Chapter 7: Dennis
I called Nathan's father the next morning.
Lucas was at school.
Carol had stayed the night and was in the kitchen when I made the call.
I didn't put it on speaker, but I sat at the kitchen table so she could see my face.
Dennis picked up on the second ring.
"I wondered when you'd call," he said.
That was the first thing he said.
Not hello.
Not how are you.
*I wondered when you'd call.*
"How long have you known?" I asked.
A pause.
"Known what, specifically?"
"About Nathan's plan.
The solicitor.
The claim on the house.
Vanessa.
The story he'd been telling Lucas about my trip."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"Nathan is my son," Dennis said.
"I'm not going to apologize for supporting him."
"I'm not asking for an apology.
I'm asking how long you've known."
"Long enough."
I looked at Carol.
She was watching me steadily.
"He told Lucas to come to you," I said.
"When things changed.
He told a six-year-old boy to go to his grandfather for explanations.
Which means you were prepared to give them." I paused.
"What were you going to tell him?"
"That families change," Dennis said.
"That it doesn't mean anyone stops loving him."
"Were you going to tell him that his mother had been pushed out of her own home?"
"That's not—"
"The house is in my name, Dennis.
My mother left it to me.
Nathan has been building a legal case against me for eighteen months while living under my roof.
Did you know that?"
Silence.
"Did you know that?"
"I knew he'd spoken to a solicitor."
"And you said nothing to me."
"He's my son."
"And Lucas is my son." My voice stayed level.
"I need you to understand something.
Whatever happens between Nathan and me, Lucas is not a message you pass back and forth.
He is not a preparation you make.
He is a child.
And if you told him things — or were prepared to tell him things — that were designed to make my absence feel normal, that is something I will not forgive easily."
Dennis was quiet for a long moment.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed slightly.
Something had gone out of it.
"He told me you'd been unhappy for years.
That you'd both agreed the marriage was over.
That it was just a matter of timing and paperwork."
"That's not true."
"I know that now."
"Did you know it then?"
He didn't answer.
"Dennis." I waited.
"Did any part of you know that wasn't the full truth?"
A long pause.
"I thought there were two sides," he said finally.
"I chose his because he's my son.
I'm not proud of all of it."
It wasn't an apology.
But it was more than I'd expected.
"I need you to stay out of this," I said.
"Don't speak to Lucas about the marriage, the house, or Vanessa.
If he calls you, talk to him about normal things.
Football.
His drawings.
Whatever you two talk about.
But not this."
"All right."
"And Dennis — if Nathan asks you to do anything involving Lucas, documents, or this house, I need you to tell me."
A pause.
"You're asking me to report on my own son."
"I'm asking you to protect your grandson."
The line was quiet for a moment.
"All right," he said again.
Quieter this time.
I ended the call and set the phone on the table.
Carol poured two cups of coffee and sat down across from me.
"Well?" she said.
"He knew.
Not everything.
But enough." I wrapped both hands around the mug.
"Nathan told him the same story he told everyone.
That it was mutual.
That I'd agreed."
"He built a whole narrative."
"Yes." I looked at the table.
"He needed people to believe I was leaving voluntarily.
That way, when I was gone, no one would ask too many questions."
Carol set her mug down.
"Gone how, though?
He couldn't actually make you disappear."
"No.
But he could make me look unstable.
Difficult.
Like someone who'd walked away from her family." I paused.
"If I'd come home to divorce papers and a legal claim on the house and a son who'd been told for weeks that Mommy was going away — how long before people started believing his version?"
Carol looked at me for a long moment.
"You need a very good solicitor," she said.
"I know."
"Today."
"I know, Carol."
She nodded.
Then she reached into her bag and slid a business card across the table.
May you like
"I called her this morning while you were asleep," she said.
"She can see you at two."
