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Perhaps I should be polite, but with her, there’s never really any reason to be. My mother is all about propriety and politeness never gets you anywhere. We could be polite at each other all day long and never get through an actual conversation, so I might as well just be forthcoming and tell her what I want.
“Is it true that Mr. Riley took the fall for what happened between him and dad?”
In a shocking break of character, my mother jolts just the tiniest bit. I’ve surprised her with my question. That’s not easy to do. She quickly regains her composure, however, and reveals nothing on her face.
“What would make you ask a question like that?”
“I was going through some newspaper articles for a project,” I lie smoothly. “A few things didn’t add up.”
“Well, he’s dead,” my mother says. She reaches for a cup of tea she has sitting on the table between us. She sips it, but doesn’t offer to make me a cup. That’s just as well because I won’t be here very long. “So I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you now.”
“Tell me what?”
So it’s true, is it?
I suppose I should be thanking Emilia for giving me the heads up. I wish I had known long ago, but we were young and stupid and things were so different back then.
“Your father got a deal. That much is true. Riley confessed to everything and said it was all his idea and his plan. He said your father had no idea what was going on and that’s why your father received a shorter sentence.” She shook her head. “If the idiot had kept from getting killed, our lives would be very different today.”
I frown.
Why is she speaking about my father like this?
Gone is the grieving widow I remember. She certainly never said anything quite so abrupt when I was a kid, but now it almost seems like my mom isn’t sad at all about my dad’s passing.
“Why would he do that?” I ask. “Why would Mr. Riley take the fall?”
My mother laughs, but it’s a cold sort of sound.
“Again,” she says. “I hadn’t planned on telling you, but he is dead now, and he’s not coming back. Who gives a care in the world about his perfect reputation?”
She sets her tea down and stands up, smoothing her dress. She walks to a rolling desk that’s in the corner. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone use that desk and I honestly have no idea why it’s there, but she rolls the top and messes around for a minute. Then she comes back with a business card and sets it on the coffee table in front of me.
I lean forward and look at it.
“It’s dad’s card.”
There are two R’s intertwined: Reynolds and Riley. Dad and Mr. Riley had their own company for many years. They did a lot of investing and they were good at what they did. They were too good, apparently, and it got them into more trouble than it was worth.
“Two R’s,” my mother taps the card. She shakes her head. “I should have known then.”
“Known what?”
“What kind of man wants a business with his best friend?” She shakes her head. “What kind of man chooses a logo that’s so...intimate?”
My stomach turns as I try to reconcile with what she’s hinting at.
Is she trying to tell me that they weren’t just close?
“What are you saying?” I ask.
My mother sits back and closes her eyes. She shakes her head, and all of a sudden, she seems so very...old. She just seems old: old and tired. I know that she’s been through a lot, but I never really noticed it wearing on her until now.
Now I just feel bad for her.
Now I want to know what she’s going to tell me and I wish that this visit would just be over.
“I had my suspicions for many years, but it wasn’t until that last year they were finally confirmed. His wife, Marcia, had come over for tea.”
