Chapter 8: What Margaret Did Next
Daniel called his mother from the rental car before he reached the highway.
"She knows about the foundation," he said.
A silence.
"Amy?"
"Yes."
"How much does she know?"
"Enough.
She figured it out from the reports last spring." He pulled onto the coast road heading toward Portland.
"She also figured out what Vanessa is doing."
"What do you mean?"
"She thinks Vanessa has been building leverage.
Using the foundation information and the personal situation together as insurance." He paused.
"She's probably right."
Margaret was quiet for a moment.
"Amy always was the clearest thinker in this family," she said.
"She wants you to fix the accounts before we do anything else.
Properly.
With a lawyer."
"I know."
"Do you have the assets to cover it?"
"Yes.
I've had them available for months.
I was—" She stopped.
"I was afraid of what you would think of me."
"Mom."
"I know."
"Call Richard Hale today," Daniel said.
Richard Hale was the family's estate attorney, a quiet man in his sixties who had handled every sensitive Harrison matter for twenty years without a word going further than his office.
"Tell him everything.
Let him structure the correction properly so there's a paper trail that shows it was an error being remedied, not something worse."
"And Vanessa?"
"Don't contact her.
Don't respond to her.
Not until the accounts are clean."
"She'll take that as an answer."
"Let her." He kept his eyes on the road.
"She's only dangerous if the foundation is exposed.
Once it's solid, she has nothing on you.
And the personal situation—" He paused.
"Amy and I will handle that ourselves."
"Is she coming home?"
"Not yet."
"But she spoke to you."
"Yes."
"Daniel." His mother's voice was careful.
"How is she?"
He thought about the small room above the bookstore.
The tea.
The steady way Amy had looked at him while he told her the truth.
The way she had held the envelope out without hesitation when he asked.
"She's the strongest person I know," he said.
"And I've been treating her like she'd always be there."
Margaret didn't say anything for a moment.
"Fix it," she said finally.
"Whatever it takes."
"I'm trying."
He heard her exhale.
"I'll call Richard today."
"Good."
"Daniel." A pause.
"Tell me she's all right."
"She's all right," he said.
"She's better than all right.
She's in a little town on the coast and she's thinking clearly and she's taking care of herself." He looked at the ocean through the passenger window.
"She's going to be fine.
It's us I'm not sure about yet."
He landed in New York that evening.
Richard Hale met him and Margaret at the apartment at eight o'clock.
He sat at the kitchen table with his reading glasses and a yellow legal pad and listened to Margaret explain everything from the beginning.
He asked three questions.
He wrote for ten minutes.
"This is correctable," he said.
"The intent was always repayment.
The documentation supports that interpretation.
We move the assets, file the amended reports, and notify the foundation board proactively before anyone else does." He looked at Margaret.
"Proactively is the key word.
If the board hears it from you first, with documentation showing the correction is already complete, this is an administrative matter.
If they hear it from someone else, it becomes something different."
"How long?" Daniel asked.
"I can have the transfer documents ready by Thursday.
Board notification by Friday."
"Do it," Margaret said.
Richard nodded and began writing again.
Daniel's phone buzzed.
Vanessa.
*You're back in the city.
I can see your office light from the street.
We need to talk tonight.*
He showed it to Richard without comment.
Richard read it.
"Don't respond," he said, and went back to his legal pad.
Daniel put the phone away.
At eleven that night, after Richard had left and Margaret had gone home, Daniel sat alone at the kitchen table.
The apartment was very quiet.
Amy's coat was still on the hook by the door.
Her reading glasses were still on the side table in the living room.
He picked up his phone and typed a message.
*The lawyer is handling the foundation.
It will be clean by Friday.
I told you the truth today and I meant all of it.
I'm not going to pressure you.
But I want you to know I'm here.*
He sent it before he could revise it.
Three minutes later, his phone lit up.
*I know,* Amy wrote back.
*Get some sleep.*
May you like
He looked at those four words for a long time.
Then, for the first time in five days, he did.
