“Go ahead and open it,” Kate said.
But Janet didn’t move right away. She thought about taking the envelope back to her desk and opening it away from Kate Grossman. Or maybe just throwing it in the trash. Did she need to know anything else?
But Janet turned it over and started to slip her index finger under the sealed flap.
“Just one second,” Kate said.
Janet looked up.
“I know it’s weird, but I brought a camera with me. Would you mind if I-?”
“Yes, I’d mind.”
Janet completed the work of opening the envelope and looked inside. She didn’t see much. Just a white piece of paper. She drew it out and unfolded the sheet.
“Well?” Kate asked.
Janet didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to say. She turned the paper over. It was blank on the back. The whole thing seemed like a joke. Was it some sort of crank attempting to mess with her again?
“Oh, God, Ms. Manning,” Kate said. “Is it something awful? Did someone say something nasty to you?”
“Why did you come in here and say you had good news?” Janet asked. “Do you know what this says?”
Kate shook her head. She really did look young, like a kid who thought she might be in trouble. “I don’t know,” she said. Her shoulders sagged, and she lost the shiny, confident smile. “See, my editor thought coming and watching you open the letter personally would make a good follow-up story. I guess we were just
“Hoping?”
“Is it? Or is it something bad?”
Janet folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope. “I need to call the bank.”
“Here, use my phone.”
“I don’t know the number.”
“It’s a smartphone. I’ll look it up.”
Janet told her who to call, and within a few minutes Janet was speaking with the branch manager. She explained who she was and asked if he could tell her anything over the phone about something being opened in her name.
The manager seemed circumspect at first, reluctant to give out too much information. But Janet insisted.
“If this is some kind of sick joke, then I have to call the police,” Janet said. “Do I need to call the police?”
After a short pause, the manager said, “No, you don’t have to call the police. This isn’t a joke at all, Ms. Manning. No joke at all.”
Chapter Thirty-five
Ashleigh was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal even though it was after five o’clock in the evening, when her mom came through the back door. Her mom usually whisked through the world with breezy efficiency. She moved quickly, but always with purpose, her body and movements under her complete control. But that evening her mom seemed out of sorts when she came into the house. She dropped her keys on the kitchen floor. They fell in a rattling jumble against the linoleum. Rather than take her purse to her room, as she always did, she dropped it onto the floor as well. Her face was flushed, and Ashleigh didn’t think it was just from the heat.
“Hi, Mom.”
Janet stopped in the kitchen and leaned back against the counter by the sink. She let out a deep breath and then moved to the refrigerator, where she pulled out a bottle of wine. While it wasn’t unusual for her mom to have some wine in the evening, it was unusual for her to open a bottle before she was even ten steps in the door. She still hadn’t spoken to or looked at Ashleigh.
“Is everything okay?” Ashleigh asked.
Janet filled a glass and took a long first swallow. She came over to the table and sat across from her daughter.
“Would you believe me if I told you someone gave us ten thousand dollars today?” Janet asked.
“No.”
“I don’t believe it either, but they did.”
“Who gave you ten thousand dollars?” Ashleigh asked. She studied her mother’s face. Had she been drinking before she came home? Had the stress of the last few days driven her to say crazy, nonsensical things? Her mother’s eyes looked clear. She didn’t slur her words or seem fuzzy-headed.
“Someone created a fund at the bank in my name,” Janet said. “An anonymous donor. They set it up because they read the story in the paper about Justin, and they wanted to give us the money to move Justin’s grave next to your grandma’s.”
“An anonymous donor did this? Someone we don’t know?”
Her mother swallowed more wine. “The bank manager doesn’t even know who did it. The whole thing was set up by a lawyer or something. But the money’s there. I saw the paperwork at the bank.”
“Have you ever had that much money before?” Ashleigh asked.
“Just in my retirement account. And I can’t touch that.”
Ashleigh ignored her cereal. The Cheerios looked fat and milk swollen. “You seem pretty upset about this,” Ashleigh said. “Aren’t you happy? You said you wanted this to happen. You’ve always said that.”
Her mother didn’t speak for a long time. She finished her glass of wine, then went to the counter and poured another one. When she came back, Ashleigh studied her mom’s face again. Her mother didn’t look very old up close. She was younger than most of the other parents of the kids Ashleigh went to school with, and in the slanting late- afternoon light that came through the kitchen window, Ashleigh noticed again how pretty her mother’s eyes were. They were light blue, and the sun picked up flecks of a gold color in the irises that Ashleigh had never noticed before. Her mother never dated, but she could. No doubt about it, Ashleigh concluded: her mother could be out on the market finding a nice guy and having a little fun. And Ashleigh wished her mother would do that, would choose to have a little bit of fun. She deserved it.
“I don’t know what to make of this, Ash,” she said.
“Someone just wants to help. There are rich people who can write a check for thousands of dollars just like that.” Ashleigh snapped her fingers to demonstrate. “We don’t know any of them, but I’m sure they exist.”
“Isn’t it strange that this is happening right when this guy is here saying he’s Justin? What if the two are related?”
“You mean that guy might have given the money? No way. You didn’t see his sketchy apartment, Mom.”
“I guess I don’t trust anyone anymore,” her mom said. “I feel like there’s a trap around every corner. I feel like-”
“Like Grandpa,” Ashleigh said, her voice low. The old man was back in his room, the TV on. But she still didn’t want to risk having him hear her.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s so angry. So bitter. He thinks the world is out to get him.”
“I know.” Janet nodded, then said, “He wasn’t always like that. He could be warm and fun when I was a little kid. I can remember him laughing and playing sometimes. He’s had a rough ride.”
“No rougher than you.”
Janet smiled. She reached out and squeezed Ashleigh’s hand. “That’s sweet of you to say. But he lost a son. Maybe I can’t imagine.” Janet let go and sat up in her chair. “But you’re right. I don’t want to look at everyone like
