Chapter 17 - Diane’s Apartment
Diane invited me for coffee.
Her apartment was smaller than the condo she sold.
Still nice.
Two bedrooms.
Balcony.
Plants.
No ranch house.
She poured coffee into china cups that had belonged to her mother.
“I was embarrassed for you to see this.”
“Why?”
“It feels like going backward.”
“It looks comfortable.”
She stared.
“You always say the thing I don’t expect.”
“I’m less tired now.”
She smiled.
Then:
“I blamed you.”
“For what?”
“Selling condo.”
“I didn’t make you.”
“I know.”
“Melissa’s debt did.”
“And my decision to cosign.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“I thought because Walter had millions, consequences should disappear.”
I said nothing.
“That is an ugly thing to admit.”
“It is.”
She laughed.
“Thank you.”
“You didn’t invite me for comfort.”
“No.”
She showed me a folder.
Her finances.
Not because I wanted.
“I’m done cosigning.”
“Good.”
“I made Melissa sign a written repayment agreement for what she can afford.”
“Good.”
“I have emergency fund.”
“Good.”
“Stop saying good.”
I laughed.
Then she asked:
“Did Walter leave you enough?”
I looked at her.
She immediately closed eyes.
“Sorry.”
“That is the habit.”
“Yes.”
I could have told her number.
I did not.
She did not need it.
“I’m okay.”
“That’s enough.”
There.
Progress.
Before I left, Diane said:
“Mark was always the fixer because I made him one.”
“How?”
“His father left when Melissa was a baby. Mark was twenty four and acted like he became man of house.”
“He did.”
“I let him pay bills he couldn’t afford.”
“Why?”
“I was scared.”
She looked toward window.
“Then he married you and I kept treating him like my husband’s replacement instead of my son.”
That explained something.
Not excuse.
Mark’s identity as rescuer began before me.
I had benefited from it.
Then it turned.
Diane whispered:
“I’m sorry I let him believe everybody else’s emergencies were his job.”
I nodded.
“Tell him.”
“I have.”
Good.
We finished coffee.
I did not become close to Diane again.
May you like
But I stopped avoiding her at mutual family events.
That was enough.
