Chapter 9: What He Said to Her
Jake looked at his hands.
"I needed money," he said.
"I got into some debt.
About three years ago.
I thought I could manage it, but it kept growing and I—" He stopped.
"I didn't know what else to do."
"You could have asked me," Mom said.
"I was embarrassed."
"Jake." Her voice was gentle but it didn't move.
"I would have given you whatever I could.
You know that."
"I know." He rubbed his face.
"I told myself it was temporary.
That I'd pay it back before you ever noticed.
I set up the company thinking I'd use it for a few months, cover what I owed, and then close it and replace the money once things settled down."
"But they didn't settle down."
"No."
"And the amount kept growing."
He nodded.
"Sixty-one thousand dollars, Jake."
He flinched.
He hadn't known the full number.
I watched it land on him.
"I didn't realize it had gotten that high," he said.
His voice was quieter now.
"I stopped keeping track because I couldn't stand to look at it."
"While I was in a hospital bed," Mom said.
"While I was frightened and sick and trusting you with everything."
Jake's jaw tightened.
His eyes went red at the edges.
"I know."
"Look at me."
He looked up.
"I'm not going to pretend this didn't happen," she said.
"I'm not going to tell you it's fine.
It isn't fine.
What you did was wrong, and it was a betrayal, and I need you to understand that clearly."
"I do."
"But you are still my son." Her voice caught for just a moment.
"And I need to know — is there anything else?
Any other account, any other arrangement I don't know about?"
"No.
Just that one."
"You're certain."
"Yes."
She looked at him for a long time.
He didn't look away.
"Carol Briggs is handling this," I said from the doorway.
"She's already reviewed the documents."
Jake looked at me.
"Are you pressing charges?"
"That's not my decision alone."
Everyone looked at Mom.
She was quiet for a long moment.
She looked at Jake, then at me, then at the window.
"I want the money repaid," she said.
"I don't care how long it takes.
I want a legal agreement, documented and signed, with a repayment schedule.
I want the fake company dissolved.
And I want the power of attorney transferred back to your father."
Jake nodded.
"Okay."
"If you miss a single payment," she said, "or if I find out there's anything else you've hidden, I will let Ryan and Carol decide what happens next.
Do you understand me?"
"Yes," Jake said.
"I understand."
She nodded once.
Then she said, "I love you.
I am furious with you.
And those two things are both true at the same time."
Jake's face crumpled.
He pressed his hand over his eyes.
His shoulders shook once, and then he pulled himself back together with visible effort.
"I'm sorry, Mom," he said.
"I'm genuinely sorry."
She reached out and put her hand briefly on his arm.
Not a hug.
Not forgiveness, not yet.
Just a hand on an arm, which was all she had to give in that moment.
"Go call Carol Briggs," she said.
"Today."
Jake stood up.
He walked to the door.
He stopped when he reached me.
He didn't say anything for a moment.
Then: "You could have gone straight to the police."
"Yes," I said.
He looked at me — really looked at me, maybe for the first time since I'd walked back through that front door.
"Why didn't you?"
I thought about it.
"Because she asked me not to."
He nodded slowly.
Then he walked past me down the hall.
I went back to the chair by Mom's bed and sat down.
She was looking at the window again.
The gray morning had made up its mind — a light rain had started, tapping softly against the glass.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
"No," she said.
"But I will be."
She reached over and took my hand.
"I'm glad you came home," she said.
May you like
I didn't say anything.
I just held her hand and let the rain fill the silence.
