Chapter 9: The Mother Who Knew
Her name was Renata.
Eric's mother.
We had never been close — she was the kind of woman who made you feel like a guest in rooms you lived in — but we had been polite.
Birthday calls.
Holiday dinners.
The performance of a functional family.
I had not spoken to her since before Eric left for Cabo.
Patricia advised me not to contact her directly.
Instead, she sent a formal letter to Renata's address, copied to Eric's attorney, advising that the account registered under Sandra Voss had been identified and was subject to the existing asset freeze pending further court review.
Renata called me the same afternoon the letter arrived.
I answered.
"I want you to know," she said, without any greeting, "that I had nothing to do with this."
"Your maiden name is on the account, Renata."
"Eric asked me if he could use it.
For a business matter.
He said it was a formality.
I didn't ask questions." A pause.
"I should have."
"Yes," I said.
"You should have."
Silence on the line.
"How much did you know?" I said.
"Not about the account.
About all of it.
The plan."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"I knew he was unhappy," she said finally.
"I didn't know the rest."
"Did you know about Cara?"
The pause that followed was a fraction too long.
"Renata."
"He mentioned he had met someone," she said.
"He didn't give me details.
I told him he needed to handle his marriage properly.
That's all I said."
"He mentioned he had met someone while I was pregnant with his children."
"I know how that sounds."
"Do you?"
She didn't answer that.
"I'm not your enemy," she said finally.
"I know that's hard to believe right now.
But those babies are my grandchildren.
I don't want to be shut out of their lives because of what Eric did."
I looked across the kitchen.
My mother was at the table, pretending to read something, listening to every word.
"That's not my decision to make right now," I said.
"Talk to Eric's attorney.
They can work with mine on a grandparent contact arrangement once the divorce is finalized."
"Olivia—"
"I have to go," I said.
"The babies need feeding."
I ended the call.
My mother set down her reading.
"She knew," my mother said.
"Some of it."
"Enough of it."
I sat down across from her.
One of the babies had started to fuss in the next room.
Neither of us moved for a moment.
"Eric's attorney called Patricia this morning," I said.
"Before the Renata call.
He wants to negotiate a settlement.
He's proposing Eric signs over full physical custody, drops any claim to the house, and repays the full amount from all three accounts."
My mother's eyebrows rose slightly.
"In exchange for what?"
"That I don't pursue the DA referral."
I watched her process that.
"Patricia says the DA referral is already out of our hands," I said.
"She filed the documentation.
Whether it goes forward isn't up to me anymore."
"Does Eric know that?"
"His attorney does now."
My mother was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "What do you want, sweetheart?
Not what Patricia says.
Not what the court says.
What do you want?"
I thought about it honestly.
"I want to stop," I said.
"I want it to be done.
I want to take the babies somewhere quiet and not think about bank accounts and fake invoices and women named Cara and accounts under maiden names." I stopped.
"But I also want him to not be able to do this to someone else."
My mother reached across the table and covered my hand with hers.
"Then let the DA do their job," she said.
"And you do yours."
The baby in the next room was crying in earnest now.
I got up.
Eric's attorney called Patricia back two hours later with a revised offer.
He had added one more condition.
He wanted a letter from me.
Not legal.
Personal.
Stating that Eric had been a willing and present father in the early days of the children's lives.
Patricia read it to me over the phone.
I didn't say anything for a long moment.
"He wants me to lie," I said.
May you like
"In writing," Patricia said.
"Yes."
