Chapter 2
I later learned it was Great-Aunt Loretta.
At that moment, I didn’t care.
Grandma squeezed my fingers.
“They told me you were too busy. They said you had your own life and I shouldn’t make you feel guilty.”
Mom whispered, “We were trying to keep things calm.”
Grandma turned.
“You kept things calm by lying?”
“Marin—”
“For six years?”
Dad finally lost patience.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Nobody stole Esther’s grandmother.”
Grandma’s head snapped toward him.
“No?”
Dad looked around the room as if hoping someone might still be on his side.
“This has gotten completely out of control. We were helping Bridget. That’s all. Esther sends two hundred dollars a month because she can afford it. Bridget couldn’t.”
“That money was for Grandma,” I said.
“And it went to the family.”
“No. It went to Bridget.”
His jaw tightened.
“Same difference.”
There it was again.
Family money.
The phrase that could turn theft into generosity as long as the person taking it used the word family first.
Ellis spoke quietly beside me.
“Vaughn, you should stop talking.”
Dad laughed once.
“You threatening me?”
“No.”
Ellis looked toward the far side of the room.
“I’m telling you that you keep admitting things.”
That was when Ivy Kesler raised her hand slightly.
Not dramatically.
Like someone waiting to speak during a meeting.
“I think Mrs. Stark should sit down.”
Grandma nodded.
Trish brought a chair.
But instead of returning to table twelve, Grandma sat directly beside the gift table.
Beside the walnut box.
Then she looked at my father.
“Now I want my bank statements.”
Dad stared at her.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Ma, don’t be ridiculous.”
“I have been ridiculous for six years. I think I’m finished.”
A murmur moved through the room.
Dad’s face darkened.
“The statements are at home.”
“Whose home?”
“Mine.”
“Why?”
“Because I handle your finances.”
Grandma tilted her head.
“I remember signing something after I broke my hip.”
“A power of attorney.”
“I remember.”
Dad seemed relieved.
Then Grandma asked, “Did it say the money became yours?”
Nobody made a sound.
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
“This is insane.”
Great-Aunt Loretta stepped away from table six.
“No, Vaughn. Insane was calling me three weeks ago to tell me your daughter wanted her wedding checks written to you.”
“I never said she wanted it.”
Loretta stared at him.
“That somehow makes it better?”
A man near the bar spoke next.