Chapter 3: What She Said Next
Lauren's mother set her purse down on the floor beside her chair.
She folded her hands on the table.
She didn't look at me.
She looked at Lauren.
"I want to ask you something," she said.
"And I want you to think carefully before you answer."
Lauren's jaw tightened.
"Mom, this really isn't the time—"
"When I was sick last winter," her mother said, "I asked you to help me with my medical bills.
Do you remember what you told me?"
The table went quiet.
Lauren said nothing.
"You told me you didn't have the money." Her mother's voice didn't rise.
It stayed exactly level.
"You said things were tight.
You said you and Daniel were struggling."
My mom was sitting across from me.
She had both hands around her glass of water and she wasn't moving.
"That was the same month you borrowed $5,000 from this woman," Lauren's mother said.
She nodded toward my mom.
"This woman who had nothing to spare.
Who saved that money for her own emergencies.
And you took it."
"I was going to pay it back," Lauren said.
"When?"
"When things settled down."
"Lauren." Her mother leaned forward slightly.
"Your SUV has been repaired for four months.
I saw it in your driveway at Christmas.
Brand new tires.
The whole side panel replaced."
Lauren's eyes moved to me.
"You told her," she said.
"I told her what you did," I said.
"The same way you told her you borrowed from a friend.
Except I told the truth."
Lauren pushed back from the table slightly.
Not standing.
Just creating distance.
"I don't understand why this is such a big deal," she said.
"It's five thousand dollars.
Daniel makes good money.
We were going to—"
"Then pay it back," her mother said.
"Right now.
Tonight."
"I don't have a checkbook with me."
"I do."
Lauren stared at her.
Her mother opened the envelope she had placed on the table and slid out a personal check.
She had already made it out.
She slid it across to my mom.
My mom looked down at it.
Her hands were still wrapped around the glass.
"That's my money," Lauren said.
Her voice shifted.
Something harder came into it.
"You can't just—"
"It's a gift," her mother said.
"To a woman who deserved better than what my daughter gave her."
Lauren stood up.
"This is humiliating," she said.
"Sit down," her mother said.
Lauren didn't sit down.
"I'm not going to sit here and be lectured in front of—"
"Sit.
Down." Her mother said it the same way both times.
No louder.
No softer.
Lauren sat down.
My mom finally looked up from the check.
She looked at Lauren's mother and said, very quietly:
"You didn't have to do this."
"I know I didn't," she said.
"But my daughter did.
And since she won't, I will."
Lauren was staring at the tablecloth.
Her face had moved past pale into something else.
Something that looked like a person realizing, for the first time, that the people around her had been paying attention all along.
I refilled my mom's glass.
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Then Lauren said, quietly, almost to herself:
"Daniel doesn't know I came here tonight."
Her mother looked at her.
"No," Lauren said.
"I mean — he doesn't know about any of this.
The money.
What I said to her on the phone.
He doesn't know."
I set the pitcher down.
"What exactly does Daniel know?" I asked.
May you like
Lauren looked up.
And for the first time since she'd walked through my door, she looked genuinely afraid.
