For a while, neither spoke.
Then Eleanor placed the copy of the authorization between them.
“Tell me why.”
David rubbed his palms against his knees.
“Jessica said you were going to cut me out of your life. She said you had told Mark he would inherit everything. She said you were angry because I had failed.”
“You had not failed.”
“I felt like I had. I was behind on the business. She kept saying we would lose everything. When she showed me the paperwork, I thought it was a temporary arrangement.”
“You did not ask me.”
“I was ashamed.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“No.”
“Why did you let her tell people I was confused?”
He looked at the carpet.
“Because if you were confused, then I did not have to admit I was afraid.”
Eleanor absorbed that.
His answer was not enough to repair anything, but it was honest.
“You wanted me to be the problem.”
“Yes.”
The word hurt, but it also ended something.
Eleanor leaned back.
“Your father once told me that love without accountability becomes permission. I thought he was being dramatic.”
David looked toward the framed photograph on the shelf.
“He was usually dramatic.”
“He was usually right.”
A reluctant smile moved across David’s face and disappeared.
Eleanor folded the authorization.
“You will attend counseling. Alone. Not with Jessica. You will make a repayment plan with Martin. You will never ask for access to my accounts again.”
“I agree.”
“You will not use my name to collect money.”
“I won’t.”
“And you will tell the family exactly what happened.”
David nodded.
“I will.”
Only then did Eleanor remove the photograph of him as a child from the desk drawer. She placed it on the table between them.
“You may take this.”
He stared at it.
“Why?”
“Because it belongs to the boy in the picture. I still love him.”
David touched the frame with one finger.
“And the man?”
