Chapter 7 - The Letter Thomas Never Sent
Daniel Price met us the following afternoon.
He had kind eyes, an immaculate gray suit, and the deliberate manner of a man who understood that families could injure one another more deeply than strangers.
His office overlooked a narrow Boston street lined with old brick buildings.
Serena drove.
Arthur accompanied us despite his aching knees.
I wore my navy dress.
The same one I had intended to wear to Benjamin's dinner.
Not because I wanted to remember the insult.
Because I wanted to remember that I had dressed for an evening of love and discovered something important about myself instead.
Daniel greeted me at the door.
"Mrs. Kelley."
"Please call me Eleanor."
He nodded.
"Your husband spoke very highly of you."
For a moment, I could not answer.
We entered his conference room.
A sealed cream envelope rested in the center of the table.
My name was written across it.
Thomas's handwriting.
Even after seventeen years, I knew every curve of those letters.
Daniel sat opposite me.
"Thomas asked me to retain this unless you contacted me independently."
"Why?"
"He was concerned about undue pressure."
"From Benjamin?"
"From anyone who might benefit from controlling your decisions."
I looked down.
"How long have you had it?"
"Seventeen years."
My throat tightened.
"May I open it?"
"Of course."
The envelope made a soft tearing sound.
Inside were four pages.
The first began with the words I had heard in dreams for years.
My darling Ellie.
I stopped reading.
For a moment, I was back in our bedroom, listening to Thomas ask whether I wanted the window open.
I remembered him pretending to dislike the enormous floral quilt my mother had made us.
I remembered his laughter when Benjamin accidentally painted the garage door green instead of white.
I remembered the kind of love that existed in ordinary decisions repeated for decades.
Then I read.
If you are holding this letter, something has gone wrong.
I wish I could be beside you when you learn what I could not bring myself to say.
Benjamin has made serious financial decisions without your knowledge.
I discovered documents that appear to carry your signature, although I do not believe you signed them.
Margaret Whitcomb advised me that the transactions could be corrected privately.
I wanted to believe her.
I also wanted to believe our son would tell us the truth when given the opportunity.
He did not.
My eyes filled.
I continued.
Please understand this one thing.
None of this is your failure.
We taught Benjamin to be loved.
We did not teach him that love allowed him to take what was not offered.
I stopped.
Daniel placed a glass of water beside me.
I took a sip.
Then I kept reading.
I have created an independent trust to protect your future.
You may think I kept something from you, and in this, you would be right.
I regret that.
But I feared you would spend your old age repairing mistakes that were never yours to repair.
You have already given more than enough.
The third page contained a list of company names.
Westbrook Residential Partners.
Kelley Heritage Holdings.
Several entities I did not recognize.
And one that made Arthur sit forward when he saw it.
Northbridge Advisory Services.
"What is it?" I asked.
Daniel looked toward him.
Arthur shook his head.
"I thought that company had closed."
"Who owned it?"
Arthur swallowed.
"Margaret's husband."
I turned to Daniel.
"Did Thomas know?"
"Yes."
"Was there a connection?"
"We believed so."
Daniel opened a file.
"Thomas suspected that some of the financing fees and consulting payments were being diverted to entities associated with Margaret's family."
"Why didn't he report it?"
Daniel looked carefully at me.
"Some documentation was incomplete."
He paused.
"And Thomas was gravely ill."
I returned to the letter.
The final paragraph was shorter.
Ellie, I know you will want to save Benjamin.
But if saving him requires sacrificing your independence, your home, or your peace, please remember that he is a grown man.
You are allowed to love him without financing his choices.
And you are allowed to be angry.
All my love, for all the years we had and the years I wish we could have had.
Thomas.
I folded the letter.
No one spoke.
Outside, a delivery truck backed into an alley.
A siren passed somewhere in the distance.
Life continued with its extraordinary indifference.
Finally, I looked at Daniel.
"What do we do?"
He leaned forward.
"We first establish precisely what was authorized and what was not."
"And then?"
"We preserve the documents, examine the relevant transactions, and determine whether civil action or a referral to the appropriate authorities is warranted."
I nodded.
"I want my home protected."
"That can be our immediate priority."
"I want my money separated from every business connected to Benjamin."
"Understood."
"And I want Charlotte protected from this."
Daniel regarded me for a moment.
"Those goals may require different legal approaches."
"Then we'll use different approaches."
He gave the smallest smile.
"Thomas said you were practical."
"He also said I was stubborn."
"He said that more frequently."
For the first time in two days, I laughed.
Then Serena's telephone rang.
She stepped outside.
When she returned, her expression was grim.
"Something happened."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Benjamin and Genevieve have retained another attorney."
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
"That's not unusual."
"No," Serena said.
"But they've also filed an emergency petition."
I stared at her.
"What petition?"
She looked directly at me.
"They're asking the court to appoint someone to manage Eleanor's finances."
For a moment, I thought I had misheard her.
May you like
Then Serena added the words that explained everything.
"They're claiming she no longer has the capacity to make responsible decisions."
