Chapter 7: What Robert Already Knew
Robert asked me to come to the house.
Not a phone conversation, he said.
He'd put the kettle on.
He lived forty minutes north of us in the house where Andrew and Daniel had grown up — a wide, quiet property with a long driveway and a garden that his wife had planted before she passed and that Robert had maintained, imperfectly but faithfully, ever since.
He met me at the door before I'd finished knocking.
He was a tall man, thinner than he'd been a few years ago, with Andrew's same steady eyes and a way of moving through a room that suggested he had never been in a hurry and didn't intend to start.
"Come in," he said.
"Tea's ready."
We sat at the kitchen table — a different kitchen, a different table, but the same kind of Sunday-morning quiet.
He poured without asking how I took it.
He remembered.
"Tell me what happened," he said.
I told him.
All of it.
The phone call from Kayla, the two suitcases, the towel, the filing cabinet, Daniel's text, the porch, the email I'd found that morning.
I told it plainly and in order and I didn't soften any of it.
Robert listened without interrupting.
He held his mug in both hands and looked at the table and listened.
When I finished, he was quiet for a moment.
"The money he borrowed," he said.
"It was thirty-eight thousand dollars."
I didn't say anything.
"He said it was for a business opportunity.
A property deal that needed fast capital.
He said he'd repay it within six months." Robert set his mug down.
"That was fourteen months ago."
"Has he said anything about it since?"
"He says it's coming.
Different reasons each time." He paused.
"I stopped believing the reasons about four months ago."
"Do you think he was trying to access our accounts to repay you?"
Robert looked at me directly.
"I think Daniel has been in financial trouble for longer than any of us knew.
I think he's been looking for a solution that doesn't require him to admit the size of the problem." He stopped.
"And I think he made a very serious mistake in who he decided to involve."
"He involved my sister."
"Yes." His voice was quiet and certain.
"That I will not excuse."
I wrapped my hands around my mug.
"What do you want to do?"
"What do you mean?"
"He's your son.
Andrew's brother.
Whatever happens next affects all of you." I looked at him.
"I'm not here to make that decision for you.
I'm here because you said you'd been waiting for someone to call."
Robert nodded slowly.
"I've been trying to handle Daniel quietly for a long time," he said.
"Loans, conversations, second chances.
I kept thinking he'd find his footing." He paused.
"What he did to you and Andrew — sending someone into your home, using your sister against you — that's not a stumble.
That's a choice."
"Yes," I said.
"It is."
"I'm going to ask him to come here this week.
I'm going to tell him what I know.
And I'm going to tell him that the thirty-eight thousand dollars is no longer a private family matter — that if it isn't repaid within sixty days, I'll be speaking to a solicitor." He looked at me steadily.
"I'm also going to tell him that Andrew knows everything.
And that any further contact with you, your sister, or your household will end whatever relationship he still has with this family."
I looked at him.
"Does Andrew know you're doing this?"
"Not yet.
I'd like to tell him myself, if you'll allow it."
"Of course."
Robert picked up his mug again.
Outside, a bird landed on the garden fence and sat there for a moment before flying off.
"She was always the sharper one," he said quietly.
"His mother used to say that.
Andrew worked for things.
Daniel looked for angles." He shook his head.
"I should have addressed it more directly when they were young."
"You couldn't have known it would come to this."
"No." He paused.
"But I'm not sure that's entirely true."
I stayed for another hour.
We talked about other things — the garden, Andrew's work, a trip Robert was planning to see his sister in Edinburgh.
Ordinary things, held carefully between us like something that needed to be kept warm.
When I stood to leave, he walked me to the door.
"Thank you for calling me," he said.
"I know it wasn't easy."
"It wasn't," I agreed.
"How are you?
Honestly."
I thought about it.
"I'm angry," I said.
"And I'm sad.
And I'm relieved that Andrew is exactly who I thought he was." I paused.
"I think that's enough to work with."
Robert nodded.
Something in his face eased slightly.
"Give him my love," he said.
"Tell him I'll call tomorrow."
I drove home in the early afternoon with the windows down and the radio off.
My phone buzzed once on the passenger seat.
A text from Kayla.
*I found a room to rent.
I'm okay.
I know you need space.
I'll wait.*
I read it at a red light.
May you like
I didn't reply.
But I didn't delete it either.
