He Sent Every Dollar, So Why Was My Daughter Starving? novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The Settlement

Lowell's lawyer brings a marriage settlement with an adoption clause; the credit union says her account was closed by her own signature, witnessed by Tanya.

The lawyer arrived at nine sharp, carrying a leather folder and a paper sack of groceries.

"Mr. Bissell asked me to leave these," he said, and set the sack on my counter.

Bread, eggs, milk, a whole chicken, a box of oatmeal cookies with a bow on the lid.

Maisy stood in the kitchen doorway in her pajamas and stared at the cookies.

I had not given her breakfast yet, because there was nothing to give.

"Go ahead," I said, and she took one with both hands.

The lawyer waited until she had left the room.

Then he opened the folder and turned it toward me.

"Mr. Bissell is prepared to be very generous," he said. "A marriage settlement, signed this week."

I read the first page.

Lowell Bissell would pay off my rent and my debts.

He would put six thousand dollars a month into an account in my name, and Maisy would have a trust for school.

"What do I have to do?" I asked.

"Marry him by the first of the month. Live at his house. That's all."

"That's all?"

He flipped to page four.

"Mr. Bissell has also requested a standard adoption. He wishes Maisy to carry his name."

My stomach turned over.

"She has a father," I said.

"Who has been absent for two years, according to Mrs. Birch." He said it gently, like a doctor. "The court looks kindly on a stable home."

"Mrs. Birch is Tanya?"

"Miss Birch, my apologies. She has been a great help to Mr. Bissell."

I looked at the page again.

A great help.

"The offer holds until Friday at five," the lawyer said. "After that, I am afraid Mr. Bissell has other obligations."

He left the folder on the counter.

I did not touch it.

Through the window I saw a gray truck idling at the curb.

Lowell Bissell sat behind the wheel with his hat in his lap.

When he saw me look, he lifted two fingers off the wheel and nodded, then drove away without coming to the door.

He had not pushed once.

That was the part I could not stop thinking about.

I took Maisy to preschool at ten, kissed her forehead, and walked the six blocks to the Calder Falls Credit Union with my hands in my pockets.

Kurt had said to check the account myself.

I had not wanted to.

If I was wrong, I would be the woman who divorced a good man over a rumor.

If I was right, I would have to look at my whole life.

The branch manager sat me down in a glass office and typed for a long time.

Her face changed as she read.

"Mrs. Gleason, I can't find an active account in your name," she said.

"Our joint checking. It's been open for five years."

"It's closed." She turned the screen toward me. "It was closed fourteen months ago."

The room tilted.

"I didn't close it."

"There's a signed closure form." She clicked, and a scanned page came up.

My name was printed on the line.

Under it was a signature.

It looked like mine.

The loop on the S was mine, and so was the slant of the M.

I leaned in.

The date in the corner was March ninth.

"I wasn't here on March ninth," I said. "My daughter was in the hospital with pneumonia. I was in a chair beside her bed for six days."

"The form was submitted in person," the manager said slowly.

"That's impossible."

"There's a witness signature."

She scrolled down to the bottom of the page.

I read the name there once, and then I read it again to make sure.

Tanya Birch.

My best friend of twenty years had stood in this lobby while I held my sick child's hand, and she had signed that I was there.

"Where did the money go?" My voice came out thin. "My husband sent it every month. Where did it go?"

The manager hesitated.

"I'd need to pull the transfer history. That requires the account holder, or a court order."

"I'm the account holder."

"Not of this one, I'm afraid." She tapped a line at the bottom. "After the closure, his deposits were redirected to a new savings account. It was opened the same day."

"In whose name?"

She looked at me for a long moment.

"In yours, Mrs. Gleason," she said. "And the online login was set up from a computer inside this branch."

I stood up so fast my chair hit the glass.

"Who works at this branch?"

The manager did not answer, because she did not have to.

Through the glass wall, at the third teller window, Tanya looked up and saw me.

She smiled and waved.

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