Chapter 2 - My Mother Had Written About an Account I Had Never Heard Of
Dad unfolded the paper at the kitchen table.
Vanessa tried to follow us inside.
He stopped her.
“Not yet.”
“This concerns me.”
“That’s exactly why you’re not reading over my shoulder.”
I had never heard him speak to her that way.
Vanessa remained in the doorway while Dad and I sat across from each other. The paper was only one page long.
Claire’s handwriting filled both sides.
Dad read silently at first. Halfway down the page, he put his hand over his mouth.
“What?”
He turned the paper toward me.
The first line was addressed to him.
David, if Emma ever asks what I left for her, do not let anyone tell her the answer is nothing.
I read it twice.
Vanessa had used that exact word for years.
Nothing.
My mother left you nothing.
Your father paid for everything.
Claire’s medical bills ate whatever she had.
Stop romanticizing someone who gave you memories instead of money.
I kept reading.
The proceeds from Dad’s lake house are in Emma’s custodial investment account at Hawthorne Financial. The account ending in 4417 belongs to her. You are custodian until the transfer age. You promised me you understood that.
I looked up.
“Dad?”
He had gone pale.
“What account?”
He did not answer quickly enough.
“What account?”
“Emma…”
“No. Tell me.”
He closed his eyes.
“Your mother inherited a small lake property from your grandfather.”
“I know. She sold it during treatment.”
“Yes.”
“I thought the money paid medical bills.”
“Some did.”
“How much went into this account?”
Dad stared at the paper.
“About three hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”
I stopped breathing.
Vanessa stepped into the kitchen.
“That was before five years of expenses, Emma. Don’t start imagining some fortune.”
Dad stood.
“I told you to stay out.”
She ignored him.
“Claire was obsessed with keeping money separate when the family needed it.”
I looked at Dad.
“When was I supposed to get the account?”
He answered quietly.
“Twenty-one.”
I was twenty-two.
My stomach turned.
“My birthday was fourteen months ago.”
“I know.”
That answer was worse than ignorance.
“You knew I was supposed to get it?”
“I knew the account existed.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Vanessa interrupted.
“Because there was almost nothing left.”
Dad turned toward her.
“Stop.”
I looked back at Claire’s note.
Near the bottom she had written:
If you ever feel tempted to borrow from it, call Margaret Lane at Hawthorne before you touch a dollar. Emma should never have to pay for our emergencies simply because she is young enough not to know.
Then one final line had been underlined.
Vanessa knows about this account. She asked me twice whether the beneficiary could be changed. I told her no.
I looked slowly toward my stepmother.
She stared at the floor.
“Why were you asking my mother about my money before she died?”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“She misunderstood a conversation.”
“What conversation?”
She did not answer.
Dad did.
“Vanessa was helping with our bookkeeping during Claire’s treatment.”
There it was.
Vanessa had not entered our family after my mother died.
She had already been inside our finances before Claire was gone.
Then Dad read the date at the top of the letter.
It had been written nine days before my mother’s death.
The same week Dad had always told me Claire was too weak to handle paperwork.
May you like
Apparently she had been handling the one thing she thought I might someday need protected from the people still living in our house.
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