Chapter 8: What Diane Knew
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I called Nicole.
"She texted me," I said.
"Who?"
"Diane."
Silence.
"What did she say?"
"That there are things about Andrew I still don't know."
Nicole was quiet for a moment.
"Are you going to meet her?"
"I don't know."
"Mom." Her voice was careful.
"It could be nothing.
She could just be trying to cause more damage."
"I know."
"But it could also be something real."
"I know that too."
I heard her exhale slowly.
"What does your gut say?"
I thought about the eleven charges.
The trips I hadn't known about.
The hotel in the city Andrew had never mentioned.
"My gut says there's more."
"Then meet her," Nicole said.
"But take someone with you."
I called Carol next.
She told me the same thing Nicole had.
Meet her if I wanted to.
Take someone.
Don't agree to anything.
Just listen.
I texted Diane back.
*Tomorrow.
Noon.
The coffee place on Mercer Street.
I'll be there.*
Her reply was immediate.
*Thank you.
I'll be there.*
I barely slept.
In the morning I called my sister, Pam.
I told her everything in fifteen minutes while she was silent on the other end.
When I finished she said, "Tell me where and when," and I did.
Diane was already there when Pam and I arrived.
She was sitting at a corner table with both hands around a cup.
She was younger than I had expected.
Mid-thirties.
She looked tired.
She stood when she saw me.
"Thank you for coming."
I sat down across from her.
Pam sat beside me.
"Talk," I said.
Diane looked at Pam briefly, then back at me.
"I'm not here to make things worse.
I want you to know that."
"You commented on my family photo."
"I know.
I'm not proud of that." She wrapped her hands tighter around the cup.
"I did it because I was angry.
He had just told me it was over and I—" She stopped.
"That doesn't make it right."
"No.
It doesn't." I folded my hands on the table.
"What did you want to tell me?"
She took a breath.
"Andrew didn't just spend money on hotels.
He told me he was putting money aside.
For us.
For when he left."
Pam went still beside me.
"He told you he was leaving me," I said.
"For over a year.
He said he was waiting for the right time.
That he didn't want to hurt Nicole.
That he needed to sort out the finances first." She looked at the table.
"I believed him.
For a long time I believed him."
"And the money he was setting aside?"
"He mentioned an account.
A separate one.
He said it was his, not joint.
He said he'd been building it for two years."
I thought of Carol.
Of the joint account.
Of the eleven charges.
"Did he ever show you this account?"
"No."
"Did he give you a name for it?
A bank?"
"No."
I looked at her directly.
"Why are you telling me this?"
She met my eyes.
"Because he lied to both of us.
And you deserve to know what he was planning." She paused.
"And because I'm not going to be the reason a family falls apart for a man who was never going to do what he promised."
Pam put her hand on my arm.
I did not look away from Diane.
"Is there anything else?"
"There's one more thing." She reached into her bag and put a folded piece of paper on the table.
"He sent me this in February.
I printed it.
I thought you should have it."
I unfolded it.
It was an email.
From Andrew's personal account.
To Diane.
The subject line was: *Timeline.*
I read the first three lines and felt the floor drop again.
He had written out a plan.
Month by month.
When he would move money.
When he would tell me.
When he would file.
February of next year.
He had given himself a date.
I folded the paper carefully and put it in my bag.
"Thank you," I said.
Diane nodded.
She looked like she might say something else.
Then she didn't.
Pam and I walked out into the cold air.
We stood on the pavement outside the coffee shop.
"Carol," Pam said.
"I know."
"Today, Rachel."
"I know." I had my bag against my side, the folded email inside it.
"He had a plan, Pam.
The whole time.
He had a plan."
May you like
She took my hand.
"So do you now," she said.
