Ryan placed the folder on the island. “Then explain this.”
The statements spanned almost four years. After his landscaping company collapsed, Mom had told Ryan the estate had overpaid him and that I demanded reimbursement for my share.
“I’ve been paying it back,” he said. “Two hundred here, five hundred there. Tax refunds. My warehouse bonus. Whatever we could spare.”
Kelsey examined the statements. “We skipped vacations for two years.”
Mom ordered Ryan to stop, but he pointed to the recipient: M. Whitmore Restoration Account. Briefly, I wondered whether she’d secretly been trying to undo her damage.
Then I recognized the routing number. Nora and my attorney had shown it to me two weeks earlier. The account belonged entirely to Diane.
“How much?” I asked.
“About seventy-eight thousand.” Ryan swallowed. “I thought I was paying you back.”
Seeing those modest payments from ordinary wages, I felt my anger shift. For years, I’d believed he hadn’t repaid anything, while he thought I’d been receiving his money.
Mom backed away, mentioning taxes, expenses, and legal fees. This time, neither of us looked away.
Chapter 3/5
The repayments began six weeks after Ryan’s business closed. Every month or two, he sent Mom money while she fed each of us different stories about the other.
“Your father left me with a mess,” she said.
“Dad left paperwork.”
She pressed a hand against the island. For forty years, she claimed, Dad had controlled every dollar. Purchases required discussion, and credit card statements became interrogations.
