Chapter 2: The Signature That Wasn't Mine
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I looked at the paper again.
Then at my wife.
"What did she mean?""
Vanessa folded her arms.
"Your mother is confused. She's been under a lot of stress.""
I placed the folder on the dining table.
"Explain this.""
She glanced at the remaining guests.
"Can we talk privately?""
"No. You've had three weeks to talk privately. Now you're going to explain.""
Rachel returned from the foyer.
"Vanessa, what's happening?""
I pointed toward the front door.
"Your sister needs to leave.""
Rachel scoffed.
"Excuse me?""
"You're not part of this conversation.""
Vanessa immediately stepped in.
"Don't speak to my family like that.""
I laughed once, without humor.
"Your family? Vanessa, I'm trying to understand why my mother's medical paperwork was hidden beneath a false drawer.""
My mother stood near the kitchen entrance, gripping the edge of the counter.
I walked over and pulled out a chair.
"Mom, sit down.""
She lowered herself carefully.
I noticed how slowly she moved.
"Does anything hurt?""
"My back. A little.""
"Have you been taking your medication?""
She looked at Vanessa.
That single glance answered more questions than I wanted answered.
I turned toward my wife.
"Where are her medications?""
"Upstairs.""
"Which ones?""
Vanessa sighed.
"Marcus, I am not going to stand here while you interrogate me.""
"Then answer one question. What treatment did Mom miss?""
She picked up her wineglass, realized it was empty, and put it down again.
"The doctor recommended some additional procedures.""
"What procedures?""
"I don't remember the exact names.""
"You took her to the appointment.""
"I had other things going on.""
"Then why did you sign the refusal?""
Her expression changed.
"I didn't refuse anything.""
I held up the document.
"Read it.""
She didn't move.
I read the sentence aloud.
"'I acknowledge that the patient has declined the recommended treatment and understands the consequences of delaying further care.''"
My mother began crying.
"Marcus, please.""
I knelt beside her.
"Mom, look at me. Did you decline treatment?""
She shook her head.
"No, sweetheart.""
"Did you tell Vanessa you didn't want treatment?""
"No.""
"Then what happened?""
She pressed her fingers together.
"The doctor said they needed to do more tests. He explained that the condition might be serious. Vanessa told me not to worry because you had already discussed everything with her.""
I felt something tighten in my chest.
"What did she say I agreed to?""
My mother swallowed.
"She said you didn't want me going through expensive procedures when I was already old.""
The room seemed to tilt.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Did you tell my mother that?""
"That's not how I said it.""
"Then how did you say it?""
Vanessa rubbed her forehead.
"I said we needed to consider the financial implications.""
I stared at her.
"My company paid for your new SUV last month.""
"That's different.""
"We paid for the renovation of your sister's kitchen.""
"Marcus, stop bringing up money.""
"We spent eleven thousand dollars on your family's vacation last summer.""
She raised her voice.
"Because I wanted to enjoy something for once! Is that a crime?""
I looked at my mother.
She was sitting in a chair with her hands folded in her lap.
A woman who had worked two jobs to put me through college was now apologizing with her eyes for the medical expenses associated with keeping herself alive.
I couldn't stand it.
"Mom, did you think I didn't want you treated?""
She nodded faintly.
"Vanessa said you were under pressure at work.""
I closed my eyes.
For years, my mother had sacrificed everything to protect me from financial hardship.
She had sold her wedding jewelry to pay my college tuition.
She had worked overnight shifts at a nursing home and cleaned offices during the day.
When I got my first corporate job, she refused to accept money from me.
"You need to build your own life, Marcus," she always said.
And now someone had convinced her that receiving medical care was an inconvenience to her son.
I stood up.
"Vanessa, we're calling the hospital.""
She shook her head.
"There's no reason.""
"That's not your decision.""
"Marcus, the appointment was weeks ago. We can't change what happened.""
"We can find out what happened.""
I reached for my phone.
She suddenly grabbed the folder.
I caught the other side.
"Let go.""
"You're making a mistake.""
"No. I'm trying to correct one.""
She released it.
My phone rang before I could dial.
The caller ID displayed an unfamiliar number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
"Is this Marcus Carter?""
"Yes.""
"My name is Daniel Brooks. I'm a patient coordinator at St. Mary's Medical Center. I'm calling regarding Evelyn Carter.""
I looked at my mother.
"She's here with me.""
"Good. I've been trying to reach her for several days.""
My wife went completely still.
I noticed.
"What's the problem?"" I asked.
The coordinator paused.
"Mr. Carter, your mother was scheduled for a consultation and follow-up treatment. Our records indicate that the appointment was canceled by an authorized representative.""
"Who?""
"Mrs. Vanessa Carter.""
I looked directly at my wife.
"Was there another appointment?""
"Yes. The doctor requested that we contact the family urgently because the test results required additional evaluation.""
"How urgent?""
Another pause.
"Mr. Carter, I don't want to alarm you over the phone, but your mother should be seen as soon as possible.""
I gripped the phone.
"Can we bring her in tomorrow?""
"I would recommend coming tonight if possible. The physician is available.""
I thanked him and ended the call.
My mother was crying openly now.
Vanessa looked furious.
"That was unnecessary.""
I turned toward her.
"Unnecessary?""
"You've made me look like a monster.""
I stared at her.
"You canceled my mother's appointment.""
"Because she was panicking, and I was trying to keep everything calm!""
"By hiding her hospital letters?""
"I was going to explain.""
"When?""
She raised her voice.
"When you stopped treating me like I was some stranger in this family!""
I took a step closer.
"Then stop behaving like one.""
Her eyes widened.
Rachel suddenly spoke.
"Marcus, maybe you should hear Vanessa out. She has done a lot for your mother.""
I turned.
"What exactly has she done?""
Rachel shrugged.
"She kept the house running. She cooked. She handled appointments. She took care of everything while you were away.""
I looked at the apron lying on the dining table.
"Is that what you call taking care of someone?""
Rachel's mouth tightened.
"Your mother doesn't exactly have a job. Helping around the house gives her something to do.""
My mother flinched.
I walked toward Rachel.
"Get out.""
This time, nobody argued.
Within minutes, the dining room emptied.
The music was turned off.
The wineglasses remained on the table.
The dinner plates were untouched.
And for the first time since I had walked through the door, I could hear my mother's breathing.
I took her upstairs and helped her change into comfortable clothes.
When I returned to the bedroom, Vanessa was standing beside my suitcase.
"We need to talk," she said.
"Not now.""
"Yes, now. You're making decisions without understanding what I've been dealing with.""
I looked at her.
"Tell me.""
She crossed her arms.
"Your mother has been difficult. She questions everything. She doesn't like my cooking.
She complains about the temperature. She acts like I owe her something because she raised you.""
I stared at her.
"My mother never asked you to owe her anything.""
"Exactly. She doesn't have to say it. Everyone knows I'm expected to serve her.""
I shook my head.
"She's sick, Vanessa.""
"And I'm your wife!""
The words echoed through the bedroom.
She wiped beneath her eyes.
"I gave up things for this marriage. I wanted to have a normal life. But every time I ask for something, your mother comes first.""
I looked at her for a long moment.
"Did you cancel her treatment because you were angry with her?""
She looked away.
"That's not what happened.""
"Then what happened?""
She didn't answer.
I walked toward the door.
"Marcus?""
I stopped.
"There's something else," she said.
Her voice had changed.
"Your mother isn't the only person whose name is on those hospital documents.""
I turned around.
Vanessa was staring at me.
"There's a financial authorization, too.""
My stomach tightened.
"What financial authorization?""
She swallowed.
"The hospital asked for a deposit. I used the account you gave me access to.""
I frowned.
"Which account?""
She looked at the floor.
"The joint investment account.""
I immediately took out my phone.
I opened the banking application.
The balance appeared.
My heart stopped.
The account that had held nearly $186,000 three weeks earlier now showed less than $9,000.
I looked at my wife.
"Where is the money?""
May you like
She whispered four words.
"I had to protect us.""
