Chapter 6: The Conversation She Didn't Expect
Lauren was standing at the kitchen island when we came downstairs.
She had her phone on the counter in front of her and her arms crossed and the particular expression she wore when she had decided in advance how a conversation was going to go.
"We need to talk about next steps," she said.
She was looking at Ryan, not at me.
"All right," Ryan said.
He pulled out a stool and sat down.
He didn't invite her to sit.
He didn't look away from her.
Lauren glanced at me.
"This is probably a conversation for just the two of us."
"Margaret stays," Ryan said.
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"Ryan—"
"She stays."
Lauren unfolded her arms and picked up her phone.
She turned the screen toward Ryan.
On it was a photograph — a screenshot of what appeared to be a real estate listing.
My house.
My address.
An estimated market value.
"I've been doing some research," she said.
"If we sell this property, we could clear enough to start completely fresh.
New city, new business, real capital.
The three of us could split it fairly."
The room went very still.
"This is my mother's house," Ryan said.
"It's an asset.
A significant one.
And right now it's sitting here covering three people's living expenses with no plan and no future." Lauren set the phone down.
"I'm not suggesting anything unreasonable.
I'm suggesting we have an honest conversation about what makes sense long-term."
"You're suggesting we sell my house," I said.
Lauren turned to me with the careful patience of someone explaining something to a person they believe is being deliberately slow.
"I'm suggesting that at some point, Margaret, it might make more sense for you to downsize.
Something smaller, easier to manage.
And for Ryan and me to use our share to actually build something."
"Our share," Ryan said quietly.
"Yes."
"Of my mother's house."
"Ryan, we've been here three years.
We've contributed—"
"Name one bill you've paid."
Lauren's mouth opened.
Then closed.
"Name one," Ryan said again.
"Mortgage.
Property tax.
Electricity.
Groceries.
Phone plan.
One bill, Lauren.
In three years."
"We were getting back on our feet—"
"We were getting back on our feet for thirty-six months." Ryan's voice stayed level.
That was almost worse than if he'd raised it.
"And while we were getting back on our feet, my mother paid for everything.
And last night she finally said no to one thing.
One thing.
And you destroyed her phone."
"I told you — that was an accident—"
"I watched you do it twice."
Lauren shifted her weight.
Her hand moved toward her phone on the counter, then stopped.
"I've been under enormous stress," she said.
"I reacted badly.
I've already acknowledged that."
"You haven't acknowledged anything," Ryan said.
"You came downstairs this morning and demanded the Wi-Fi password.
You asked how much money was in her bank account.
And now you're standing here with a real estate listing."
"I'm trying to think about our future—"
"Lauren." Ryan leaned forward slightly.
"I spoke to Carla Simms this morning."
The color left Lauren's face so completely and so quickly that it looked like something physical had happened to her.
"You—" She stopped.
"She told me about Noah."
Lauren's hand found the edge of the counter.
"I know you found those emails six months ago," Ryan said.
"I know you've known since then.
And I know you came to my mother two days ago with a business plan, and when she said no, you destroyed her phone, and this morning you told her you knew what was in Daniel's letter." He paused.
"You were going to use it.
You were going to tell her about Carla and Noah as a reason she should give you money.
Or as a reason she should be grateful you were keeping quiet."
"That is not—" Lauren's voice had gone thin.
"That is not what I was doing."
"Then what were you doing?"
She didn't answer.
"Lauren." Ryan's voice dropped.
"I need you to tell me the truth right now.
Were you going to use my son as leverage against my mother?"
The word *son* landed in the room like something dropped from a height.
Lauren looked at me.
Then at Ryan.
Then at her phone on the counter.
"I want to speak to a lawyer," she said.
Ryan sat back on the stool.
May you like
"All right," he said.
"That tells me what I needed to know."
