Chapter 5: What Pete Had Been Carrying
He didn't answer right away.
He picked up my coffee mug, realized it was mine, and put it back down.
His hands needed something to do and there was nothing to hold.
"Mom, I don't want to be in the middle of this."
"You're already in the middle of it.
You have been since March, I think."
He looked up.
"How did you—"
"Because you looked at the table when I mentioned the account.
You already knew it existed."
Pete pressed his mouth together.
He was quiet for a long moment.
"Dad told me it was for a business investment," he said finally.
"He said he didn't want to worry you until he knew if it was going to work out."
"What kind of investment?"
"He said a colleague had a side project.
Something in property.
He said it was going to be a good return and he'd tell you once it paid off."
I sat very still.
"The colleague."
Pete's jaw tightened.
"He didn't say who."
"Pete."
"Mom, I genuinely don't know her name.
He just said a colleague."
"Did it occur to you," I said slowly, "that your father was moving money out of our joint account every month into a private account, and that you knew about it, and that today is the day after my birthday, which none of you remembered?"
Pete's face changed.
The defensive posture dropped.
What was underneath it was something younger and less certain.
"Mom, I'm sorry about your birthday.
I genuinely forgot.
I know that doesn't—"
"I'm not talking about the birthday right now.
I'm talking about the account."
"I thought it was a real investment."
"Did you think it was appropriate for him to hide it from me?"
He didn't answer.
"Pete.
Did you think that was okay?"
"No," he said quietly.
"I didn't.
But he's my dad and I didn't know what to do with it."
I stood up and took my mug to the counter.
I stood there for a moment with my back to him, the same way Brad had stood an hour ago, and I thought about how a family can have the same arguments in the same kitchen across two generations without anyone noticing the pattern.
"I need you to tell me everything he said to you," I said.
"Every detail.
From the beginning."
Pete told me.
It took twenty minutes.
The investment story.
The colleague.
The reason Brad wanted to keep it separate.
The fact that Brad had asked Pete not to mention it to Mike or Justin because he didn't want it becoming a whole family conversation before he had results to show.
When Pete finished, I asked one question.
"Did he ever show you any paperwork?
Anything about the investment?"
"No.
He said it was early stage."
I nodded.
I picked up my phone and sent a text to my oldest friend, Carol, who had been a paralegal for fourteen years and who had been telling me for the last two years that I needed to get my name on more documents.
*Can I call you this morning?
It's important.*
Her reply came back in three minutes.
*I'm free now.
Call me.*
I looked at Pete.
"I need to make a call.
Alone."
He stood up immediately.
At the door to the hallway he stopped.
"Mom.
For what it's worth — I think what you did last night was brave."
I looked at him.
"The food truck," he said.
"I shouldn't have said what I said about it.
I was being an idiot."
I didn't say it was fine, because it wasn't.
But I nodded, and he left, and I called Carol.
She picked up on the first ring.
"Talk to me," she said.
So I did.
All of it.
The birthday.
The screenshot.
The name.
The account.
The transfers.
The anonymous text.
Pete's confirmation.
When I finished, Carol was quiet for exactly four seconds.
"Sophie," she said.
"I need you to listen to me very carefully.
Do not touch that savings account.
Do not move anything.
Do not confront Brad again until you have spoken to a family law attorney."
"Carol—"
"I'm not saying it's over.
I'm saying you need to protect yourself before you say another word to him.
Can you do that?"
My hand was tight around the phone.
"Yes," I said.
"Good.
I'm going to text you a name.
She's the best in the county.
Tell her I sent you."
I hung up.
The text came through thirty seconds later.
May you like
I was still reading the attorney's name when the front door opened.
Brad was back.
