Chapter 6: Diane
She answered on the third ring.
"Hello?"
Young voice.
Slightly cautious.
The voice of someone who had learned to be careful with unknown numbers.
"Diane," I said.
"My name is Nora.
I'm Grant's wife."
Silence.
Then a breath.
"He told you," she said.
"Not exactly," I said.
"I found out.
There's a difference."
Another silence.
I let it sit.
"I'm not trying to cause problems," Diane said carefully.
"I want you to know that.
I didn't — when I first contacted him, I didn't even know if he'd respond.
I just wanted to know who he was.
That was all it was supposed to be."
"Supposed to be," I said.
"Things got complicated."
"Tell me how."
She hesitated.
I heard her move — a chair, a door closing softly, the small sounds of someone finding privacy.
"He was kind," she said finally.
"When he first called me back, he was so — I wasn't expecting that.
My mother had told me almost nothing about him.
I thought he might be angry, or deny it, or just disappear again.
But he called me back within two days and he was kind." A pause.
"That made it harder."
"Harder to do what?"
"To stay at a distance." Her voice was careful but not cold.
"He wanted to be involved.
He wanted to make up for lost time.
I understand that.
I even wanted it.
But he kept asking me to wait.
Wait to meet his family.
Wait until he'd sorted things out.
And the waiting just kept going."
"Did he tell you why he needed more time?"
"He said it was complicated.
That his wife — that you — that the timing wasn't right." A beat.
"He never said you were sick.
I want you to know that.
Whatever he told other people, he never told me that."
I absorbed that.
Filed it.
"Diane," I said.
"I need to ask you something directly, and I need you to answer me the same way."
"Okay."
"The money he sent you.
One hundred and ten thousand dollars over eighteen months.
Did you ask for it?"
The pause before she answered was long enough that I knew the answer was complicated.
"The first time, yes," she said.
"My mother had medical bills.
I was behind on everything.
I mentioned it to him — I wasn't asking, I was just explaining my situation — and he offered.
He insisted, actually." Her voice tightened slightly.
"The second time I told him I didn't want more money.
That it felt wrong.
He sent it anyway.
Said it was his responsibility.
Said he owed me years of support he'd never paid." She stopped.
"I deposited the second one.
I shouldn't have.
The third and fourth — I told him no both times."
"But they arrived anyway."
"Yes."
I stood at the kitchen window.
The street outside was ordinary.
A neighbor walking a dog.
A car pulling out of a driveway.
"He sent money you told him not to send," I said slowly.
"To an account in your name."
"Yes."
"Diane.
Do you have documentation of those refusals?
Messages where you told him not to send it?"
A pause.
"Yes.
We texted.
I have all of it."
Something shifted in my chest.
Not relief exactly.
More like a door opening onto a room I hadn't known was there.
"I'm going to ask you something else," I said.
"And you don't have to answer."
"Ask."
"Did he ever suggest a reason why he was sending money you'd refused?
Did he ever say anything about what he was planning?
Financially.
Legally."
The silence this time was different.
Longer.
The kind that means someone is deciding how much to say.
"Three months ago," Diane said slowly, "he told me he was updating his will.
He said he wanted to make sure I was included.
He said—" She stopped.
"What did he say?"
"He said he wanted to make sure I was protected.
In case anything changed." A breath.
"I didn't know what that meant.
I thought he meant in case he got sick.
Or in case you found out and things got difficult." She paused.
"Is that — is that not what he meant?"
I looked at the grocery receipt on the counter.
Her number in my own handwriting.
"I don't know yet," I said.
"But I think I need to speak to someone before I know for certain." I picked up the receipt.
"Diane.
Would you be willing to meet me?
Not with Grant.
Just the two of us."
A long pause.
"Yes," she said.
"I think I would."
"Good." I folded the receipt and put it in my pocket.
"Because I think someone has been managing both of us very carefully.
And I think it's time we compared notes."
May you like
I ended the call and stood still for a moment.
Then I picked up my phone and called my attorney.
