Chapter 3 - RICK SAID HE DIDN’T KNOW EVERYTHING
Rick contacted me through his lawyer.
That alone told me his marriage was in trouble.
He wanted to talk.
Karen recommended attorneys present.
So we met in a conference room.
Rick looked terrible.
He had lost weight.
Dark circles.
No wedding ring.
Interesting.
His attorney began.
“Rick wants to clarify his involvement.”
I looked at him.
“Go ahead.”
Rick swallowed.
“I knew about the lease.”
My chest tightened.
“Did you know the signature was fake?”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
There.
No elaborate denial.
His lawyer shifted uncomfortably.
Rick continued:
“Jenna said you’d been paying rent anyway.”
I laughed softly.
“That made forgery okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He rubbed his hands.
“I didn’t know about the car loan.”
I stared.
“That’s convenient.”
“I know.”
“Furniture?”
“Yes.”
“You knew?”
“She said you agreed to guarantee it.”
“And you believed that?”
“At the time.”
I leaned back.
“Did you ever ask me?”
“No.”
Exactly.
Rick had benefited from a system where nobody asked Nate directly because the answer might interfere with what they wanted.
Then he said:
“Jenna told me you’d always helped her financially.”
“That part is true.”
“So when your name showed up…”
“You decided not to look too closely.”
Rick’s face collapsed slightly.
“Yes.”
At least honesty.
Then:
“She has more debt than I knew.”
“How much?”
“About sixty-seven thousand.”
That did not include the auto loan.
My stomach tightened.
“Credit cards?”
“Yes.”
“Personal loans?”
“Yes.”
“Anything in my name?”
“I don’t know.”
His attorney stepped in.
Rick had begun gathering records.
Not for me.
For his own legal protection.
Still useful.
Then Rick said something I did not expect.
“Jenna told Lily you were rich.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“She tells her Uncle Nate has plenty.”
My skin crawled.
“Why?”
“When Lily asks why we can’t buy something.”
There.
The next generation.
The story had begun transferring.
Uncle Nate has plenty.
Therefore wanting some is reasonable.
Therefore his no is selfish.
That night, I sat beside Oliver while he assembled a Lego kart.
“Buddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I ever make you feel like you have to give your things away because somebody else wants them?”
He looked up.
“Sometimes you make me share.”
Fair.
“Different question.”
I smiled.
“Do you think other people deserve your things more than you do?”
He frowned.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Just checking.”
He snapped another brick into place.
Then said:
“Aunt Jenna does.”
My hands stopped.
“What?”
“She told Lily that at my party.”
“When?”
“Before the cake.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What did she say?”
Oliver shrugged.
“She said I have lots of birthdays and Lily doesn’t get big parties.”
I stared.
“She said I should be nice and share mine.”
There it was.
The cake had not only been about Jenna wanting attention.
She had prepared Oliver to surrender it.
My eight-year-old son had been told generosity meant accepting less without complaint.
I knew that lesson intimately.
May you like
And suddenly I was more grateful than ever that we had walked out.
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