Chapter 16 - The House of Good Appearances
The fourth account held payments from vendors who had been promised preferred contracts with Harrington Commercial. Some invoices were legitimate. Others were not. The review would determine which were which.
I learned the details through counsel. Dad kept me out of lender decisions. I was a potential witness, not his weapon.
"Will your company take the Harrington business?" I asked him.
"We may have to restructure it," he said. "An independent manager is keeping the lights on. The workers haven't caused this. I won't pretend I can guarantee every job, but they'll be the priority."
Linda had spent years judging people by their last names, and now dozens of ordinary workers were depending on strangers to repair what her family had broken.
The criminal investigation proceeded separately from our divorce. My lawsuit over the forged documents had its own schedule. No single phone call had resolved it.
That truth would once have disappointed me. Now I found it reassuring. Facts were harder to bully than relatives.
I returned to work. One longtime client asked why I'd missed deadlines.
"Family emergency," I said.
"Can we do anything?"
I almost said no out of habit. Instead I accepted an extension. Asking didn't make me weak. It gave me room to do the work well.
One Saturday Dad arrived carrying the apple pie pan I'd left in Linda's pantry. Rosa had helped arrange its return when the caterers collected their equipment.
The pan was scratched, ordinary, and worth maybe twelve dollars. I cried as if he had carried back a treasure.
"I made that pie because I wanted them to like me," I said.
"Did you like it?" Dad asked.
"It was good pie."
"Then make another one for people who'll appreciate it."
May you like
That evening Margot forwarded a notice: Linda's charitable board had suspended her pending independent review.
And Daniel had submitted his first sworn correction to the statement he'd filed against me.
