Chapter 4: The Call He Made
He stepped out onto the front porch to make the call.
I stayed at the kitchen table.
I didn't need to hear it.
I already knew who he would call first.
Diane answered before the second ring.
I could hear the faint shape of her voice through the glass panel beside the door — not the words, just the tone.
Clipped.
Certain.
The voice she used when she was already organizing a solution.
Ethan came back inside seven minutes later.
"Mom wants to talk to you."
"I'm sure she does."
"Maren—"
"I'm not talking to your mother today, Ethan."
He set his phone on the table between us.
Diane's voice came through the speaker before either of us said another word.
"Maren.
I think we all need to take a breath before anyone does something they'll regret."
I looked at the phone.
"Good morning, Diane."
"Last night got out of hand.
I'll admit that.
But you walking out with the girls the way you did — in front of everyone — that was also not appropriate."
"Your son told me not to make it a problem.
I didn't.
I left."
"You embarrassed this family."
"Your family embarrassed itself.
I just stopped pretending not to notice."
A pause.
When Diane spoke again, her voice had changed.
Quieter.
More careful.
"I understand you're upset.
But you need to think about what a divorce would do to those girls.
To Lily and Emma.
Children need stability.
They need their father.
You pulling them out of their lives over a disagreement at a party—"
"You took food from their hands, Diane.
While they were still eating.
In front of strangers."
Silence.
"That was a misunderstanding."
"Lily told you she was still eating.
You smiled at her and took the plate anyway." I kept my voice even.
"Don't call it a misunderstanding."
Another pause.
Then: "Ethan tells me you've spoken to an attorney."
"I have."
"Then you know how these things work.
Asset division.
Custody arrangements.
It gets very complicated, very quickly.
Especially when one party has been concealing financial information from the other."
There it was.
I had been waiting for it.
"Concealing," I repeated.
"You built a company — apparently a significant one — during your marriage.
Without disclosing it.
A family court judge might find that very interesting."
I stood up from the table.
Walked to the window.
"Diane.
Every tax return I have ever filed lists Monroe Property Advisory as my primary income source.
Every year.
For twelve years.
Ethan signed those returns."
The silence this time was longer.
"He may not have read them carefully," she said.
"That's his problem, not mine."
Ethan was watching me.
Something in his expression had shifted from calculation to something closer to unease.
"This conversation is over," I said.
"Tell your attorney to contact mine."
I ended the call.
Ethan didn't move.
"She's trying to help," he said finally.
"She's trying to win.
Those are different things." I picked up my phone.
"The girls will be up soon.
I'd like you to leave before they come downstairs."
"You can't just—"
"I can.
This is my house.
My name.
My deed." I looked at him.
"You're welcome to verify that before you go."
He picked up his keys.
Stood at the door for a moment.
"This isn't over, Maren."
"No," I agreed.
"It isn't."
He left.
I stood in the kitchen and listened to his car back out of the driveway.
Then I heard small feet on the stairs, and Emma appeared in the doorway in her pajamas, hair still tangled from sleep, holding the stuffed rabbit she'd had since she was two.
"Is Daddy gone?" she asked.
"Yes, sweetheart."
She looked at me for a moment.
Then she walked to the table, climbed into a chair, and set her rabbit carefully on the one beside her.
"Can we have pancakes?"
"We can have pancakes."
I turned to the stove.
Behind me, I heard Lily come down the stairs and take her seat without a word.
I didn't know yet what Ethan was planning.
But I knew Diane had not made that call simply to reason with me.
May you like
She had made it to find out how much I knew.
And that meant there was something she didn't want me to find.
