Chapter 6 - What Laura Knew
The next morning Margaret asked Laura to walk with her.
Not Eric.
Not Evelyn.
Laura alone.
They followed the cliff path Henry had built from flat stones during the summer Laura turned thirteen.
Wind pulled at their coats.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Laura finally said, “If this is another lecture—”
“How much did you know about Eric’s debts?”
Laura stopped.
That answered part of it.
Margaret continued walking.
“Mom.”
“How much?”
Laura caught up.
“He has business debt.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Try.”
Laura looked toward the sea.
“Maybe eight hundred thousand.”
Margaret’s chest tightened.
“His personally guaranteed obligations are more than two million.”
Laura’s face lost color.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get that?”
“Henry.”
Laura stared.
“What?”
“Your father knew.”
Laura looked genuinely shocked.
Margaret watched carefully.
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
“Did you know Eric asked Henry to borrow against Seabriar?”
Laura looked away.
“Laura.”
“He mentioned an investment.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Laura exhaled.
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“I know about one.”
“Henry said two.”
Laura hugged herself against the cold.
“Dad hated Eric.”
“No.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Henry distrusted him.”
“Same thing.”
“It is not.”
Laura’s eyes flashed.
“You always defend Dad.”
“He is dead, Laura.”
“That doesn’t make him perfect.”
Margaret felt the accusation strike somewhere real.
“No.”
She nodded.
“It doesn’t.”
Laura seemed surprised.
Margaret continued.
“He withheld information from me because he thought he was protecting me.”
Laura stared.
“I’m angry about that.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you acting like everything he did was right?”
“I’m not.”
Margaret stopped walking.
“But your father being wrong does not make Eric honest.”
Laura looked down.
Margaret asked, “Did you tell Eric I would be easier to manage after Henry died?”
Laura’s face froze.
Margaret knew.
“How did you—”
“Answer.”
Laura’s eyes filled.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it?”
“You hate financial paperwork.”
“So?”
“You always let Dad handle investments.”
“So?”
“I thought…”
“What?”
“That I would help.”
“No.”
Laura shook her head.
“That’s what I meant.”
“No, Laura.”
Margaret’s voice remained calm.
“You said you would handle everything.”
Laura began crying.
“You were falling apart after Dad died.”
“Yes.”
“You barely slept.”
“Yes.”
“You forgot things.”
“Of course I forgot things.”
“You left the stove on.”
“Once.”
“You missed an appointment.”
“One dentist appointment.”
“You stopped opening mail.”
“For six weeks after my husband of forty-eight years died.”
Laura wiped her face angrily.
“You looked lost.”
Margaret softened for one second.
“I was.”
Laura looked at her.
“But being lost is not the same as being incapable.”
The wind moved between them.
Laura looked away.
Margaret continued.
“Did you contact my bank about taking over my accounts?”
Laura hesitated.
“I asked what would happen if you needed help.”
“Why?”
“Because Eric said we should be prepared.”
“For what?”
Laura’s silence was unbearable.
“Laura.”
“If you got worse.”
Margaret stared.
“Worse.”
“I don’t mean—”
“You mean if grief became incompetence.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Laura began walking again.
Margaret followed.
“Did you plan to have me evaluated?”
Laura stopped so abruptly Margaret nearly collided with her.
“No.”
The answer came fast.
Too fast.
“Did Eric?”
“I don’t know.”
“Laura.”
“I don’t know!”
For a moment mother and daughter stared at one another.
Then Laura’s anger collapsed.
She whispered, “He had a doctor’s name.”
Margaret felt cold despite the coat.
“What doctor?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Why?”
“He said if you ever became unable to manage things, we should know how the process worked.”
“Did you think I was unable?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Laura looked toward the villa.
“Because every time I brought up money, you shut down.”
Margaret almost objected.
Then reconsidered.
After Henry died, she had avoided finances.
Not because she was incapable.
Because every account statement carried Henry’s name.
Every discussion reminded her she was alone.
“I did avoid it.”
Laura seized on that.
“Exactly.”
Margaret raised one hand.
“That does not excuse planning around me.”
Laura’s shoulders dropped.
“No.”
It was the first clean admission.
Margaret studied her daughter.
“Did you know Eric was preparing a three-million-dollar credit line?”
“No.”
“I believe you.”
Laura looked relieved.
“Did you know he wanted me to sign a power of attorney?”
Laura’s relief vanished.
“We discussed one.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Laura.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”
“A power of attorney can be revoked. That isn’t the point.”
“I thought it would make things easier.”
“For whom?”
Laura began crying again.
Margaret did not comfort her immediately.
Then Laura whispered something unexpected.
“I was scared.”
Margaret looked at her.
“Of me?”
“Of losing everything.”
The sentence hung between them.
“What everything?”
Laura covered her face.
“Eric said the business was under pressure.”
“How much did he tell you?”
“Not two million.”
Laura lowered her hands.
“He said if Harbor Point failed we might have to sell our house. Pull Sophie from her school. Start over.”
Margaret understood.
Fear.
Henry had said frightened people could begin treating other people’s property as unused potential.
Laura continued.
“Then he said Seabriar would be mine someday anyway.”
Margaret’s expression changed.
Laura saw it.
“I know how that sounds.”
“No.”
Margaret shook her head.
“You know how it is.”
Laura looked away.
“I thought we could borrow against part of what I’d inherit.”
“You cannot borrow against someone else being dead.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Laura started to respond.
Margaret interrupted.
“Because I am standing here alive and you have already been spending what you think comes after me.”
Laura flinched.
Margaret’s voice broke.
“I am your mother.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“I don’t think you have known that for a while.”
Laura cried silently.
Then she whispered, “Are you cutting me out of the will?”
Margaret stared.
Even now.
Money.
Inheritance.
The question told her exactly how much work remained.
“I haven’t decided what I’m doing with my estate.”
Laura’s face tightened.
“So Dad was right.”
“What does that mean?”
“He always liked controlling everyone with money.”
Margaret almost laughed from disbelief.
“Your father protected the house from Eric.”
“What?”
Margaret stopped herself.
She had revealed enough.
Laura looked suddenly alert.
“What did he do?”
Margaret turned back toward the villa.
“You have twenty-seven days to find another place to live.”
“Mom!”
“And Laura?”
Her daughter stared.
“Stop talking to Sophie about inheritance.”
Laura went pale.
“What did she tell you?”
“Enough.”
Margaret walked away.
Behind her, Laura called, “Mom, wait.”
Margaret did not.
Not because she wanted to punish her daughter.
Because for the first time, she understood that every conversation had been happening on Laura’s timetable.
May you like
Margaret was allowed to end one.
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