Chapter 5 - Diane Brooks
Emily looked toward the porch.
The swing moved gently in the wind.
She remembered Grandma sitting there in a blue cardigan, watching the road, waiting for Emily’s car every Friday evening.
She remembered Grandma saying, “Your mother loves loudly where people can hear her. Pay attention to who she loves when there’s no audience.”
Emily had not understood then.
She did now.
“The house was bought by Harbor House,” Emily said.
Mara glanced at her, surprised she had chosen to reveal it.
Emily continued.
“It will become temporary housing for women and children who need a safe place to live.”
Claire stared at her.
Margaret’s mouth opened.
Robert looked confused.
“Harbor House? That charity Diane runs?”
“Yes.”
Margaret’s voice filled with disgust.
“You gave our family home to strangers?”
Emily turned.
“I sold it lawfully to an organization Grandma supported for fifteen years.”
“You had no right.”
“I had every right.”
“You should have given it to your sister.”
Emily looked at Claire.
Claire looked down.
For the first time, she did not agree.
Margaret saw.
Her face tightened.
“Claire, say something.”
Claire’s voice was small.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say she betrayed you.”
Claire looked at Emily.
Then the letter.
Then the moving boxes.
Then the locked door.
“She didn’t tell me the truth,” Claire whispered.
Margaret reached for her.
Claire stepped back again.
“But neither did you.”
Margaret looked wounded.
As if Claire’s doubt were the cruelest thing anyone had done all day.
Emily almost laughed.
Almost.
Then a third car arrived.
An older woman stepped out, tall, dark-skinned? Wait user specified all characters white American. Need keep all characters white? This new character if added should also be white American. Continue.
Diane Brooks was in her late sixties, white-haired, wearing a navy sweater, jeans, and a green scarf Grandma Eleanor had knitted years ago. She walked with a cane but not weakness. Her eyes went first to the house, then to Emily.
“You did it,” Diane said softly.
Emily nodded.
“I did.”
Diane’s eyes filled.
“Eleanor would be proud.”
Margaret snapped, “Do not speak for my mother.”
Diane turned.
“I knew your mother longer than you listened to her.”
The sentence landed brutally.
Robert muttered, “This is ridiculous.”
Diane looked at him.
“Robert, you asked Eleanor to mortgage this house three months before she died.”
Robert’s face changed.
Claire looked at him sharply.
“What?”
Margaret said, “Diane, stop.”
Diane did not.
“You told her Claire needed help and Emily wouldn’t mind. Eleanor told you if you wanted to help your pregnant daughter, you could sell your boat.”
Emily blinked.
She had not known that.
Robert’s mouth tightened.
“That was private.”
Diane’s eyes hardened.
“So was her will. Yet here you are on the gravel with boxes.”
Claire stared at her father.
“You asked Grandma to mortgage the house for me?”
Robert’s voice lowered.
“For your future.”
“I didn’t know.”
Margaret said, “We were trying to protect you.”
Claire’s laugh came out broken.
“By using Grandma’s house? By lying that Emily agreed? By making me stand here with boxes like I’m not stealing?”
Margaret’s face flushed.
“You are pregnant. You are allowed to need help.”
Claire pressed one hand to her stomach.
“I needed help. Not a crime scene.”
Nobody moved.
Even Mara looked faintly impressed.
Emily looked at Claire for a long moment.
The little sister who got the bigger room.
The prom dress.
The softer punishments.
The benefit of the doubt.
The baby shower already planned in a house that was never hers.
Emily had spent years believing Claire did not know.
Maybe she didn’t.
Not fully.
May you like
Maybe favorites are trained not to look too closely at what favoritism costs.
Claire walked to the first moving box and closed the flaps.
