Chapter 4: The Second Envelope
I told myself it didn't matter.
We said our vows.
Brandon's voice didn't waver once.
When the pastor said the words that made it official, Lisa let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob, and Brandon pulled her into the hug before he even kissed me.
The photographs happened.
The rice was thrown.
People cried in the good way.
But I kept thinking about that second envelope.
Carrie noticed.
She always notices.
"You're somewhere else," she said, finding me near the cake table during the reception.
"Talk."
"Did you see Barbara leave with something under her arm?"
Carrie's expression shifted.
"I saw her leave.
I didn't see what she was carrying."
"She had a second envelope.
I don't know what's in it."
"Does Brandon know?"
"Not yet."
Carrie looked across the room to where Brandon was dancing with Lisa, spinning her in slow circles while she giggled.
She looked back at me.
"Tell him tonight.
Don't let it sit."
I nodded.
But the afternoon stretched on, and the evening came, and every time I started to say something, there was a toast, or a song, or Lisa falling asleep against Brandon's shoulder, and I didn't want to be the one to bring Barbara back into the room.
We got home close to midnight.
Lisa was carried in asleep.
The house was quiet.
Brandon was loosening his tie in the kitchen when I finally said it.
"She had a second envelope."
He stopped.
"Barbara.
When she left the ceremony.
She had something under her arm.
Another envelope, or a folder — I couldn't see clearly.
But she came prepared with more than one."
Brandon set his tie on the counter.
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he picked up his phone and dialed.
It rang four times.
Then: "Brandon." Barbara's voice was careful.
Unsurprised.
"What was in the second envelope?"
A pause.
"I think that's a conversation for another time."
"I think it's a conversation for right now."
"You just got married.
Enjoy your evening."
"Mom."
Another pause.
Longer.
"It's nothing that needs to be dealt with tonight," she said.
"But there are things about Daniel Mercer that go beyond where he's living now.
Things I found out that you should know.
That she should know." A beat.
"When she's ready to hear them."
Brandon looked at me across the kitchen.
"What kind of things?"
"The kind that explain why he left," Barbara said.
"And why he's never tried to come back."
The line went quiet.
"I'll come by tomorrow," Brandon said.
"I'll be here."
He hung up.
We stood in the kitchen for a moment without speaking.
The house made its small nighttime sounds around us.
"She's not done," I said.
"No," Brandon said.
"She's not."
He came around the counter and put his arms around me.
I let him.
But over his shoulder, I was looking at the dark window, and thinking about a man in Portland I hadn't thought about in years.
And wondering what Barbara knew about him that she thought would change everything.
The next morning, I found out she wasn't the only one who knew.
There was a voicemail on my phone.
Left at 2:14 a.m.
May you like
The number was one I didn't recognize.
But the voice said my name like it had said it a thousand times before.
