Chapter 55 - What His Mother Knew
Irene Collins arrived with a handbag I had once admired and a face I barely recognized.
Not because she looked older.
Because she looked uncertain.
During my marriage, uncertainty was something she assigned to other people.
I was too sensitive.
Julian was too busy.
Money was too complicated for an argument at dinner.
Now she sat across from Sarah and me and twisted the clasp of her bag.
“I didn’t mean to upset Leo.”
“He didn’t receive the card,” I said.
Her eyes lifted.
“I know.”
“Then we can discuss what you sent without making him part of it.”
She nodded.
It was not the opening she wanted.
I no longer felt obligated to supply one.
Sarah asked permission to review the messages.
Irene provided her phone through the process her own attorney had advised.
Copies had been preserved before our meeting.
Julian had asked her to help show continuing family ties.
He had suggested the rabbit.
He had supplied the wording.
Then, in another message, he had described my concerns as something that could be softened if the foundation’s legal problems stopped occupying me.
I looked at Sarah.
She kept reading.
There was a name.
Celia.
Julian told his mother that Celia might help arrange a less adversarial approach.
Someone Audrey would listen to.
Someone who could discuss the foundation without every conversation becoming a legal proceeding.
I sat back slowly.
Even from prison, he imagined the answer was finding a person I had not yet learned to distrust.
Irene watched me.
“He said she helped with business introductions.”
“She did.”
“I didn’t know what that meant.”
“Did you ask?”
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
“No.”
The answer stayed between us.
Sarah asked whether Irene knew Celia before the recent messages.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Julian introduced us years ago.”
“When?”
Irene gave a date before our wedding.
My stomach tightened.
“At what occasion?”
“A lunch.”
“What was discussed?”
Irene glanced at me.
The look told me enough to brace myself.
“Whether Audrey would be comfortable with our family.”
I almost laughed.
Our family.
As though the only danger had been whether I would fit at Christmas.
“What did Celia ask?”
Irene’s voice lowered.
“Whether you were close to your father. Whether you trusted people quickly. Whether you would prefer a small wedding.”
“Why would she need to know that?”
“Julian said she was helping him plan.”
I stared at her.
She looked down.
“I wanted him to settle down.”
“So did I.”
Her eyes filled.
For years, I might have rushed to make that easier for her.
This time, I let her understand the sentence.
Irene said Julian had told her I knew about his referral arrangements.
That my father approved.
That business people always helped one another meet the right families.
“Did that sound normal to you?” I asked.
She took a long breath.
“I didn’t let myself examine it.”
It was the first honest answer she had given me in years.
She had not known every forged page.
She had not designed the scheme.
She had liked the version in which her son was ambitious and fortunate.
When evidence challenged that version, she had asked me to be more patient.
I remembered calling her once after finding a hidden credit notice.
She told me not to humiliate Julian by questioning him while he was under pressure.
I reminded her.
Her face changed.
“I remember.”
“I needed somebody to ask whether I was all right.”
“I know.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You know now.”
She cried.
Sarah gave her time.
Then Irene explained that she had preserved an old email folder because it contained wedding plans.
Celia appeared in it.
So did Thomas.
She would provide the relevant material through counsel.
I thanked her for that.
I did not promise a relationship with Leo.
I did not promise forgiveness.
She seemed to understand the difference.
Before leaving, she asked whether he had enjoyed his birthday.
“Yes.”
“Did he have a cake?”
“A dinosaur.”
She smiled through tears.
“Julian liked dinosaurs.”
I stood.
“Leo likes dinosaurs.”
The correction was gentle.
It was still a correction.
After she left, Sarah placed one copied email in front of me.
Celia had written to Julian before our wedding.
Your mother is supportive. David remains the obstacle. Do not push Audrey directly.
I looked at the date.
May you like
The next day, Julian had surprised me with flowers.
I remembered telling him nobody had ever understood me so well.
