Chapter 5: The Name He Couldn't Explain Away
The yellow flowers went into the vase.
Nathan did it slowly, one stem at a time, like the task required his full concentration.
"Where did you hear that name?" he asked.
"A newspaper article.
You and your mother.
A fundraiser.
Eleven years ago." I kept my voice level.
"The caption listed him as your brother."
Nathan turned on the tap and filled the vase.
He set it on the counter.
He dried his hands on the dish towel hanging from the oven handle.
"He's not someone I talk about."
"I can see that."
"It's complicated, Diane."
"Is he the one who's been calling you?"
Nathan looked at me then.
Really looked, the way he did when he was deciding how much to say.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.
I stayed standing.
"Daniel and I didn't grow up together," he said.
"My mother had him before she met my father.
He was raised by his father's family.
I didn't even know he existed until I was in my twenties." He paused.
"We've tried.
A few times.
It's never gone well."
"What does that mean?"
"It means he has a pattern of showing up when he needs something and disappearing when things get difficult."
"What does he need now?"
Nathan was quiet.
"Nathan.
What does he need now?"
"Money." He said it flatly.
"He's in debt.
He's been calling for three weeks asking me to help him cover it."
I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
"How much?"
"Enough that I didn't want to tell you about it until I'd decided what to do."
"That's why you've been hiding the calls."
"I wasn't hiding them.
I was managing them."
"You told me your brother called at the track.
You said you were an only child on our third date."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"I know."
"Which part was true?"
"Both.
I said it because I don't think of him as a brother.
I never have." He opened his eyes.
"I should have told you he existed.
I know that.
I just — every time Daniel comes back into my life, things get harder.
I didn't want that near you and Sophie."
I sat with that for a moment.
"How much does he want?"
"Eighteen thousand dollars."
The number landed in the room like something dropped from a height.
"And you were going to decide this alone."
"I was going to say no.
I've said no twice already.
He keeps calling."
"Nathan." I leaned forward.
"If you were going to say no, why couldn't you just tell me?"
He didn't answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was quieter.
"Because I was ashamed," he said.
"Of him.
Of the fact that I have a brother I've never been able to trust.
Of the fact that he keeps finding me no matter how many times I think I've closed that door." He looked at his hands.
"I didn't want you to look at me differently."
The kitchen was very still.
Outside, a car passed.
The vase of yellow flowers sat between us on the counter.
"I'm not looking at you differently," I said finally.
He looked up.
"But I need you to not manage things away from me.
We're married.
That means the hard things too."
He nodded.
Once.
Slowly.
"I know."
"Is there anything else I don't know?"
He held my gaze.
"No," he said.
"That's all of it."
I believed him.
Mostly.
But that night, after he fell asleep, I lay awake thinking about the word mostly, and what it meant that I couldn't quite let it go.
Three days later, Daniel Marsh called again.
May you like
This time, Nathan answered it in front of me — and put it on speaker without me asking.
What Daniel said next made me reach for Nathan's hand without thinking.
