Chapter 6: Somewhere Neutral
She chose a coffee shop twenty minutes from her house.
A place neither of us had been to together before.
Neutral ground, like she'd said.
I got there first.
I ordered, found a table near the window, and waited.
Lauren walked in eight minutes late.
She was dressed carefully — not overdressed, but carefully.
Hair done.
Jacket on despite the mild weather.
The kind of put-together that takes effort when you haven't slept.
She ordered at the counter without looking at me.
When she sat down across from me, she wrapped both hands around her cup and looked out the window for a moment before she spoke.
"Daniel knows," she said.
"I know," I said.
"He called me this morning."
Something moved across her face.
Not surprise.
More like the confirmation of something she had already assumed.
"His mother called him last night," Lauren said.
"After she left your house."
"I know that too."
Lauren looked at me directly for the first time.
"Did you plan that?" she asked.
"Did you ask her to call him?"
"No," I said.
"That was her decision."
Lauren nodded slowly.
She didn't look like she disbelieved me.
She looked like someone working through a sequence of events, checking each piece against what she already knew.
"He wants to go to counseling," she said.
I didn't respond to that.
"He's not — he's not leaving," she said.
"He's angry.
He's really angry.
But he's not leaving." She paused.
"He paid your mom back this morning.
The full five thousand.
He transferred it before he even talked to me."
I looked at her.
"She texted me," Lauren said.
"Your mom.
She said she didn't want to accept it but Daniel told her it wasn't optional."
That sounded like Daniel.
"Lauren," I said.
"Why did you come here?"
She looked down at her cup.
"Because I owe you an apology," she said.
I waited.
"What I said on the phone," she said.
"About your mom.
The socks comment." She pressed her lips together.
"That was cruel.
I knew it was cruel when I said it.
I said it anyway because I was annoyed and I didn't think there would be consequences." She looked up.
"I was wrong."
"Yes," I said.
"You were."
"I'm not a bad person," she said.
Then she stopped herself.
Shook her head slightly.
"Actually, I don't get to say that right now.
That's what bad people say when they get caught."
It surprised me.
I hadn't expected that.
"I have a problem with money," she said.
"I've had it for a long time.
I know that.
I've known it for a while.
I just — I kept thinking I'd fix it before anyone noticed." She exhaled.
"Daniel and I talked for three hours last night.
He said some things that were hard to hear.
I said some things that were hard to say." She paused.
"He asked me why I never came to him.
Why I went to other people instead."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him I was ashamed," she said.
"Which is true.
But it's also — I think I knew he'd make me face it.
And I didn't want to face it." She looked out the window again.
"Your mom never would have pushed back.
I knew that.
I used that."
The honesty of it landed differently than I expected.
I had come to this coffee shop prepared for a different kind of conversation.
Defensive Lauren.
Angry Lauren.
Lauren who wanted to negotiate.
This Lauren was harder to be angry at.
But I stayed where I was.
"My mom put towels on the floor for weeks," I said.
"She didn't call me because she didn't want to make trouble.
She was going without a working refrigerator because she was too kind to demand what she was owed."
Lauren's eyes dropped.
"I know," she said.
"She's seventy years old," I said.
"She saved that money over years.
It wasn't extra money.
It was her only safety net."
"I know," Lauren said again.
Quieter.
"An apology to me isn't enough," I said.
"You know that."
"I'm going to her house this afternoon," Lauren said.
"After this." She looked at me.
"I'm not asking you to come.
I'm not asking you to be there.
I just — I wanted you to know."
I looked at her for a long moment.
"She'll let you in," I said.
"She always does.
That's who she is."
Lauren nodded.
Her jaw tightened slightly, like she was holding something back.
"I don't deserve that," she said.
"No," I said.
"You don't."
We sat with that for a moment.
Then Lauren said:
"Daniel wants to talk to you too.
Not today.
But soon." She paused.
"He said he needs to apologize for not seeing it sooner."
"He doesn't need to apologize to me."
"He thinks he does." She wrapped her hands tighter around her cup.
"He's that kind of person."
I knew.
Daniel had always been that kind of person.
I looked out the window.
A woman walked past pushing a stroller, moving quickly, head down against the wind.
"Lauren," I said.
"The other money.
Carol.
Petra.
The rest of it."
She nodded.
"We're going to pay it back," she said.
"All of it.
Daniel made a list last night.
We're going to contact everyone." She paused.
"It's going to be humiliating."
"Yes," I said.
"It is."
She didn't argue with that.
We finished our coffee.
We didn't hug when we left.
But she held the door open for me on the way out, and I said thank you, and she nodded, and we walked to our separate cars.
I sat in mine for a moment before starting the engine.
My phone buzzed.
A text from my mom.
*Lauren just called.
She's coming over this afternoon.
Is that okay?
Should I say yes?*
I typed back: *Say yes, Mom.*
Three dots appeared.
Then:
*Okay.
I made extra cookies.*
I laughed.
May you like
I couldn't help it.
Of course she had.
