Chapter 3 - Jennifer Came Looking for Answers
Three days later, Jennifer sat across from me holding a glass of white wine and pretending we were friends.
It happened at Solomon’s company fundraiser.
Normally I would have skipped it.
After the week I had endured, standing beneath ballroom lights while strangers praised my husband’s creativity sounded like a punishment.
But when Solomon asked whether I was coming, I heard something underneath the question.
He wanted to know how normal I planned to behave.
So I went.
I wore a navy dress.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing designed to announce revenge.
Solomon looked genuinely pleased when I came downstairs.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist.
For a photograph, we probably looked happy.
That realization no longer hurt the way I expected.
Images lie easily.
At the hotel ballroom, Jennifer found us within fifteen minutes.
She wore an emerald dress and the kind of expression people wear when they have rehearsed being casual.
“Caroline.”
“Jennifer.”
She hugged me.
Actually hugged me.
Her perfume hit me first.
The same floral scent I remembered from our upstairs hallway weeks earlier.
At the time, I had assumed Charlotte had changed perfume.
Now I knew.
“You look amazing,” Jennifer said.
“So do you.”
She glanced at Solomon.
One glance.
Half a second.
But I saw what familiarity does to two people.
Not desire.
Recognition.
The silent adjustment people make around someone whose body they know.
Solomon stepped away to greet a client.
Jennifer stayed.
“How’s Theo?”
There it was again.
“He’s doing great.”
“Good.”
She sipped her wine.
“I always worry when little kids get sick.”
“Do you?”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“Sweet of you.”
For the first time, she looked uncertain.
A waiter passed.
I took sparkling water.
Jennifer watched me.
“Not drinking?”
“Not tonight.”
Her gaze moved briefly toward my stomach.
I almost laughed.
“No,” I said.
She blinked.
“No what?”
“I’m not pregnant.”
Her cheeks colored.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.”
I took a sip.
“How are things at the office?”
“Busy.”
“Solomon says you two have been working closely.”
Her grip changed around the glass.
“We have.”
“That must involve a lot of late nights.”
“Sometimes.”
I smiled.
“He’s lucky to have someone so committed.”
If Jennifer had been entirely certain I knew nothing, she would have relaxed.
She didn’t.
Her eyes searched my face.
Then she said, “Solomon really values stability.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
She laughed.
“He just talks about his family a lot.”
“I’m sure he does.”
“He’s very proud of the life you’ve built.”
I held her gaze.
“The house especially?”
Her face changed.
There.
Tiny.
Immediate.
A flicker of alarm.
Then recovery.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. My father has always taken good care of it.”
The emphasis was deliberate.
My father.
Jennifer looked toward Solomon across the room.
That was all I needed.
She did not understand the ownership situation as clearly as Solomon had led her to believe.
Interesting.
Before she could respond, Charlotte appeared beside us.
“Caroline, darling.”
Her tone was overly warm.
Charlotte wore ivory silk and pearls.
The woman had always dressed as though a photographer might arrive unexpectedly.
She kissed my cheek.
Then smiled at Jennifer.
“Wonderful event.”
Jennifer nodded stiffly.
Charlotte knew.
Jennifer knew Charlotte knew.
Standing between them, I suddenly understood how long I had been the only person excluded from my own marriage.
“Where’s Theo tonight?” Charlotte asked.
“With my father.”
Her smile remained, but her eyes sharpened.
“Oh.”
“He wanted a grandfather night.”
“You could have called me.”
“I know.”
“You know I’m always available.”
“That’s generous.”
Charlotte touched my arm.
“Family helps family.”
I looked at her hand.
Then back at her.
“Yes. They should.”
She withdrew it.
Something passed over her face.
Maybe guilt.
More likely suspicion.
Later, in the ladies’ room, Jennifer entered while I was washing my hands.
No one else was there.
She stood at the mirror beside me.
For several seconds neither of us spoke.
Then she said, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Direct.
More direct than I expected.
I dried my hands.
“Why would you ask that?”
“You seem different.”
“Long week.”
“Solomon said the same.”
Of course he had.
I turned toward her.
“Jennifer, is there something you want to ask me?”
Her face went still.
“No.”
“Then we’re fine.”
I walked out.
My legs trembled only after the door closed behind me.
At home, I checked on Theo before going to bed.
He had fallen asleep at Dad’s house, so I was alone with Solomon.
He poured himself bourbon.
“You and Jennifer talk?”
“A little.”
“About what?”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“She said you seemed cold.”
I almost smiled.
“She called you?”
“We work together.”
“Of course.”
Solomon drank.
“You don’t like her?”
“I barely know her.”
He watched me.
“Maybe don’t make things awkward. She’s important to the team.”
I stared at him.
This man was asking me to protect his mistress’s comfort.
The audacity was almost impressive.
“I’ll try harder,” I said.
His shoulders relaxed.
“Thanks.”
The next morning, Charlotte arrived without calling.
I opened the front door.
“Theo ready?”
“For what?”
“The park.”
Behind me, Theo appeared carrying his red car.
“Grandma!”
Charlotte smiled too quickly.
“There’s my boy.”
I stepped into the doorway.
“Theo has plans.”
Her expression changed.
“Solomon said—”
“I know.”
“What plans?”
“With me.”
Charlotte lowered her voice.
“Caroline, don’t be difficult.”
I smiled.
“I’m his mother.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“Then we understand each other.”
Her face hardened.
Only slightly.
Theo came closer.
“Grandma, can we go later?”
Charlotte looked down at him.
And then she said the sentence that erased any remaining hesitation I had about setting boundaries.
“Sweetheart, remember what Grandma told you about grown-up conversations?”
Theo’s entire body changed.
His shoulders tightened.
He looked at me.
I stepped between them.
“That’s enough.”
Charlotte blinked.
“What?”
“Whatever private conversations you’ve had with Theo stop now.”
Her face drained.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Caroline—”
“Do not ask my son to keep adult secrets.”
She stared at me.
For one dangerous second, I thought I had revealed too much.
Then I smiled.
“He came home worried after one of your talks. I don’t care what it was about. It stops.”
Charlotte exhaled.
Relief.
She thought I was talking generally.
“Children misunderstand.”
“Then adults need to speak more carefully.”
She looked toward Theo.
I moved slightly so she couldn’t.
“I’ll call you later.”
Charlotte left.
Theo watched the door close.
“Are you mad at Grandma?”
“I’m setting a rule.”
“Because I told?”
“No.”
I knelt.
“Adults are responsible for adult choices. Remember?”
He nodded.
“Say it.”
He whispered, “Adults are responsible for adult choices.”
“Exactly.”
That afternoon, while Theo built a blanket fort, I opened an old storage box in our home office.
I was looking for tax records.
Instead, I found a blue folder.
Inside were printed property listings.
Four houses.
All in our neighborhood.
All between two and three million dollars.
I almost dismissed them until I saw handwriting.
Solomon’s.
Too expensive unless D transfers Hawthorne.
Another page.
Jennifer prefers current house anyway.
Another.
Mom thinks Daniel will eventually sign it over once Theo is older.
Mom.
Charlotte.
My hands went numb.
Then I found the page that changed everything.
At the top, Solomon had written:
Five-year plan.
Underneath:
Caroline transition.
JR move after dust settles.
Hawthorne becomes primary residence.
I stared at the words.
There was no explicit crime.
No forged deed.
No elaborate scheme.
Something colder.
Entitlement.
Solomon had been planning an imaginary future in which my father’s generosity became his property, Jennifer replaced me, and Charlotte apparently believed the transfer was inevitable.
At the bottom of the page was one final note.
Written in Jennifer’s handwriting.
You promised this house would be ours.
I closed the folder.
For months I had believed Jennifer was helping Solomon steal my marriage.
May you like
Now I realized Solomon had sold Jennifer a lie too.
He had promised her a house that had never belonged to him.
