The next afternoon, my office telephone rang while I was reviewing the bank's preliminary findings.
I was still thinking about the two transactions.
Seven thousand five hundred dollars.
Three thousand two hundred dollars.
I had written both amounts on a sheet of paper beside my keyboard.
Every time I looked at them, I remembered another time I'd handed David money without asking many questions.
That was part of what made the situation so painful.
I had helped him willingly.
More times than I could count.
And now I was trying to establish whether money had been moved without my consent.
I picked up the telephone.
It was guest relations.
“Ms. Morrison, Mrs. Patterson is here. She's asking to see you privately.”
I looked toward Elizabeth.
She was seated across from me, working through documents.
I took a breath.
“Send her in.”
Elizabeth looked up.
“Lilia?”
I nodded.
“She wants to talk.”
Elizabeth closed her folder.
“Would you prefer that I leave?”
I thought about it.
A few weeks earlier, I would have said yes.
I would have tried to settle things privately.
I would have worried that Lilia might feel embarrassed or offended.
But the last private confrontation had ended with her striking me.
And this time, the conversation might involve financial arrangements under review.
“Please stay,” I said.
Elizabeth nodded.
I put the bank papers inside my folder.
Then I waited.
A moment later, the door opened.
Lilia walked in wearing a white dress.
It looked expensive.
She carried a designer handbag and wore the kind of smile I had learned to distrust.
It was the smile she used when she wanted something.
“Marlene.”
I looked at her.
“Hello, Lilia.”
She glanced around the office.
Her eyes moved over the furniture.
The large windows.
The reports arranged on my desk.
Then she looked at the watch on my wrist.
I noticed.
I wished I hadn't.
“Well,” she said, “this certainly is impressive.”
I didn't answer.
She took a step forward.
“You've been difficult to find.”
“I've been working.”
She smiled.
“Yes, of course. Very important work, apparently.”
I gestured toward the chair.
“You asked to speak with me.”
She sat down.
Then she noticed Elizabeth.
Her expression changed.
“Who's that?”
“My attorney, Elizabeth Carter.”
Lilia looked at her more closely.
“Your attorney?”
Elizabeth greeted her politely.
Lilia didn't return the warmth.
She looked back at me.
“Why do you need a lawyer for a family conversation?”
I folded my hands.
“Because some financial matters are being reviewed.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh.
“Marlene, seriously?”
I waited.
“David and I have been trying to talk to you like reasonable people.”
I thought about the photograph David had sent.
The handwriting beside my signature.
The second page bearing Lilia's name.
Then I thought about the bank records.
“I've been trying to understand some documents,” I said.
Lilia shook her head.
“You've turned a small disagreement into something enormous.”
I looked at her.
“A small disagreement?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Lilia. I don't think I do.”
She leaned back.
“This whole business with the vacation. You got upset. David got upset. I got upset. Families argue.”
I watched her face.
She spoke as though the problem had been a disagreement over dinner plans.
Not a demand for fifty thousand dollars.
Not an assault.
Not a mother being told to leave the house where she had been living.
I took a breath.
“Did you take seven thousand five hundred dollars from an account connected to me?”
Her expression changed.
It happened quickly.
The smile disappeared.
“What?”
I looked at the page in front of me.
“And did you receive a payment of three thousand two hundred dollars toward your credit card?”
Lilia looked toward Elizabeth.
Then back at me.
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“That's why the records are being examined.”
She crossed her legs.
“This is ridiculous.”
I didn't answer.
“You're seriously going through old family accounts?”
“Yes.”
“After everything we've done for you?”
I felt the old anger stir.
I kept my voice steady.
“I paid my share of the household expenses.”
Lilia rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please. You lived in our home.”
“And I paid rent.”
“That's not the point.”
I looked at her.
It never seemed to be the point.
Whenever I mentioned what I had contributed, she changed the subject.
Whenever I asked a direct question, she acted offended.
I had spent years allowing that pattern to continue.
I wasn't going to do it anymore.
“Lilia, were you involved in preparing the financial authorization David sent me?”
She looked at Elizabeth again.
“What authorization?”
“The paperwork from four years ago.”
She waved a hand.
“I don't remember every piece of paper David handled.”
I watched her.
“Your name appears on the second page.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Then ask David.”
I nodded.
“I have.”
“And?”
“He hasn't explained it.”
Lilia sat straighter.
“Marlene, I think you're allowing this captain to fill your head with nonsense.”
I stared at her.
“James hasn't been involved in reviewing my accounts.”
“Then why are you suddenly acting like we're your enemies?”
I thought about the kitchen.
The slap.
The shock afterward.
The way David had looked at me while his wife demanded my money.
I had wanted him to say something.
Anything.
He hadn't.
“Do you remember hitting me?” I asked.
Lilia looked away.
“Oh, for heaven's sake.”
“Do you remember?”
She sighed.
“That was an unfortunate misunderstanding.”
I sat very still.
A misunderstanding.
I looked at Elizabeth.
She had raised her head.
Then I turned back to Lilia.
“You struck me across the face.”
“You were being difficult.”
I felt something inside me go quiet.
Not calm.
Something colder.
She wasn't denying what happened.
She was explaining why she believed it had been acceptable.
Elizabeth spoke before I could answer.
“Mrs. Patterson, physical violence is not made harmless by describing it as a misunderstanding.”
Lilia's cheeks flushed.
“I don't need a lecture.”
Elizabeth remained composed.
“I'm simply clarifying the issue.”
Lilia turned back toward me.
“Fine. I'm sorry.”
I looked at her.
She waited.
I said nothing.
“Is that what you wanted?” she asked.
I thought about the night I slept in my car.
I remembered looking at my belongings and wondering where I would go.
I remembered being sixty-two years old and frightened about the future.
Lilia's apology had come only after she discovered my position.
Only after learning I had become a partner in Morrison Maritime.
And only after I brought up the slap in front of an attorney.
I didn't know whether there was any regret behind it.
But I knew how little responsibility she had accepted.
“I'm listening,” I said.
She looked irritated.
Then she leaned forward.
“Look, Marlene. We should stop dwelling on what happened.”
I watched her.
“David and I have opportunities coming up.”
“What kind of opportunities?”
“Business opportunities.”
I glanced at Elizabeth.
Lilia continued.
“With the right investment, we could get our finances back where they should be.”
I almost laughed.
An investment.
After everything.
She had come into my office while my attorney was reviewing financial documents.
And now she wanted more money.
“How much?” I asked.
She smiled slightly.
“We can discuss the details.”
“I'm asking why you came.”
“Because we want to include you.”
I looked at her.
“Include me?”
“In the family's future.”
I felt tired.
So tired.
For years, I had wanted David and Lilia to include me in ordinary things.
A conversation.
A dinner without demands.
A call just to ask how I was doing.
But when they spoke about including me, they meant including my money.
“I'm not investing in your business plans,” I said.
Her expression hardened.
“You haven't even heard them.”
“I've heard enough to know I don't want to make financial commitments.”
“Marlene, you're doing very well now.”
“That doesn't change my answer.”
“David is your son.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you making things harder for him?”
I looked at her for a long moment.
“Lilia, you demanded fifty thousand dollars for a vacation.”
She crossed her arms.
“You keep bringing that up.”
“You hit me when I refused.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Here we go again.”
“David stood beside you.”
She looked toward the door.
“And you told me to leave the house.”
She said nothing.
“I spent that night in my car.”
Her expression flickered.
But she didn't apologize again.
I continued.
“Now you're sitting in my office asking for another financial commitment.”
She shrugged.
“That happened weeks ago. People move on.”
I stared at her.
I couldn't believe how casually she dismissed it.
Weeks ago.
As though enough days had passed to erase what she had done.
I remembered the red mark on my cheek.
The weight of my belongings.
The terrible silence from my son.
Those things hadn't disappeared because a calendar changed.
“Moving on doesn't mean pretending nothing happened,” I said.
Lilia stood.
Her chair shifted against the floor.
“So this is what becoming important has done to you.”
I remained seated.
“What do you mean?”
“You think you're better than us.”
“No.”
“You sit here with your expensive watch and your lawyer, acting as if we're beneath you.”
I looked down at my wrist.
The watch James had given me was beautiful.
But it didn't make me worth more than anyone else.
I had been just as human when I was sleeping in my car.
I had deserved respect then.
I deserved it now.
“My position has nothing to do with this,” I said.
Lilia laughed bitterly.
“Of course it doesn't.”
“I wanted you to treat me decently before I had a title.”
She looked away.
I continued.
“I wasn't asking you to admire me. I was asking you not to hurt me.”
For a second, she seemed unsure what to say.
Then she reached for her handbag.
“David was right. Morrison has turned you against your own family.”
I looked at her.
“No, Lilia. Your behavior did that.”
She headed toward the door.
I thought the conversation was over.
Then she turned.
“You're going to regret treating us this way.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
But before I could respond, Elizabeth stood.
“Mrs. Patterson, any future questions concerning Marlene's finances should be directed through my office.”
Lilia looked furious.
She stared at both of us.
Then she opened the door and left.
I watched it close.
For a while, neither Elizabeth nor I spoke.
I sat looking at the empty chair.
The white dress was gone.
The expensive handbag.
The smile.
But the room still felt unpleasant.
Elizabeth gathered her notes.
“Are you all right?”
I thought about the question.
“I don't know.”
She sat down again.
I looked at her.
“She didn't deny hitting me.”
“No.”
“She just thinks I should stop talking about it.”
Elizabeth was quiet.
I looked toward the window.
I had spent years swallowing my feelings to keep peace in the family.
Whenever Lilia was angry, I tried to make things easier.
Whenever David complained, I tried to help.
And every time I accepted their behavior, the next demand seemed larger.
I had thought that being patient would eventually make them kinder.
Instead, they had become accustomed to my silence.
That was painful to admit.
A few hours later, after Elizabeth had finished her work for the afternoon, I was still in my office.
The sun was lower now.
I had tried to review an operations report.
I kept reading the same paragraph.
There was a knock at the door.
I looked up.
“Come in.”
David stood there.
Alone.
His vacation clothes were wrinkled.
His hair looked untidy.
There were dark shadows beneath his eyes.
For a moment, I saw the boy I used to worry about.
The one who looked exhausted after a fever.
The one who came to me when something frightened him.
I felt the old instinct to stand and comfort him.
But I stayed seated.
“David.”
He looked at the chair opposite me.
“Can we talk?”
I watched him.
His wife had been in that room earlier.
She had demanded another investment.
She had blamed me for refusing.
Then she had threatened me on her way out.
Now my son was standing in the doorway.
He looked tired.
He looked unhappy.
And for the first time since he boarded the Sea Star, he had come without Lilia.
I gestured toward the chair.
“Sit down.”
He entered slowly.
Then he closed the door behind him.
I waited.
He looked at his hands.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he said, “Mom, Lilia and I are in trouble.”
I felt my chest tighten.
I knew what kind of trouble he meant.
But this time, I wasn't going to offer money before he finished explaining.
I folded my hands on the desk.
“What happened?”
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: My Son Finally Cried in My Office, but One Question About the Financial Documents Changed His Apology Into Another Argument
I Thought My Son Had Already Taken Everything From Me Until His Wife Started Making Demands Aboard My Own Cruise Ship
Part 6 of 12
