Chapter 7: The Morning Gertrude Came
Three days passed.
Diana filed the emergency protective order on the house.
It was granted within twenty-four hours.
The lender — a private financing company operating out of Nevada — was formally notified of the forged signatures and the pending fraud investigation.
They froze all three loan accounts immediately.
Solverton Residential LLC was flagged by the Riverside County business registry as part of the investigation.
The business license application was suspended.
I moved back into the house with Skylar.
Brandon was staying at a friend's place in Fontana.
Gertrude and Hailey had gone back to Gertrude's apartment in Colton.
The house was quiet in a way it hadn't been in over a year.
On the fourth morning, I was in the kitchen making breakfast when I heard a knock at the front door.
Skylar was still upstairs.
I checked the window before I opened it.
Gertrude.
She was alone.
She was dressed carefully — pressed blouse, good shoes — and she was holding her purse with both hands in front of her, the way people hold things when they want to look composed.
I opened the door but did not step back to let her in.
"Charlotte." Her voice was measured.
"I'd like to talk."
"My attorney has advised me not to speak with you without her present."
"I'm not here about the legal situation.
I'm here as Brandon's mother."
"Those are the same thing right now, Gertrude."
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"I made mistakes.
I can see that.
But I want you to understand that everything I did was for this family.
For Brandon.
For Skylar's future."
"Skylar was eating instant soup in a dark kitchen while you were drinking imported wine," I said.
"Don't use her name to explain what you did."
Something moved across Gertrude's face.
Not guilt exactly.
Something closer to recalculation.
"If you push this forward," she said, "Brandon goes to prison.
Your daughter's father goes to prison.
Is that what you want for her?"
There it was.
The thing she had come to say.
"Gertrude, you forged my signature on $290,000 worth of loan documents.
You used my identity to fund a development company registered in your name.
You planned for me to carry the debt while you held the asset." I kept my voice even.
"You didn't make a mistake.
You built a plan.
And you included my husband in it."
"He's still her father."
"And I'm still her mother.
Which is exactly why I'm not stopping."
Gertrude's hands tightened on her purse.
"You think you're protecting her.
You're destroying her family."
"You destroyed it," I said.
"The night you told an eleven-year-old girl that she wasn't allowed to eat dinner with her own family."
Gertrude opened her mouth.
Closed it.
"I'd like you to leave now," I said.
"If you come back, I'll call Officer Reyes directly."
I closed the door.
My hands were not shaking.
I stood in the hallway for a moment and listened to the sound of Gertrude's heels on the porch steps, then the click of the gate, then nothing.
"Mom?"
Skylar was at the top of the stairs in her pajamas, her hair still flat from sleep.
"Was that Grandma?"
"Yes."
"What did she want?"
I looked up at her.
Eleven years old.
Clear eyes.
Waiting.
"She wanted to ask me something," I said.
"I told her no."
Skylar came down three steps.
"Are we going to be okay?"
I walked to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her.
"Yes," I said.
"We are absolutely going to be okay."
She came down the rest of the stairs and put her arms around me.
I held her there in the hallway for a long moment.
Then she pulled back and said, "Can we have actual breakfast?
Like eggs?"
"We can have whatever you want."
"Eggs and toast and orange juice."
"Done."
She went ahead of me into the kitchen.
I followed her, and when I turned on the stove, I noticed that the small stool she had been sitting on that night was gone.
I had moved it to the garage two days ago without thinking much about it.
May you like
I hadn't thought about it again until now.
I cracked the eggs into the pan and didn't think about it at all.
