Chapter 5: Breakfast With Wolves
I was up before anyone else.
I made coffee.
I found eggs in the refrigerator and scrambled them.
I set plates on the counter.
I moved through the kitchen like a man who had slept well and woken up grateful to be home.
By the time Margaret appeared in the doorway in her silk robe, the coffee was ready and I was rinsing a pan at the sink.
"David." She looked surprised.
"You didn't have to do all this."
"I wanted to." I smiled at her.
"Sit down, Mom.
Let me take care of breakfast."
She sat.
She poured herself coffee.
She watched me with an expression I recognized — the careful calculation of someone deciding how much to relax.
Paige came in ten minutes later, still in pajamas, phone already in hand.
"Morning," she said without looking up.
"Morning." I put a plate in front of her.
"Eggs okay?"
She glanced up, briefly surprised.
"Sure.
Thanks."
Gwen appeared last.
She was dressed already, her beanie on, her arms wrapped around herself out of habit.
She looked at me across the kitchen.
I gave her the smallest nod.
She sat down at the far end of the counter.
Margaret looked between us.
"Gwen, there's coffee."
"I know," Gwen said.
"Thank you."
The four of us ate.
I asked Margaret about the neighborhood.
I asked Paige about her work.
I listened to their answers and nodded and refilled their coffee and gave them nothing to read in my face.
Then Margaret set down her mug.
"David," she said, "I want to talk to you about something.
Now that you're home, we should discuss the house."
"What about it?"
"Well." She folded her hands on the counter.
"The upkeep has been significant.
Paige and I have been managing everything while you were away.
The renovations, the bills, all of it.
It's been a real responsibility."
"I appreciate that," I said.
"We were thinking — and this is just a conversation — that it might make sense to restructure things.
The property, the finances.
Make it more practical for everyone." She smiled.
"Garrett has some ideas.
He's very knowledgeable."
"Garrett," I repeated.
"That's Paige's boyfriend?
The attorney?"
"Real estate," Paige said, still looking at her phone.
"Right." I picked up my coffee.
"What kind of restructuring are we talking about?"
Margaret's smile stayed perfectly in place.
"Just a cleaner arrangement.
Something that protects everyone's interests."
"That sounds reasonable," I said.
"I'd want to look at anything like that carefully, of course.
Get my own eyes on the paperwork."
The smile didn't move.
But something behind it did.
"Of course," she said.
I looked at Paige.
"Is Garrett coming by this week?"
"Maybe Saturday," she said.
"Good.
I'd like to meet him." I set my mug down.
"I've been out of the loop for four years.
I want to make sure I understand everything that's been decided while I was gone."
Margaret's coffee cup touched the counter with a small, precise click.
"Everything has been handled very carefully," she said.
"You don't need to worry."
"I'm sure it has been." I stood up and took my plate to the sink.
"I'm going to make a few calls this morning.
Catch up with some people.
That okay?"
"Of course," Margaret said.
"This is your home."
She said it warmly.
Naturally.
Like she believed it.
I rinsed my plate and set it in the rack.
Behind me, I heard Paige's phone buzz.
I heard her shift on her stool.
I heard the very small sound of a text being typed quickly.
I dried my hands on a dish towel and walked out of the kitchen.
In the hallway, I took out my phone and called Ray.
He picked up on the second ring.
"David.
I heard you were back."
"I need you," I said quietly.
"Today if possible."
A pause.
"That bad?"
"Worse."
"Send me what you have.
I'll clear my afternoon."
I forwarded him Gwen's photos of the property transfer document.
Then I sent him screenshots of every bank transfer from the past four years.
His response came back in four minutes.
*This is fraud.
Don't touch anything.
Don't confront anyone yet.
I'm on my way.*
I put my phone in my pocket and walked back toward the kitchen to get Gwen.
She was still at the counter.
Margaret was talking to her about something — her posture was pleasant, relaxed, the picture of a mother-in-law making conversation.
But Gwen's hands were flat on the counter.
Very still.
The way a person holds themselves when they are trying not to flinch.
"Gwen," I said from the doorway.
"Can I show you something outside?
The back fence — I want your opinion on it."
She was off the stool before I finished the sentence.
Margaret watched us go.
Outside, the morning was cool and bright.
We walked to the far end of the yard, away from the windows.
"Ray is coming this afternoon," I said quietly.
"He's seen the documents."
Gwen exhaled slowly.
"What was she saying to you just now?"
Gwen looked at the back fence.
"She was telling me how much easier things were going to be now that you were home.
How we could all move forward together." A pause.
"She put her hand on my arm when she said it."
I didn't respond to that.
"David." Gwen turned to look at me.
"She knows something is different.
I can feel it."
May you like
"Let her feel it," I said.
"It won't matter by Saturday."
