Chapter 8: What Harriet's Daughter Found
Mom's friend Harriet answered on the third ring, still surprised to be called on a Sunday morning.
Mom kept it brief — she needed Harriet's daughter Karen's direct number, the one for her office at St.
Catherine's, not the general line.
Harriet gave it without asking too many questions.
That was the thing about old friends.
Karen called back within twenty minutes.
She'd already pulled up Danny's file — Teresa had listed Richard as an emergency contact two years ago, which meant Karen could speak to him directly.
Richard sat at the kitchen table with the phone on speaker, and Karen walked them through it in the calm, efficient way of someone who had navigated these conversations many times before.
"The gap in Teresa's new insurance plan is real," Karen said.
"But there's a pediatric cardiac assistance fund attached to St.
Catherine's foundation.
It's not widely advertised.
Most families don't know it exists unless someone points them to it."
"Does Danny qualify?" Richard asked.
"Based on what I'm seeing, almost certainly yes.
The application takes about a week to process.
If it's approved — and I have no reason to think it won't be — it would cover the procedure in full."
Richard put his hand flat on the table.
"One week," he said.
"Possibly less.
I'll flag it as time-sensitive."
After Karen hung up, nobody spoke for a moment.
Then Chloe said, "So Teresa doesn't have to say yes to Garrett."
"Not for the money," I said.
"Not for the procedure."
Richard was looking at the table.
"She still has to tell him that.
And he's not going to take it well."
Mom set her phone down.
"Frank is next," she said.
Frank, the retired insurance lawyer two doors down.
She was already scrolling to his number.
Frank picked up on the first ring, which meant he'd been awake for hours and was probably already on his second cup of coffee on the back porch.
Mom explained the situation in four sentences.
Frank asked two questions.
Then he said, "Tell her not to agree to anything in writing or in person without a family law attorney present.
If Garrett is using financial leverage to contest a signed parental rights agreement, there are sanctions for that.
He needs to know she knows that."
"Can you recommend someone?" Mom asked.
"My daughter-in-law," Frank said immediately.
"She's been doing family law for twelve years.
I'll call her right now.
She'll make time."
Mom thanked him and hung up.
She looked at Richard.
"You've been carrying this for two years," she said.
"Two years of every night, every excuse, every early exit.
And in forty minutes on a Sunday morning, we have a funding solution and a lawyer."
Richard looked at her.
His expression was difficult to read — not quite relief, not quite shame.
Something in between.
"I didn't want to ask," he said.
"I know you didn't." She reached across and put her hand over his again.
"That's why I didn't wait for you to."
Chloe had been quiet for several minutes.
Now she looked up from the table.
"What happens when Garrett finds out the procedure is covered?" she asked.
"When he finds out Teresa doesn't need his money anymore?"
Richard's jaw tightened slightly.
"He finds out he has no leverage," I said.
"And then what does he do?"
Nobody answered right away.
Richard picked up his phone.
There was a new message on the screen — not from Teresa.
From the same number as before.
From Garrett.
It said: *Tick tock.
May you like
Teresa knows what I want.
Tell her I'm not a patient man.*
