Priscilla turned to Sylvia. “You’re going to let him throw away our marriage over a credit card?”
Sylvia looked at her son, then at the statements. “That is between the two of you. This is between you and me.”
The boundary sounded plain. It felt like a door closing.
Priscilla pushed back her chair. “I need to make a call.”
“You can call your attorney,” Sylvia said. “You can call the bank. You can call anyone you like. But you will not use my card or come back here to charge anything.”
“I have things upstairs.”
“You may collect them with Dean present.”
Priscilla stared at Sylvia, waiting for her to soften the sentence. She did not.
Dean walked with her to the stairs. Sylvia stayed in the kitchen, hands flat on the table. She heard a drawer open upstairs, then another. A door shut. A moment later, Dean came back alone.
“She says the rest is in her laptop,” he said.
“Then we’ll get it.”
“Mom, I’m sorry.”
Sylvia’s throat tightened. “I believe you.”
“I should have checked the statements.”
“You trusted me to help. You trusted her when she said she had my permission. I should have checked, too.”
He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have had to.”
“No,” Sylvia said. “I shouldn’t.”
They stood with the papers between them. Neither tried to turn that into comfort.
Then Dean looked at the suitcase by the hall. “Are you still leaving?”
“I need a few days away.”
“Where are you going?”
“My sister’s. I told her I might come.”
“I can drive you.”
“I can manage.”
He nodded. His eyes looked tired and young at the same time. “I’ll call you tonight.”
“If you want to.”
“I do.”
The suitcase felt heavier than Sylvia remembered. She carried it to the front door, one careful step at a time. Dean reached for the handle. This time, she let him take it.
CHAPTER 4 – The Truth Arrives
Sylvia stayed with her sister for three nights.
