Chapter 25
“You two look as though you’ve reached the part of the conversation where nobody is pretending to be certain,” she said.
Corinne smiled faintly.
“We’re trying.”
June set down the tray.
“That is more durable than certainty.”
I stayed for two hours.
I held Owen while Corinne prepared his bottle. I changed his diaper under her patient instruction. When he began to fuss, I nearly panicked, but Corinne showed me how to settle him against my shoulder.
The small task felt more important than any contract I had signed.
When I left, she walked me to the porch.
“Grant.”
I turned.
“The letter you wrote. I read it.”
My heart tightened.
“What did you think?”
“It wasn’t perfect.”
“I assumed it wouldn’t be.”
“But it was the first thing you’ve given me that didn’t ask for something in return.”
I looked at her.
“Will you keep it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see whether you live by it.”
I accepted that.
She did not kiss me goodbye.
She did not promise she would.
But she placed her hand briefly against my arm before stepping back inside.
It was enough.
The investigation lasted four months.
Eleanor Voss confirmed that my mother’s family had contributed substantially to the original holdings. My father had improperly diverted some funds, though not all the transactions were fraudulent. He had also created the later trust as an attempt to preserve the properties for me and, eventually, for my family.
The final report recommended that the assets be divided.
Certain properties were returned to a charitable foundation my mother had established but never managed to fund. Others were placed in a trust for Owen, with Corinne and an independent trustee overseeing it.
The Belle Meade house was sold.
Neither Corinne nor I wanted it.
The proceeds were divided according to the revised agreement, and a portion was used to settle outstanding claims connected to my mother’s family.
The house sold in early spring.
On the day I signed the papers, I stood in the empty living room and looked at the place where Owen’s bassinet had once rested.
The rooms no longer seemed grand.
They seemed grateful to be released from the job of pretending.
I moved into a smaller home near a park. It had three bedrooms, though one remained empty for the time being. I painted the nursery a soft green because Corinne had once said the color made her feel calm.