“Do you believe you should have said something?”
Another silence.
“Yes.”
“Then start there. Not with the condo. Not with her boss. Not with me. Start with the truth.”
He exhaled shakily.
“She wants a Zoom meeting this weekend. She says we can find a compromise.”
“I will participate,” I said. “But only if we speak honestly.”
Saturday morning, I set my laptop on the kitchen table. I chose that spot on purpose. Behind me were my oak cabinets, the little herb pots on the windowsill, and the framed photograph of Martin and me at Ethan’s college graduation. I wore a pale blue sweater and pearl earrings. Not the ones from Malibu. A simpler pair. My everyday pair.
The Zoom window opened at 10:02.
Ethan and Vanessa sat side by side on their couch in their one-bedroom apartment. I had never noticed before how much of that room looked staged. The designer lamp. The abstract art. The pale couch no one could comfortably live on. The glass coffee table with three expensive books stacked perfectly but never opened.
Vanessa smiled.
It was not the Malibu smile. This one had been assembled carefully for persuasion.
“Hi, Carol,” she said. “Thank you for taking the time to talk.”
“Good morning, Vanessa.”
“Ethan and I have been discussing everything, and I want to start by saying I’m sorry if my joke hurt you.”
I let the sentence sit.
If.
Joke.
Hurt.
Three little doors built into one apology so she could escape through any of them.
“Thank you,” I said. “But it was not a misunderstanding. You meant what you said. You believed I was good enough to finance the room, but not good enough to stand in it.”
Her smile stiffened.
“That’s not fair.”
“It is honest.”
Ethan looked down at his hands.
Vanessa adjusted her posture, moving into the tone of a real estate presentation.
“Regardless of feelings, we need to discuss practical solutions. Ethan’s career is stalled, my reputation at the firm has been damaged, and we believe a formal loan structure could work for everyone. We would repay the forty thousand over five years, with interest. We just need you to co-sign a different lease in Brentwood.”
I looked at Ethan.
“Is that what you want?”
He swallowed.
“It would help us get out of this hole.”
“No,” I said.
Vanessa blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
“I will not co-sign a lease. I will not provide a personal loan. I will not finance another address.”
Her face flushed.