Chapter 10: Daniel's Choice
Carol called on a Thursday afternoon.
"I spoke with Garrett," she said.
"He relayed our position to Daniel.
Daniel asked for twenty-four hours."
"Did he get them?"
"I gave him until Friday at noon."
Friday at eleven-forty, Daniel called my cell phone directly.
I answered because Carol had said I could, once, if he called before the deadline.
"I need to see you," he said.
"Not through attorneys.
Just us."
"Where?"
"The park.
The one near the house.
An hour."
I called Carol first.
She said to go, to keep my phone recording, and to say nothing I wouldn't want a judge to hear.
He was already there when I arrived, sitting on a bench near the fountain.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
His jacket was wrinkled.
He had a paper coffee cup in his hands that he wasn't drinking from.
I sat down at the other end of the bench.
For a moment neither of us said anything.
The fountain ran.
A pair of ducks moved across the water.
"She told me it would be fine," he said finally.
"The dinner.
She said Sophie's allergy wasn't as serious as you made it out to be.
She said you used it to keep Sophie away from the family."
"You watched her open the jar, Daniel."
"I know."
"You moved the camera."
"I know." He set the coffee cup on the bench beside him.
"I told myself I was wrong about what I saw.
That it was just the jar being out.
That Mom wouldn't actually — " He stopped.
"And then Sophie grabbed her throat and I froze.
I just froze.
And I have not stopped seeing that since."
I said nothing.
"She's been running this from the beginning," he said.
"The attorney, the filing, the deed — I thought I was making decisions and she was just supporting me.
But she was making the decisions and I was agreeing to them." He looked at the fountain.
"The therapy record.
She told me it was in our shared drive.
I didn't think about what it meant to give it to Garrett.
I just did what she said."
"You gave them my private medical record, Daniel."
"I know." His voice was hollow.
"I know what I did."
The ducks had moved to the far edge of the water.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I want to tell the truth," he said.
"To Carol.
To the court.
Whatever they need.
I'll tell them about the camera.
About the attorney.
About the deed.
About what I saw in the kitchen." He paused.
"I'm not going to fight you for Sophie.
I never should have let that be part of the filing.
That was Mom's idea and I — I let it happen."
"Why are you doing this now?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Marcus called me," he said.
"Last night.
He's ten years old and he called me and he said, 'Uncle Danny, I told the truth.
You should too.'" Daniel's jaw tightened.
"A ten-year-old child had more courage than I did."
I looked at the fountain.
"Carol will need a formal statement," I said.
"Everything.
Dated and signed."
"I'll do it."
"And the deed.
You'll need to work with her to address the financial structure."
"I'll do that too."
I stood up.
"Daniel." I waited until he looked at me.
"Sophie loves you.
Whatever happens between us, she loves you.
Don't make her lose her father on top of everything else."
He nodded.
His eyes were wet.
I left him on the bench.
Walking back to my car, I kept my phone in my hand.
I stopped the recording.
I called Carol.
"He'll cooperate," I said.
A brief pause.
"All right," Carol said.
"Send me the recording.
I'll contact Garrett this afternoon."
May you like
"What happens to Evelyn?"
"That," Carol said, "is no longer just a family matter."
