Chapter 9: Settled

I read it four times.

Malloy, settled, 200.

The date in the margin was the Thursday after my father's funeral.

I remembered that Thursday.

My mother had come home from the funeral home on Passyunk with an envelope in her purse and her mascara fixed.

She'd ordered pizza for the first time in a month.

"Riley?" Domenic said from the bed.

I turned around with the ledger open in my hands.

He saw the page.

I watched it reach him.

His face didn't change, but his hand closed slowly on the sheet.

"What is this?" I said.

Nobody answered.

The lawyer looked at his shoes.

Angelo came off the wall.

"Domenic," he said. "What is that?"

"Two hundred thousand dollars," Domenic said quietly. "Cash. To Donna. Eight years ago."

"For what?"

He closed his yellow eyes.

"Ask her," he said. "She should be the one to tell you. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow. Everything. I swear it on my mother."

I stood there holding the book.

Every part of me wanted to throw it at him.

Then I thought about Paulie on the cellar stairs, whistling.

I took a good pen from the wooden box.

I walked back to the bed tray and signed my name on the line.

Riley Malloy, Trustee.

"Not for you," I said.

"I know," Domenic said.

I took a picture of the ledger page with my phone and went to my room and locked the door.

I didn't sleep.

At noon I texted my mother.

Where are you?

Working. Unlike some people.

She was doing an open house the morning after her wedding.

Of course she was.

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