I sat down.
“That sounds ominous.”
“Just promise me.”
“All right.”
She took a breath.
“I’ve been talking to Travis.”
I looked toward the folder on the table.
“I thought you might.”
“He told me about the money.”
“I expected that.”
“He said you moved it without warning.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“That’s his version.”
“I figured.”
There was a pause.
Then Nora said, “Mom, the boutique isn’t doing well.”
I looked at the statement in front of me.
“I know there have been problems.”
“No. I don’t think you understand how long it’s been happening.”
She explained what Travis had told her.
The boutique had struggled to cover its expenses for quite some time.
Sales were inconsistent.
The physical store cost more to maintain than Holly had expected.
Rent, utilities, inventory, and the ongoing expenses of keeping the business open had consumed much of the revenue.
Whenever money became tight, Travis and Holly had relied on funds moving through the joint savings account.
Sometimes they replenished what they’d used when sales came in.
Other times they found money elsewhere to restore the balance.
The reserve had become part of a continuing effort to keep the boutique operating.
It wasn’t merely waiting for a genuine emergency.
It was helping them manage ordinary months that weren’t profitable.
I listened without interrupting.
Nora continued.
“Travis said he didn’t want you to know how bad it was getting.”
“Why?”
“He was embarrassed. And he knew you’d worry.”
I looked down at my hands.
“He told me three months ago that the business was doing well.”
“I know.”
“He said they’d finally found their footing.”
“I know, Mom.”
I could hear the frustration in her voice.
Then she softened.
“I’m sorry.”
I leaned back.
“You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I know, but I hate that you’ve been worrying about them without knowing what was really happening.”
I was quiet for a moment.
Then I asked, “Does Holly know he told you?”
“I don’t think so.”
I nodded, though she couldn’t see me.
Nora continued.
“Mom, I need you to understand something. You can love Travis and still refuse to be responsible for the boutique.”
I looked toward the window.
Outside, the maple leaves were beginning to turn yellow.
“I know that in my head.”
“Do you?”
I smiled faintly.
“You’re not going to let me get away with a vague answer, are you?”
“Nope.”
I laughed.
Then I told her about the birthday.
The photograph.
The caption celebrating Glenda.
The three calls about the account.
The voicemail that never mentioned the occasion.
Nora listened.
When I finished, she was quiet for several seconds.
“Mom,” she said finally, “that must have hurt.”
Something about the simplicity of her response brought tears to my eyes.
She didn’t explain Travis’s behavior.
She didn’t tell me he was busy or distracted.
She didn’t suggest that I should have reminded him.
She simply acknowledged what had happened.
“Yes,” I said. “It did.”
“I wish you’d told me.”
“I didn’t want to make you feel caught in the middle.”
“You’re allowed to tell me when something hurts you.”
I wiped my eyes.
“I know.”
“No, Mom. You say that, but then you spend six months pretending everything’s fine.”
She wasn’t wrong.
I looked at Robert’s photograph on the hallway table.
He used to tell me I could turn any family problem into something I needed to manage.
I had always thought he was exaggerating.
Now I wondered how often he’d been trying to help me see something I didn’t want to admit.
Nora asked whether I was okay.
I thought about it carefully.
“I think I am,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yes. I don’t feel good about any of this. But I think I feel better than I did before.”
She let out a breath.
“Good.”
We talked for another half hour.
She told me about a new apartment she’d been considering in Nashville and the ridiculous price of parking near her office.
I told her Linda wanted to take me out for birthday coffee.
Before hanging up, Nora said, “Mom, please promise me you’ll do something nice for yourself this week.”
I glanced toward the living room.
“Like what?”
“Something you actually want to do.”
I smiled.
“That’s a surprisingly difficult question.”
“Then maybe you should spend some time thinking about it.”
After we hung up, I stood in the kitchen and considered her words.
Something I actually wanted.
I could tell you what Travis needed.
I could tell you what Holly was worried about.
I could tell you which flowers Linda liked and how Hank took his coffee.
I knew Robert’s favorite meal, even though he hadn’t been there to eat it in six years.
But when I tried to think of something I wanted without considering anyone else’s needs, my mind went strangely blank.
I was still thinking about that when the next unexpected visitor arrived.
Three days later, Glenda came to my door.
Holly’s mother had always carried herself with an effortless certainty I sometimes envied.
She was a woman who knew how to enter a room, greet everyone by name, and make her preferences known without apologizing for them.
Her hair was freshly styled.
She wore a soft blue cardigan beneath her coat.
When I opened the door, she looked at me with the composed expression of someone who had rehearsed a difficult conversation on the drive over.
“Moren.”
“Hello, Glenda.”
“May I come in?”
I studied her for a moment.
Then I stepped aside.
“Of course.”
The new lock turned easily as I closed the door behind her.
I led her into the kitchen and offered coffee.
She accepted.
While the machine brewed, she looked around the room.
“I haven’t been here in a while.”
“No.”
“Everything looks the same.”
I smiled faintly.
“Some things do.”
She sat at the kitchen table.
I placed a mug in front of her and took the chair opposite.
For a moment, we discussed the weather.
Then she folded her hands.
“Moren, what you’re doing is causing Travis and Holly a great deal of difficulty.”
I looked at her.
“What am I doing?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’d rather hear you say it.”
She sighed.
“You withdrew the savings they were depending on.”
“I moved the money I’d contributed into my personal account.”
“Without warning.”
“Yes.”
She looked surprised that I didn’t immediately defend myself.
“They’ve been counting on that money.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then surely you understand why they’re upset.”
I stirred my coffee.
“I understand that they’re upset.”
Glenda leaned forward.
“Holly has worked very hard on that business. She has put everything she has into it.”
“I know she’s worked hard.”
“Then why would you pull away just when they need support?”
I looked up.
“Do you know what day my birthday is?”
The question seemed to catch her off guard.
She blinked.
“Your birthday?”
“Yes.”
She frowned slightly.
I could see her trying to remember.
Then she looked down.
“No, Moren. I’m sorry. I don’t.”
I nodded.
“I didn’t expect you to.”
She looked uncomfortable.
I continued.
“On my sixty-third birthday, I woke up alone, made coffee, and waited for my son to call. Instead, I saw a photograph of him on a cruise ship with you and Holly.”
Glenda’s expression changed.