Chapter 5 - BEFORE THE CANDLES
Ruth came over with her tablet and a thermos of coffee.
She waited until Harrison’s car left the driveway.
“I was filming while we set up,” she said.
“I left the phone against the flowerpot when you asked me to help with the drinks.”
She pressed play.
The patio filled the screen at an awkward angle.
My cake stood beneath its clear cover.
Sloan stepped into view, phone against her ear.
“Yes, Friday,” she said.
“Her son will handle it.”
A pause.
“No, she hasn’t signed anything yet.”
Ruth stopped the video.
“I almost deleted this. It was mostly chairs.”
“Keep going.”
Harrison appeared next.
Sloan ended the call.
“She wants to look at her statements next week,” he said.
“Then talk to her.”
“I said we’d replace it.”
“With what, Harrison?”
He looked toward the kitchen door.
“Keep your voice down.”
Sloan moved closer to him.
“Get her through Friday. Once she sees what the house is worth, she’ll stop obsessing over the account.”
My sister reached for my hand.
I let her take it, but I barely felt her fingers.
On the screen, Harrison said, “She’s not going to sell just because you want her to.”
“Then stop acting like a little boy and explain it.”
The video continued.
Guests arrived.
I carried napkins outside.
There I was, wearing the blue blouse David had bought me for our last anniversary, smiling as if I belonged among people who loved me.
Then the cake fell.
Watching it happen was worse the second time.
Sloan checked where I was looking.
She shifted her elbow.
She smiled.
Ruth turned the tablet off.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw how she treated you, and I kept calling it tension.”
I sat with that for a while.
Then I asked her to send me the original file.
“You need someone who understands this,” she said.
“Someone who isn't trying to keep Christmas comfortable.”
She gave me the number of an attorney her friend had used, Elaine Porter.
I called from my locked office.
Elaine listened without interrupting.
Then she asked me to bring the account records, the video, and every message about the money.
“One other thing,” she said.
“Have you signed anything for your son recently?”
I glanced at the drawer where I kept my insurance papers.
May you like
Two weeks earlier, Harrison had brought me a folder.
He had called it routine.
