Chapter 2: The Call Tara Didn't Want Me to Make
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen. Somewhere outside, a lawn mower rattled along a neighboring street.
I stared at my daughter.
"What do you mean, Grandma told you this might happen?""
Molly twisted the sleeve of her sweatshirt around her fingers.
"Please call her first.""
Tara stepped into the hallway.
"Scott, this is ridiculous. Jean isn't here. She doesn't know what happened in our house.""
"Then a phone call shouldn't hurt anything," I said.
Tara's eyes narrowed.
"You're going to encourage Molly to drag her grandmother into this? That's exactly how she avoids taking responsibility.""
Molly shook her head.
"I'm not trying to avoid anything.""
"Then explain the money.""
"I already told you!""
Tara pointed toward the dining table.
"Three hundred dollars doesn't belong in a twelve-year-old's backpack unless she put it there.""
Molly's face crumpled.
"Stop saying that!""
Her voice cracked so sharply that Tara fell silent.
I'd heard Molly cry plenty of times. When she scraped her knee. When she missed her mother. When a classmate said something cruel at school.
But I rarely heard her shout.
She looked at me, breathing quickly.
"Dad, please.""
I took out my phone.
Tara folded her arms.
"Fine. Call Jean. But when she tells you she didn't give Molly that much money, I don't want another excuse.""
I scrolled to Jean's contact.
My thumb hovered over the call button.
Something about Tara's certainty bothered me. Not because I thought she was lying, necessarily, but because she seemed determined to end the conversation before I had gathered the facts.
I pressed the button.
Jean answered on the fourth ring.
"Scott? Is everything all right?""
Her voice was warm and familiar.
"No, Mom. I'm afraid something's happened. I need to ask you about Molly.""
A brief silence followed.
"Is Molly safe?""
I glanced at my daughter.
"She's home. Why do you ask?""
Jean exhaled.
"Did Tara find the money?""
The question made my skin prickle.
Across the hallway, Tara stopped moving.
I gripped the phone more tightly.
"What money?""
Jean didn't answer immediately.
Then she said, "Scott, put me on speaker.""
I did.
Jean's voice filled the hallway.
"Is Tara there?""
"I'm right here," Tara replied sharply.
"And if you've been giving Molly money behind my back, perhaps you'd like to explain that before you accuse anyone.""
"I'm not accusing anyone," Jean said.
"I'm asking Scott to listen.""
"Then talk.""
"Scott, about three weeks ago, Molly came to my house after school. She was upset. She asked me whether I thought a person could be a good parent in public and make someone miserable in private.""
My eyes moved toward Molly.
She stared at the carpet.
Jean continued.
"I asked her what she meant. She said she didn't want to get anyone in trouble. I didn't press her because I thought she might simply be struggling with the changes in your household.""
Tara let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"That's absurd. She visits you, tells you a dramatic story, and suddenly you think I'm mistreating her?""
"That's not what I said.""
"You implied it.""
"Please let me finish.""
Jean's voice had become firmer.
"That afternoon, I gave Molly three hundred dollars.""
Tara's expression changed.
It wasn't dramatic. Her mouth simply stopped moving, and her eyes shifted toward the table.
I looked at the money.
"Why that much?"" I asked.
"Because Molly asked me to keep it safe until she knew what she wanted to do with it.""
My heart began beating harder.
"Keep what safe?""
Jean hesitated.
"She wanted to save money for something important. I told her she could keep it with me, but she insisted on taking it home.""
Molly finally lifted her eyes.
"I told you, Dad.""
I held up a finger, asking her to wait.
"Mom, why didn't you tell me about this before?""
"Because Molly asked me not to. She said she wanted to speak with you herself when she was ready.""
Tara stepped forward.
"Convenient.""
Jean ignored her.
"Scott, I wrote down the serial numbers of the bills I gave Molly. Not because I expected trouble, but because I had withdrawn the cash from the bank that morning and was sorting it for several family gifts.""
I looked at the money again.
Four fifty-dollar bills.
Five twenties.
Exactly three hundred dollars.
"Are you saying those are the same bills?"" I asked.
"I'm saying I can check.""
"How?""
"I took a photograph of the bills before I gave them to Molly. I was preparing envelopes for the family, and I wanted to make sure I had enough cash left afterward. The photograph should still be on my phone.""
Tara reached for the table and straightened a bill that wasn't crooked.
"That doesn't prove anything," she said.
Jean's voice sharpened.
"If the serial numbers match, it proves where that money came from.""
"And what about the missing nine hundred dollars?"" Tara demanded.
"I don't know anything about nine hundred dollars," Jean replied.
"I know I gave Molly three hundred.""
Tara turned to me.
"Scott, are you really going to believe your mother-in-law over your wife?""
"She's my daughter's grandmother," I said.
"And she's answering my questions.""
"She isn't answering anything about the rest of the money.""
Jean spoke again.
"Scott, there's something else you need to know.""
The entire hallway seemed to tighten around those words.
"What is it?""
"Before Molly left my house that day, I asked her why she needed to save the money. She told me she wanted to make sure she had enough to—"
The call abruptly went silent.
I looked at the screen.
The call had disconnected.
"Mom?""
I called back.
The phone rang twice, then went to voicemail.
I tried again.
Nothing.
Tara exhaled loudly.
"Wonderful. Now we've got a mystery and a dead phone.""
Molly looked terrified.
"She wouldn't hang up on you.""
"Maybe her battery died," I said.
But I didn't believe it.
Jean always kept her phone charged. She used it to check in with Molly, coordinate her church volunteer work, and call me when she needed help carrying groceries.
I sent her a text.
Call me as soon as you can. We need to talk.
Then I turned to Molly.
"What exactly did you tell Grandma?""
She looked toward Tara.
"I can't tell you with her here.""
Tara threw her hands into the air.
"Oh, this is unbelievable. Now I'm not allowed to be present in my own house?""
"I didn't say that," Molly whispered.
"You didn't have to.""
I stepped between them.
"Tara, please go into the kitchen for a minute.""
Her face went rigid.
"You want me to leave my own daughter alone with you so you can help her invent a better story?""
"She's my daughter too, and I want to hear what she's saying without an argument.""
"Then perhaps you should remember that I'm the person who found the stolen money.""
She snatched her phone off the table and walked into the kitchen.
A cupboard slammed.
I waited until I could no longer see her.
Then I crouched in front of Molly.
"Okay, sweetheart. Tell me what happened.""
Molly swallowed.
"Three weeks ago, I was looking for my science folder in your bedroom.""
"Why were you in our bedroom?""
"Because Tara told me to get the spare phone charger from your nightstand.""
I remembered the charger. Tara had complained about it being missing around that time.
"Go on.""
Molly rubbed her palms against her jeans.
"I opened the drawer because I thought my folder might have fallen behind it. I saw an envelope with a lot of money inside.""
"Was it Tara's envelope?""
"I don't know. It didn't have a name on it.""
"Did you touch it?""
"No. I closed the drawer.""
She took a shaky breath.
"Then I heard Tara talking on the phone.""
I waited.
"What was she saying?""
Molly looked toward the kitchen again.
"I couldn't hear everything. But she said she'd found a way to make you stop asking questions.""
My stomach tightened.
"What questions?""
"About the money.""
"What money, Molly?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know how much. But she said something about nine hundred dollars, and she said you wouldn't find out until it was too late.""
I stared at her.
The missing money had suddenly become something else.
"Did she know you were listening?""
"I don't think so.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
Molly's eyes filled again.
"Because when I tried to tell you something was wrong, she said I was making things up because I didn't want her to be part of our family.""
I couldn't find an answer.
She continued, her voice barely audible.
"She told me that if I made trouble, she'd tell you I was stealing things. She said you would have to decide whether you wanted a dishonest daughter living in your house.""
A cold sensation spread through my chest.
"Has she said that before?""
Molly nodded.
"More than once.""
I wanted to ask a hundred questions.
Instead, I pulled her into my arms.
She held on to me so tightly that I could feel her fingers pressing through my shirt.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
She shook her head against my shoulder.
"I didn't want you to fight with her.""
"You don't have to protect me from an argument.""
"But if you believe her, I'll have nowhere to go.""
I drew back and looked at her.
"You're not being sent anywhere tonight.""
From the kitchen came the sound of running water.
Then Tara's voice.
"Scott? We need to discuss what happens next.""
I stood up slowly.
"Give me a minute.""
Molly caught my hand.
"There's one more thing.""
I looked down at her.
"What?""
"Yesterday, when I came home from school, my backpack was already open. I thought Cole had been looking for his headphones.""
My mouth went dry.
"Why would Cole look in your backpack?""
"He said he was looking for a pencil.""
"And you think he put the money there?""
"I don't know."" She wiped her face.
"But he wasn't the only person who touched my bag.""
"Who else?""
Molly's eyes shifted toward the kitchen doorway.
"Tara took it upstairs this morning.""
Before I could respond, my phone vibrated.
A message from Jean appeared on the screen.
Scott, don't confront Tara yet. I found something in my records, and I need to tell you in person.
May you like
A second message followed.
The $1,200 was never supposed to be in Tara's bedroom.
