Chapter 5: Rachel's Mother
"I'm Rachel's mother.""
I couldn't speak.
For eight years, Rachel had told me her mother was dead.
Not estranged.
Not missing.
Dead.
According to Rachel, Linda Mercer had died from complications after surgery when Rachel was twenty-three.
There had been no funeral photographs in our home. No grave we visited. No relatives who talked about her.
Rachel always said the memories were too painful.
Now a woman's voice on the phone was telling me that entire history was a lie.
"That's impossible.""
"I know what Rachel told you.""
"Who is this?""
"Linda Mercer.""
My mother gripped the edge of the table.
She looked terrified.
"How did you get my number?""
"Your father gave it to me.""
I looked at Mom.
She shook her head slowly.
"Daniel," Linda continued, "I need to talk to you in person.""
"No. You need to start talking now.""
A pause.
"I don't know what Rachel has told you about me.""
"She told me you were dead.""
Silence.
Then Linda whispered, "Of course she did.""
I stood so quickly my chair scraped across the floor.
"Where is Rachel?""
"I don't know.""
"Are you working with her?""
"No.""
"Then why call tonight?""
"Because Evelyn called me.""
I turned toward Mom.
"You called her?""
Mom's eyes filled.
"Three weeks ago.""
The same time she'd met with the lawyer.
"Why?""
"Your father's letter contained Linda's number.""
"Mom, Dad has been dead for six years.""
"I know.""
"You had this information for six years?""
"No. The lawyer had it.""
She pressed a hand against her chest.
"Your father left instructions. I wasn't supposed to receive everything unless certain circumstances occurred.""
"What circumstances?""
Mom looked toward the assisted-living brochure.
"If someone tried to remove me from my home or pressure me financially.""
My stomach dropped.
"Your home?""
Mom nodded.
I stared at her.
"What do you mean, your home?""
Her voice broke.
"This house.""
I almost laughed because the alternative was shouting.
"This is my house.""
"No, sweetheart.""
She wiped her eyes.
"You live here. You pay the mortgage expenses, taxes, repairs. But legally...""
She stopped.
"Legally what?""
"The property is held by the Carter Family Trust.""
My knees weakened.
I sat again.
"What trust?""
"The one your father created.""
I stared around the room.
The fireplace I'd repaired.
The kitchen I'd remodeled.
The bedroom Rachel and I had shared for six years.
My mother continued.
"Your father purchased this property shortly before he died. He placed it in the trust so you would always have a home.""
"Why didn't I know?""
"You were grieving. Then you and Rachel were planning the wedding. Your father didn't want money changing anything.""
"Who controls the trust?""
Mom looked at me.
"I do.""
The room became impossibly quiet.
Suddenly Rachel's behavior took on a different shape.
The chores.
The assisted-living brochure.
The pressure.
"Did Rachel know?""
Mom hesitated.
"I don't know.""
My phone was still pressed against my ear.
Linda finally spoke.
"She knows.""
I stood again.
"How?""
"Because I told her.""
The answer hit harder than I expected.
"When?""
"Six months ago.""
"Why?""
Linda exhaled shakily.
"Because she found me.""
I closed my eyes.
Nothing made sense anymore.
"You need to explain everything.""
"I will.""
"Now.""
"I can't do it over the phone.""
"You've had six years to do it.""
"I've had longer than that.""
Something in her voice stopped me.
"Daniel, your father found me nine years ago.""
Before the wedding.
"He came to my apartment carrying a photograph of Rachel.""
"Why?""
"Because he'd hired someone to look into her.""
I gripped the phone.
"My father investigated my girlfriend?""
"He was worried.""
"About what?""
"Your money.""
I almost laughed.
"I didn't have money.""
Linda was silent.
Then she said, "You didn't know you had money.""
I looked at Mom.
She covered her mouth.
"Mom?""
"Daniel...""
"How much?""
She looked down.
"Your father's company was worth more than he told you.""
My father had owned a small regional equipment business.
At least, that's what I'd believed.
"How much?""
Mom's voice was barely audible.
"When he sold his shares, after taxes and debts...""
She paused.
"Just over eleven million dollars.""
I stopped breathing.
"No.""
"He invested most of it.""
"No.""
"He wanted you to build your own life without knowing.""
I walked toward the window.
Outside, Rachel's car was gone.
"Does Rachel know?""
Linda answered.
"Yes.""
The word landed like a hammer.
I turned around.
"How long?""
"I can't be certain.""
"Guess.""
"Before she married you.""
My hand tightened around the phone.
Then headlights swept across the living-room wall.
A car entered the driveway.
Mom stood.
"Is that Rachel?""
I moved toward the window.
It wasn't Rachel's car.
A dark sedan stopped near the front steps.
A woman climbed out.
Late fifties, maybe early sixties.
Dark coat.
Silver-streaked hair.
She held a thick folder against her chest.
My phone remained at my ear.
"Daniel?"" Linda said.
I watched the woman approach.
"Where are you?""
"Outside your house.""
Mom whispered, "Oh God.""
The doorbell rang.
I opened the door.
The woman looked exhausted.
Not dangerous.
Not triumphant.
Just frightened.
She lowered her phone.
"I'm Linda.""
I didn't invite her inside.
"Prove it.""
She opened the folder.
The first thing she removed was a photograph.
Rachel at seventeen.
Standing beside the woman on my porch.
I stared at it.
Linda's eyes filled with tears.
"Your father didn't investigate Rachel because she had debt, Daniel.""
I looked up.
"Then why?""
Linda swallowed.
"Because Rachel had already been married once.""
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Linda pulled another document from the folder.
"And the man she married...""
May you like
Her hand began shaking.
"...was your father's business partner.""
