Chapter 10: The Real Check

"No," my mother said. "It isn't."

She pushed herself higher on the pillow, and the machine beside her beeped faster.

"Mom, lie down."

"Let me talk while I can."

I put the check face up on the blanket between us.

"Tell me what happened," I said. "Start in the study."

"The morning you came. I sat at his desk with my own fountain pen and my own checkbook."

"I wrote one million dollars, in blue ink, and I signed it twice. Once on the line, once on the stub."

"I marked the back."

"I sealed it in an envelope and left it on the silver tray by the door."

"My husband came in as I was leaving."

She stopped, and her mouth worked.

"He told me he'd see it delivered. I thought he was being kind."

"And Portia carried it across the room," I said.

"He gave it to her. I saw him do it. She came over and put it in my hand with a smile."

"I opened it at the party, in front of you."

"I didn't look. I threw it, because I'd promised myself I would."

Her voice rose and cracked.

"Abby, I wanted you to take it. I wanted you to be so angry you'd take it and drive away and never come back."

I stared at her.

"You threw a check at my face to get rid of me?"

"I threw it to save you."

"From what?"

She turned her face toward the door. The hall outside was quiet.

"Twenty years ago I found a number in a ledger that didn't belong there," she whispered. "I asked my husband about it."

"He cried. He held me. He said the company was in trouble, and he'd fix it."

"He's been fixing it ever since."

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