Chapter 12: Yes, I Did It

The workshop door was unlocked.

Clifford sat at his bench in a wool cardigan with the lamp on, bent over the same clock movement.

He had put it back together since I'd last seen it.

The pendulum hung from its hook, still.

He didn't turn around.

"Two of you," he said. "I wondered how long it would take."

Meredith stopped just inside the door.

"Grandpa."

"Come in. Shut it. The draft."

She shut it.

I stood beside her, with my hands at my sides and my pulse loud in my ears.

"You told me a month ago that Floyd went to your lawyer for money," Meredith said. "Is that true?"

Clifford set down his screwdriver.

"No," he said.

I heard her breathe in.

"You told Floyd to sign the divorce," she said. "At the table, in front of everyone."

"Yes."

"He signed because you said you'd make it right."

"Yes."

"The form with his name on it. The disbursement. Where did it come from?"

Clifford turned his stool around slowly.

He looked old, and he looked tired. He also looked relieved, which was the part I couldn't take.

"The September lease," he said, looking at me. "I had my own lawyer lift your signature. It's a simple thing."

"You forged my name," I said.

"I borrowed it."

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