Chapter 6: What She Still Thought She Could Take
Kimberly sat back down.
Slowly, like she was choosing to, like it was still her decision.
"I want to know about the house," I said.
A flicker.
She covered it quickly.
"What about it?"
"The loan.
The one you've been threatening to call in." I looked at her.
"Brandon told me."
"That's a private financial matter between Brandon and—"
"Between Brandon and his wife," I said.
"Which is me."
She turned to Brandon.
"I don't think this is the time or place—"
"She's asked you a question," Brandon said.
Kimberly smoothed the fabric of her skirt.
When she looked up again, she had found something close to composure.
"The loan was always intended to be a family arrangement.
If the family situation changes, it's reasonable to revisit the terms."
"The family situation," I repeated.
"Yes."
"You mean Noah."
"I mean everything." She folded her hands.
"Brandon's future.
What kind of life you're both going to be able to build.
These are things a mother thinks about."
"A mother," Diane said quietly.
Kimberly ignored her.
"I have never been anything but supportive of this family.
Everything I've done has been out of love for my son."
"Then you won't mind putting that in writing," I said.
She blinked.
"Our lawyer is preparing a document.
It will formalize the loan terms.
Fixed rate, fixed repayment schedule, no conditions attached to our family structure, our children, or any medical decisions we make." I kept my eyes on her.
"If you sign it, the loan stays as it is.
If you don't, we'll refinance and you'll have no claim on the house at all."
"You can't—"
"Grace ran the numbers yesterday," Brandon said.
"We can."
Kimberly looked between us.
Something was shifting behind her eyes, a recalculation, a search for the angle she hadn't tried yet.
"And the email?" she said.
"What are you planning to do with it?"
"That depends on you," I said.
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"Meaning if you sign the document, and you stay away from decisions about Noah's care, his schooling, his doctors, and how we raise him, we won't pursue it further." I paused.
"But if you come back into this room with conditions, or if you call Brandon with ultimatums, or if you say one more word to anyone about leaving him — the email goes to the medical board that licensed the consultant.
And to a journalist Diane knows who covers exactly this kind of story."
Diane said nothing.
She didn't need to.
Kimberly's chin came up.
"You're threatening me."
"I'm telling you what happens next," I said.
"You decide which version you want."
The silence stretched.
Noah stirred, made a small sound, settled again.
Kimberly looked at him.
Something crossed her face that I couldn't fully read — not softness exactly, but something that had once been close to it, before she'd decided it was a weakness.
"I want to speak to Brandon alone," she said.
"No," Brandon said.
She looked at him.
"Whatever you say to me, you say in front of Olivia." He didn't move from where he was standing.
"That's how it works now."
Kimberly was quiet for a long time.
The flowers she'd brought sat on the windowsill behind her.
The bakery bag was still on the table, unopened.
"I'll need to speak to my own lawyer," she said finally.
"Of course," I said.
"Grace will send the document this afternoon."
Kimberly stood.
She picked up her bag.
She looked at Noah one more time, and I watched her face, because I wanted to know if there was anything left in her that understood what she had done.
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then she walked to the door.
"Kimberly," Brandon said.
She stopped but didn't turn around.
"Don't call me from the hallway," he said.
"Don't call me tonight.
Call Grace."
She left without answering.
The door closed behind her.
Diane let out a slow breath.
Brandon put the folder back on the table.
I looked down at Noah, who was asleep with his mouth slightly open, one fist under his chin, entirely unaware of what had just been decided on his behalf.
"She'll fight it," Diane said.
"I know," I said.
May you like
"Her lawyer will find something."
"Let them look."
