Chapter 10: Friday
Julian called Thursday night.
Not through Garrett Finch.
Directly.
My phone lit up at 9 PM and I almost let it go to voicemail again.
I picked up.
"I need you to stop," he said.
His voice had none of the authority it had carried three days ago in our bedroom.
"Patricia is going to destroy everything.
The company, my reputation, everything I've built."
"Everything we built," I said.
"With my money."
"Claire—"
"You gave Renata equity in a company I financed.
You gave her access to the credit line.
You diverted Thomas's retainer payments into a separate account.
And you lied to my face for at least fourteen months." I kept my voice even.
"Which part would you like to discuss?"
A long silence.
"I made mistakes," he said.
"I know that."
"That's a very small word for what you did."
"I'm not — I'm not trying to minimize it." His voice cracked slightly.
"I just need you to know that it wasn't — she wasn't more important to me than you were.
It wasn't about that."
"Then what was it about?"
Another silence.
"I felt like I was disappearing.
Like the company was yours, the house was yours, the money was yours, and I was just—" He stopped.
"You were just what?"
"Managed," he said.
"I felt managed."
I stood at Dana's kitchen window.
The street was dark and quiet.
"Julian," I said.
"I postponed a promotion for you.
I drove your mother to her appointments.
I remembered every meeting you had and every deadline you missed.
I financed two years of your company and asked for nothing except a signed agreement." A pause.
"That's not managing someone.
That's loving them."
He didn't say anything.
"And while I was doing all of that," I said, "you were building a separate account with Thomas's money and telling me Renata had moved to Portland."
"I know." His voice was very quiet.
"I know what I did."
"Then you know why I'm not stopping."
A long pause.
"What do you want, Claire?
Tell me what you want and I'll do it."
"I want what the documents show.
Full repayment of the loans with interest.
A full accounting of where Thomas's retainer money went.
And I want the house."
"The house was always yours."
"Then sign the paperwork that says so.
Formally.
Before Friday."
Silence.
"And Renata?" he said.
"That's your problem to sort out.
Not mine."
Another silence.
Then: "If I sign everything — the loan repayment, the accounting, the house — will you ask Patricia to keep the financial details out of the public record?"
I thought about it.
"If everything is signed and accurate and there's no further attempt to complicate the proceedings, Patricia will file for an uncontested dissolution.
The financial details stay in the agreement, not in a public complaint."
"Okay," he said.
It came out like something deflating.
"Julian." I paused.
"Put Evelyn on."
A surprised silence.
Then shuffling.
Evelyn's voice came on.
Careful.
"Claire."
"The drawer," I said.
"I need you to tell Julian what you were looking for."
A long pause.
"Evelyn," Julian said somewhere in the background.
"What is she talking about?"
Another pause.
Then Evelyn said, quietly: "I was looking for something I could use.
Before you could."
"Use for what?" Julian said.
"To protect you." Her voice was thin.
"I thought if I found something — anything — that made her look dishonest, it would give Garrett something to work with."
The silence that followed was between the two of them, not me.
"Mom," Julian said.
"She wasn't dishonest.
She was the only one in this house who wasn't."
I didn't say anything.
I let that land.
"I'll have Garrett call Patricia in the morning," Julian said finally.
"We'll sign whatever needs to be signed."
"Friday," I said.
"Friday," he said.
I ended the call.
Dana was in the doorway again.
She had a habit of appearing there at the right moments.
"Well?" she said.
"He's signing Friday."
She crossed the room and put her arms around me.
I let her.
"It's over," she said.
May you like
"Almost," I said.
"Not quite yet."
