Chapter 10: The Last Conversation
Dad called me himself, three days after his statement.
The nursing home had a phone in the common room that residents could use, and he had asked a nurse to dial my number.
I almost didn't recognize his voice when I answered — it was slower than usual, and quieter, as though the statement had cost him something he hadn't expected to spend.
"I wanted to tell you myself," he said.
"Before you heard it from the solicitor."
"I already heard," I said.
"Patricia called."
"Ah." A pause.
"Then you know I told them everything."
"Yes."
"I should have done it a long time ago." He stopped.
"I know that's not worth much now."
I stood at the kitchen counter with the phone pressed to my ear and didn't say anything for a moment.
"Why now?" I asked.
"After all this time.
Why tell the truth now?"
He was quiet for long enough that I thought the line had dropped.
"Because she had a daughter," he said finally.
"Because Laura had a daughter who kept a promise to a d*ing woman and came all the way here and mopped floors in a school just to find you." His voice was unsteady.
"I didn't think there was anyone left to account to.
And then there was."
"Rosa," I said.
"Yes."
I heard him breathe.
"I'd like to meet her," he said.
"If she's willing.
I won't ask her to forgive me.
I just — I'd like her to know that I know what I did.
That someone in this family said it plainly."
I thought about what Laura had written.
*Don't spend the rest of your life being angry on my behalf.*
"I'll ask her," I said.
"That's all I'm asking."
There was a pause, and then he said, "Ellen.
The sweater."
"What about it?"
"Your mother knitted that sweater.
She spent three months on it.
She cried for years not knowing where it was." His voice was very quiet.
"I'm glad it came back.
I'm glad it found its way home."
I didn't answer right away.
"So am I," I said finally.
We stayed on the line a little longer without saying much.
The way you do when there's nothing left to say that would be adequate, and silence is the only honest thing.
Then he said goodnight, and I said goodnight, and we hung up.
Gerald Marsh was formally charged seven weeks later.
Fourteen counts of investment fraud, two of which carried the historical documentation from Laura's lockbox as supporting evidence.
His business was shuttered.
His assets were frozen pending investigation.
His solicitors issued a statement saying he would contest the charges.
May you like
Patricia sent me a copy of the formal charge sheet.
I read the first page and put it in a drawer.
