Then stood there looking at it.
Her phone rang.
Ethan.
She watched it ring until it stopped.
A minute later, a message.
I’m sorry tonight got out of hand.
June read it twice.
Out of hand.
Not: I’m sorry I said the quilt belonged in storage.
Not: I’m sorry I stood silent while Claire humiliated you.
Not: I’m sorry.
June set the phone face down.
Then she went into the kitchen.
The refrigerator held soup she had made Sunday.
She heated a bowl.
Sat at the table.
A strange thought came to her.
The kitchen cabinets needed replacing.
One door had been slightly crooked for four years.
June had delayed fixing them because Ethan and Claire needed help with renovations.
Their townhouse kitchen had quartz counters.
June’s kitchen had a laminate surface Malcolm installed in 2001.
She looked at the crooked cabinet door.
Then at the envelope magnetized to the refrigerator.
Inside was an estimate.
New doors.
Paint.
Countertop.
Nothing extravagant.
June had gotten the quote six months earlier and put it away after Ethan called.
The contractor renovating their townhouse needed a deposit.
June had transferred twelve thousand dollars the next day.
The cabinet stayed crooked.
She finished her soup.
Then walked to the hallway closet.
Behind a stack of towels was a metal cash box.
Inside were tax documents, bank statements, Malcolm’s death certificate, Ethan’s old school papers, and a folder labeled ETHAN.
June opened it.
She had created the folder after loaning him money for the consultancy.
At first she kept careful records.
