At noon, flowers arrived.
No card at first.
Then I found the envelope tucked beneath the ribbon.
Grant.
I’m sorry. I know flowers are not enough. I don’t know what is enough yet.
I put them in water.
That was all.
At three, someone knocked.
Diane.
I almost did not open the door.
Then I saw her through the glass.
No Paige.
No Grant.
Just Diane holding a folder.
I opened the door but did not step aside.
“Happy Mother’s Day.”
Her voice trembled.
“Thank you.”
“I won’t stay.”
She held out the folder.
“What is this?”
“Every spa visit Paige booked for me.”
“I printed my calendar.”
“Texts.”
“Receipts.”
“Everything I have.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because I thought she was paying.”
My anger shifted.
Diane swallowed.
“She told me the membership came through her consulting work with Northstar.”
“She said spouses and parents could use certain benefits.”
“I never saw your name on anything.”
I opened the folder.
Texts from Paige.
Use the account. It’s included.
Don’t worry about billing. Northstar covers wellness benefits.
Mom, book the overnight suite. It’s part of my package.
My throat tightened.
Diane continued.
“When Valerie called yesterday asking whether I had spoken directly with you about authorization, I realized I hadn’t.”
“I should have asked.”
“Yes.”
“I should have.”
She looked ashamed.
“I’m sorry.”
I studied her.
“Did you know Paige was billing the same treatments again through consulting reimbursements?”
“No.”
“Did you know about the restructuring draft?”
Diane’s face changed.
“What restructuring?”
That appeared genuine.
I believed it cautiously.
“She was expecting me to sign away voting control this weekend.”
Diane went pale.
“No.”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
She closed her eyes.
“God.”
I waited.
Then:
“Marian, I know my daughter.”
I said nothing.
“She can be ambitious.”
“She can become defensive when she thinks people look down on her.”
“She hates feeling dependent.”
“But this…”
Diane looked toward the folder.
“I don’t know this.”
I asked:
“Did she tell you why she brought me to Juniper House?”
