Chapter 15 - THE STAR
I called Matthew before I could talk myself out of it.
“Did you give Jessica a bank code yesterday?”
There was a long pause.
“Yes,” he said.
“After I told you my account was being checked?”
“She said it was a code to confirm the repayment. I didn’t ask to see the screen.”
“You knew she was using my account.”
“I knew she still had the old login. I thought the new password would stop anything else.” His voice broke. “I should have called you.”
“Yes,” I said. “You should have.”
He went to the bank with Helen that afternoon and gave a statement. I gave mine too. We did not try to settle the facts between ourselves over Christmas dinner. The bank would review the records, and Matthew’s promise to repay the first transfer would be put in writing.
In January, Helen helped me revise my estate plan. I chose people I trusted to handle decisions if I ever became unable to make them myself. I also changed how any inheritance for Matthew would be managed. I told him what I had done. He was hurt, but he didn’t ask me to undo it.
Jessica sent one letter. She apologized for taking my things down, entering my account, and trying to move more money. I read it twice. I didn’t answer right away.
Matthew found a small apartment across town. He and Jessica lived apart while they decided what to do about their marriage. He found steady work in February and made the first payment he owed me.
On Sundays, he began coming over again. Sometimes we ate lunch. Sometimes he helped with a loose step or brought groceries and stayed for coffee. At first, every visit felt careful. Slowly, we found things to say that weren’t about the house or the money.
One afternoon in March, I took George’s work jacket out to the deck. Matthew was repairing a board that had come loose over the winter.
“Your father would have told you to use a longer screw,” I said.
Matthew looked up. “He would’ve told me after I finished.”
“And made you do it again.”
We both laughed.
I still missed George every day. I wished he could have seen us talking there. I wished I could tell him I had finally kept my promise.
By the following Christmas, the red-and-green lights were back on my porch. Louise came early with another pie. Matthew arrived carrying a small box.
Inside was a wooden stand he had made for George’s star, in case I wanted to set it on the mantel instead of risking the top of the tree.
I turned the star over. The repaired point held firm.
“Help me put it up?” I asked.
Matthew steadied the ladder while I climbed two steps and set the star where it had always belonged. It leaned a little to the left.
“Still crooked,” he said.
May you like
“Your father would approve.”
Then I came down, switched on the tree lights, and opened my front door to welcome my family in.
