Chapter 6: Breakfast for One
He found me at the same café at eight the next morning.
I had arrived early, taken the corner table, ordered coffee, and opened my laptop.
By the time Carson walked through the door, I had been there forty minutes.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
He pulled out the chair across from me without asking and sat down heavily.
"You didn't come back."
"No."
"Brenda, this has gone far enough."
"I agree." I closed the laptop.
"Sit down properly.
I want to talk to you."
He was already sitting, but something in my tone made him straighten.
"I spoke to Nora yesterday," I said.
His jaw tightened.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
"Nora doesn't know anything about our marriage."
"She knows about Dana."
Silence.
The waitress came.
Carson ordered nothing.
I asked for eggs and toast.
When she left, I said: "Six months, Carson.
The emails go back to February.
Garrett asked if I had savings.
You told him how much I'd been putting away.
He suggested the plan and you went along with it.
You lied to me about the hotel.
You handed me a chore list on arrival.
And then you pointed at my bag and asked for my money to buy a fishing rod that was already in the plan before we left Columbus."
"You don't understand the full picture."
"Then explain it to me."
He leaned forward.
His voice dropped.
"Garrett is going through a hard time financially.
The house rental was expensive.
He needed help covering costs and he didn't want to ask directly because—"
"So you volunteered my labor and my savings without telling me."
"I was trying to help my brother."
"By lying to your wife."
"By not making a big deal out of a family favor."
I looked at him.
"Carson.
Garrett threatened to contact my employer.
He told Nora he would say I'd been using company time for personal projects.
That is not a family favor.
That is a threat against my career."
Carson's face went very still.
"He wouldn't actually do that."
"He said it.
Nora has it documented.
Time-stamped."
"Nora is—" He stopped himself.
"Nora is what?"
He pressed his lips together.
"She's always had a problem with Garrett.
She twists things."
"She sent me the email thread.
All eleven exchanges.
Your words, Carson.
Not hers."
The waitress brought my eggs.
She set them down cheerfully and disappeared.
Carson stared at the table.
"What do you want from me?" he said finally.
His voice had changed.
The defensiveness had thinned out and underneath it was something that might have been genuine — or might have been a new strategy.
I had spent enough years with him to know I couldn't always tell the difference.
"I want the truth about the joint account with Garrett."
His head came up.
"That's old.
That was years ago."
"Is it closed?"
A beat too long.
"Yes."
"When was it closed?"
"I don't remember exactly.
After our mother's estate was settled."
"Nora kept copies of the estate paperwork.
She's looking through it tonight."
Something moved behind his eyes.
Not fear exactly.
More like the moment a person realizes the room they thought they were alone in has other people in it.
"Brenda.
I made a mistake.
I should have been honest with you about the plan.
I know that.
But Garrett is my brother and I—"
"Did you know about the threat to my job?"
He was quiet for three full seconds.
"No," he said.
"I didn't know he was going to say that."
"But you're not surprised he did."
He didn't answer.
That was its own kind of answer.
I ate my eggs.
Carson sat across from me and said nothing for a long time.
Outside, the street was filling up with morning people — joggers, dog walkers, a woman pushing a stroller with a coffee cup balanced on the handlebar.
"I need you to come back to the house," Carson said finally.
"We can talk there.
Properly."
"No."
"Brenda—"
"I'm staying here until the end of the week.
Then I'm going home to Columbus." I picked up my coffee.
"You can do whatever you want with the rest of your vacation."
He stood up.
His chair scraped back.
"So that's it?
You're just done?"
I looked up at him.
"I haven't decided yet what I'm done with.
But I'm done with this conversation." I nodded toward the door.
"I'll be in touch."
He stood there for a moment — waiting, I think, for me to soften.
For the version of me he had always counted on to appear and smooth things over.
She didn't show up.
He left.
I poured more coffee and opened my laptop.
There was a new email from Nora.
The subject line read: *Found it.*
The attachment was a scanned bank statement.
Joint account.
May you like
Carson and Garrett, both listed as account holders.
The most recent transaction date was eleven days ago.
