I was wrong.
I stared at Emily.
“My mother told you to leave me?”
She nodded.
“When?”
“June.”
“After the paternity test?”
“Yes.”
I laughed once.
The sound didn’t even feel human.
“Why were you talking to her?”
Emily looked down.
“She called me.”
“My mother called you?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“At first, because she wanted to know about the baby.”
“My mother had my number.”
“She said you weren’t answering her.”
I thought back.
That part was possible.
Mom had called several times during the spring.
I had been busy.
She had also spent most of my adult life turning every phone call into criticism.
Why didn’t I visit enough?
Why did Rachel get more attention?
Why didn’t Emily call her?
Why was I wasting money remodeling the kitchen?
Eventually, I stopped returning every call.
Emily continued.
“She started checking on me.”
“And you told her about Adrian?”
“Eventually.”
“Why?”
“I needed someone to talk to.”
“You had friends.”
“I couldn’t tell them.”
“You had a therapist.”
“I stopped seeing her.”
“You had me.”
She looked at me.
“That was the problem.”
I almost walked out.
Instead, I said, “Explain.”
“I couldn’t tell you I was having an affair.”
“No kidding.”
“I was scared. Ashamed. Confused.”
“So you went to my mother.”
“Yes.”
“And she told you to leave me.”
Emily hesitated.
“She said you would never forgive me.”
My jaw tightened.
“That sounds like her.”
“She said once you found out, you would take the baby and destroy me financially.”
I stared at her.
“And you believed that?”
“I was scared.”
“Did I ever threaten that?”
“No.”
“Did I ever control your money?”
“No.”
“Did I stop you from working?”
“No.”
“Did I stop you from seeing friends?”
“No.”
She looked ashamed.
“Then why did you believe her?”
Emily whispered, “Because she said she knew you better than I did.”
That hurt in a different way.
I walked into the hallway.
Rachel stood immediately.
“What happened?”
I looked at her.
“Call Mom.”
“What?”
“Call her.”
Susan was still sitting across the hall.
Her face changed.
“James, maybe tonight isn’t the time.”
I looked at her.
“Did you know my mother was involved?”
Susan said nothing.
Rachel stared at her.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
I pulled out my own phone.
Mom answered on the second ring.
“James! Is the baby here?”
I closed my eyes.
Her cheerful voice nearly made me sick.
“Yes.”
“Oh, honey, congratulations! Is Emily okay? Is my grandson healthy?”
“He’s healthy.”
“Thank God. What did you name him?”
I looked through the doorway at Emily.
“Interesting question.”
Mom went quiet.
I heard the change immediately.
“James?”
“Did you know Emily was sleeping with Adrian?”
Silence.
Rachel covered her mouth.
Susan looked away.
I waited.
Finally, Mom said, “Where are you?”
“At the hospital.”
“Can we discuss this another time?”
“No.”
“James—”
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
Rachel whispered, “Jesus.”
I gripped the phone.
“For how long?”
“Several months.”
“How many?”
“Four, maybe five.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“It wasn’t my secret.”
I almost laughed.
“I’m your son.”
“I know that.”
“Apparently not.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
Something inside me snapped.
Not into rage.
Into coldness.
“You knew my wife was cheating on me.”
“I knew she was confused.”
“She was sleeping with another man.”
“James, marriage is complicated.”
“No. Adultery is pretty simple.”
Rachel nodded beside me.
Mom sighed.
“I was trying to keep your family together.”
I stared at the wall.
“By telling her to leave me?”
Another silence.
Emily had been telling the truth.
Mom lowered her voice.
“She was considering leaving.”
“And your advice was?”
“To prepare herself.”
“With our savings?”
“I told her she needed access to money.”
“Did you tell her to hide it from me?”
“I said she should make sure she wasn’t left with nothing.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Did you tell her I would take the baby?”
“I said you might react badly.”
“Based on what?”
“I know your temper.”
Rachel suddenly grabbed the phone from my hand.
“Mom.”
“Rachel?”
“What temper?”
“Stay out of this.”
“No.”
Rachel’s face was red.
“When has James ever been violent?”
“I didn’t say violent.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“He gets angry.”
“Everyone gets angry.”
“You don’t know everything.”
Rachel looked at me.
Then back toward the phone.
“What don’t I know?”
Mom hesitated.
That pause made my stomach tighten.
“Mom.”
“Your brother has always had a difficult time controlling his emotions.”
I stared at the phone.
Rachel laughed in disbelief.
“He cried when his dog died.”
“That isn’t what I mean.”
“He punched a wall once when he was seventeen because Dad left.”
Mom went silent.
Rachel continued.
“You have repeated that story for twenty years like it proves he’s dangerous.”
“It scared me.”
“He was a teenager whose father had walked out.”
I hadn’t thought about that night in years.
Dad packed a suitcase.
Mom screamed at him.
I screamed at both of them.
Then I punched a hole in the garage wall.
Once.
At seventeen.
I paid to repair it with money from my summer job.
Apparently, that moment had become evidence.
Rachel’s voice turned hard.
“You used something he did as a kid to convince his pregnant wife he might hurt her?”
“I did not say that.”
“What did you say?”
Mom didn’t answer.
“What exact words did you use?”
Another pause.
Then Mom said quietly, “I told Emily she should be careful about how she told him.”
I took the phone back.
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you to do something you regretted.”
I felt nothing now.
No shock.
No anger.
Just exhaustion.
“You know what I regret?”
“James.”
“I regret spending thirty-five years trying to convince you I’m not Dad.”
She inhaled.
“That’s unfair.”
“No.”
For once, the word came easily.
“Dad betrayed you. He left. And ever since then, every time I disagree with you, you look at me like I’m about to become him.”
“That is not true.”
“It is.”
“James, you are upset.”
“Yes.”
“Call me tomorrow.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m done talking tonight.”
I looked through the doorway again.
Emily was watching me.
“I have a son.”
My voice cracked slightly.
“And he is not going to grow up thinking one bad day defines who he is forever.”
Mom started speaking.
I hung up.
Rachel stared at me.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
Susan stood.
“James, your mother was trying to help.”
I looked at her.
“You and my mother should start a club.”
Susan frowned.
“A club?”
“For mothers who destroy their adult children’s marriages while pretending to protect them.”
Her face reddened.
“That’s unfair.”
“I seem to be hearing that a lot today.”
I walked toward the elevator.
Rachel followed.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You want me to come?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
We drove separately.
At the house, I stood in the driveway for almost a minute before going inside.
The porch light was on.
I had left it on that morning because I expected to bring my son home the next day.
A blue balloon was tied to the mailbox.
WELCOME HOME BABY!
I stared at it.
Rachel quietly untied it.
She didn’t say anything.
Inside, the house looked exactly the way we had left it.
Two coffee cups in the sink.
Emily’s slippers near the couch.
A folded baby blanket on the armchair.
A hospital bag missing from the hallway.
I walked upstairs.
The nursery door was open.
I turned on the light.
Blue walls.
White crib.
A small wooden sign above it.
BABY CARTER.
We had deliberately avoided putting a first name because Emily claimed she wanted to decide after birth.
Now I knew why.
I sat in the rocking chair.
Rachel stood in the doorway.
“I can stay.”
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
I looked at her.
“I know.”
She came in and sat on the rug.
For a few minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then she said, “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to decide tonight.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to stay married?”
I looked at the crib.
“I don’t know.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
I had loved Emily for eleven years.
Married for seven.
Until that morning, I thought we were happy.
Not perfect.
Happy.
We argued about dishes.
Money.
Her mother visiting too often.
My habit of working late.
Normal things.
At least I thought they were normal.
“How do you not know your own marriage is ending?” I whispered.
Rachel shook her head.
“Because one person was hiding it.”
I looked at her.
“What if I missed everything?”
“You probably missed signs.”
“That’s comforting.”
“I’m not going to lie to you.”
I almost smiled.
She continued.
“But missing signs is not the same as causing them.”
I stared at the crib again.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Emily.
He keeps making this little face when he sleeps. I wish you were here.
A photo followed.
My son.
His lips were pursed.
One fist rested against his cheek.
My chest ached so badly I pressed my hand against it.
Rachel leaned closer.
“He’s beautiful.”
“Yeah.”
“He looks like you.”
I laughed quietly.
“Everyone says that about newborns.”
“No, seriously. He has your giant forehead.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I zoomed in on the picture.
Then another message arrived.
Please don’t hate me forever.
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I went downstairs.
I opened my laptop.
Rachel followed.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking at finances.”
I logged into our mortgage.
Credit cards.
Savings.
Retirement.
Everything I could think of.
For almost forty minutes, nothing looked wrong.
Then I opened the home equity account.
I stopped breathing.
Rachel saw my face.
“What?”
“There shouldn’t be a balance.”
“What balance?”
I turned the screen.
Twenty-four thousand dollars.
Borrowed six weeks earlier.
Rachel stood.
“Did you take that out?”
“No.”
“Did Emily?”
“I don’t know.”
I clicked the documents.
There was an electronically signed authorization.
My name was on it.
James Carter.
I opened the signature page.
My stomach turned.
The signature looked like mine.
Almost.
But it wasn’t.
Rachel whispered, “James…”
I looked at the date.
August twenty-eighth.
I had been in Chicago for work.
Emily had called that night.
She told me she was tired and going to bed early.
I downloaded the documents.
Then I checked the receiving account.
The money had been deposited into our joint checking account.
Two days later, twenty thousand dollars moved out.
The destination was hidden behind a bank routing number.
I searched the routing number.
Rachel leaned over my shoulder.
“What bank is that?”
I stared at the screen.
“Coleman Community Bank.”
She frowned.
“So?”
I opened another window.
Searched.
The bank had only three branches.
All in the city where Adrian lived.
My phone buzzed again.
Not Emily.
Unknown number.
I opened the message.
It contained one sentence.
If you found the home equity loan, you need to ask Emily who actually received the money.
I stared at it.
Rachel read over my shoulder.
“Who sent that?”
I typed:
Who is this?
The reply came almost immediately.
Someone Adrian lied to too.
Then another message appeared.
May you like
My name is Claire.
I’m his wife.
