Chapter 2: The Question Nobody Wanted to Answer
Malcolm stood at the dining table with his jacket still on and his keys clenched in one hand.
He looked exhausted.
There were dark circles under his eyes, a thin layer of dust on his work boots, and a small cut across one knuckle from a long day repairing machinery at the warehouse.
But when he looked at Isaiah's backpack, exhaustion gave way to something else.
“Sit down, Tasha.””
She stayed standing.
“I'm not one of your employees, Malcolm.””
“Then stop treating my son's needs like they're optional.””
Her mouth tightened.
Jordan appeared in the doorway, holding a new basketball calculator. Ava peeked around his shoulder.
Tasha immediately turned to them.
“Go upstairs.””
“But Mom—”
“Now, Jordan.””
The children disappeared.
Tasha waited until their footsteps faded before facing her husband again.
“You embarrassed me today,” she said.
“In front of your father. In front of the children. You made me sound like some kind of thief.””
Malcolm put both hands on the table.
“Did you buy Isaiah's supplies?””
“I told you I planned to.””
“That's not what I asked.””
“I spent money on the household!””
“And I sent that money for one specific reason.””
“You sent money to me because you trust me to manage this family.””
“I trusted you to take care of my son.””
The words hung in the room.
Tasha blinked as though he'd slapped her.
“Your son?”” she repeated.
“I've been raising him with you. I cook for him. I wash his clothes.
I take him to appointments when you're working. I do everything, and all you see is one stupid backpack.””
“Then why does he have an empty one?””
She turned toward me.
“Walter, please tell your son that children don't need to get everything they ask for.””
“I agree,” I replied.
“But a child needs notebooks to attend school.””
“You're taking his side because he's your grandson.””
“Yes.””
My answer seemed to stun her.
I stood beside Isaiah and rested my hand on his shoulder.
“I will take his side when he's being treated unfairly. I don't apologize for that.””
Malcolm pulled out a chair.
“Tasha, show me the account where the money went.””
She stared at him.
“What?””
“The account. I transferred the money three weeks ago. Show me the transaction history.””
“You want to inspect my bank account now?””
“I want to know what happened to money I sent for my child.””
“Your child lives in this house! There's no separate account for every person here.””
“Then explain the charges.””
She laughed, but it sounded strained.
“You know what? I'm done. I have spent years making sure this house runs smoothly, and now you're treating me like I'm on trial.””
She picked up her phone and started toward the stairs.
Malcolm moved in front of her.
“Please don't walk away from me.””
“Move.””
“Not until we finish this conversation.””
“Move, Malcolm.””
He stepped aside.
She stormed upstairs, slamming the bedroom door hard enough to rattle the framed picture in the hallway.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Isaiah whispered, “Dad?””
Malcolm turned around.
His expression changed the instant he looked at his son.
“Hey, buddy.””
“Are you mad at me?””
Malcolm crossed the room and knelt in front of him.
“No. Never.””
“Because Grandpa called you?””
“No.””
“Because I didn't have school stuff?””
Malcolm looked as if someone had taken the air from his lungs.
“Isaiah, listen to me. If you need something for school, you tell me. You don't have to wait until someone notices.””
Isaiah studied his father's face.
“But Tasha said you were saving money.””
Malcolm went still.
“What did she say?””
Isaiah immediately looked at the floor.
“Nothing.””
“Son, you can tell me.””
He twisted the broken zipper between his fingers.
“She said the warehouse wasn't paying you enough anymore. She said I shouldn't ask for expensive things because you were already spending too much on me.””
Malcolm's face tightened.
“Did she say that when you asked for school supplies?””
Isaiah nodded.
“She said Jordan and Ava needed theirs more because they were growing faster.””
I watched Malcolm close his eyes.
He remained kneeling, one hand resting on Isaiah's knee.
After a moment, he asked, “Has she said anything else about money?””
Isaiah shook his head.
Then stopped.
It was a tiny hesitation.
Malcolm noticed it immediately.
“Isaiah?””
The boy's eyes filled, but he didn't cry.
“She said Grandma Renee left me some money, but Dad needed it more.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I gripped the back of a chair.
Renee had died four years earlier after a sudden illness. She had been twenty-nine. Isaiah was five.
Before she died, she had set up a small education account for him with help from her parents. The money wasn't enormous, but it was meant to follow him through school and, eventually, college.
Malcolm had handled the legal paperwork after Renee's death. I knew he'd contributed to the account, too.
“What money are you talking about, son?”” I asked carefully.
Isaiah swallowed.
“The money Mom left.””
Malcolm rose slowly.
“Who told you I took your mother's money?””
“I'm not saying you took it, Dad.””
“Then what do you mean?””
Isaiah looked between his father and me, visibly struggling to choose his words.
“Tasha said you borrowed it. She said it was helping the family, and I shouldn't tell anybody because it would make you feel bad.””
Malcolm took a step back.
I had known my son for forty-one years. I knew his temper, his stubbornness, and his habit of rubbing the bridge of his nose whenever he was trying not to say something he would regret.
He was doing all three.
“Dad,” he said, turning to me, “we need to talk.””
“About Renee's account?””
He nodded.
We left Isaiah in the living room with a glass of water while Malcolm and I stepped onto the back porch.
The late afternoon air carried the smell of wet soil from the flower beds. Renee had planted those flowers herself, and Malcolm had kept them alive even after her death.
For years, I had believed the house was healing.
Standing beside my son, I realized I might have mistaken silence for healing.
“I transferred five hundred dollars for school supplies,” Malcolm said.
“But that's not the only money I've sent recently.””
“How much?””
He rubbed his forehead.
“I don't know exactly. Not without checking the records.””
“Guess.””
“Dad, I send money for the mortgage, utilities, groceries, Isaiah's expenses, and the household account. I work overtime whenever they offer it. I'm gone before sunrise most mornings.””
“That still isn't an answer.””
“I know.””
He pulled out his phone.
“I'll check.””
He opened his banking application and scrolled through several transactions.
Then another.
His thumb stopped.
I leaned closer.
“What is it?””
Malcolm turned the screen toward me.
A transfer of $750.
Another for $1,200.
A third for $650.
The recipients were familiar. All had gone to the joint household account Malcolm shared with Tasha.
“What were those for?”” I asked.
“The first was supposed to cover Isaiah's dental work. The second was for a school fee and a tutoring program. The third was for his summer camp.””
“Did he go to camp?””
Malcolm stared at the screen.
“No.””
“Did he get the tutoring?””
He shook his head.
“What about the dental work?””
“He had a checkup. But I paid the dentist directly last month.””
We both looked at the phone.
The transfers were spread across four months.
Each carried a note describing a specific expense for Isaiah.
Each had been sent to Tasha.
Each was now followed by a corresponding expense that Malcolm said he had never seen completed.
He opened another transaction.
“This is strange.””
“What?””
He read the note aloud.
“‘Isaiah school enrichment deposit.’”
The amount was $1,800.
My stomach tightened.
“Did Isaiah attend an enrichment program?””
“No.””
“Did you authorize that payment?””
“I sent the money. Tasha said she'd found a private program near his school.””
“Did you ever see a receipt?””
Malcolm's silence answered me.
He tapped the transaction and scrolled through the details.
“There's something else.””
“What?””
“Two days later, someone transferred $1,500 out of the household account.””
He stared at the recipient.
It was an account number he didn't recognize.
Then he looked up at me.
“Dad, this money wasn't all for school supplies.””
He swallowed.
“I think someone has been taking money from Isaiah's education fund.””
Before I could answer, the back door opened.
Tasha stood behind us.
Her eyes moved from Malcolm's phone to my face.
“What are you looking at?””
Malcolm straightened.
“Renee's account.””
For the first time since I'd known her, Tasha looked genuinely terrified.
May you like
And then she said something that made everything worse.
“You promised me we'd never discuss that money with Walter.””
