Chapter 2 – The Signature That Changed Everything

“The university authorization,” Marcus said.

Evelyn didn’t answer.

He turned the paper sideways and pointed to the bottom margin.

“There’s a blue mark beneath my name. The printer jammed when I signed the original.”

Katie leaned forward.

“What university authorization?”

Marcus looked at her.

“Two years ago, you asked whether I could help you transfer into an early childhood education program. I signed permission for Evelyn to coordinate the paperwork because I was going to be out of town.”

Katie frowned.

“I never asked you.”

“You sent an email.”

“No, Dad. I didn’t.”

Evelyn finally spoke.

“She contacted me. I passed along the request.”

Marcus looked at her.

“And you passed along this signature?”

“It was an administrative convenience.”

“On a document saying my daughter can’t call me Dad?”

“Marcus, you’re acting like I had her sign away an inheritance.”

“Did you?”

The question hung between them.

Evelyn’s expression tightened.

“No.”

Marcus placed the paper beside Katie’s check.

“Then we start with what you did do.”

He pulled out the chair next to Katie and sat.

“Sweetheart, when did Evelyn give you this agreement?”

“Last spring.”

“Before or after you sold your car?”

“Before.”

“Did she tell you to sell it?”

Katie hesitated.

“She said I’d fallen behind and needed to take responsibility.”

Marcus closed his eyes for a moment.

“What were you paying each month?”

“Usually eight hundred. Sometimes more, if I picked up extra hours.”

I knew what daycare workers earned in Chicago. My younger sister had spent two years working in one.

Eight hundred dollars wasn’t spare money.

It was groceries, heat, transportation, and the difference between sleeping peacefully and staring at the ceiling until morning.

Marcus seemed to understand that too.

“How were you getting to work after you sold the car?”

“The bus.”

“You live almost an hour away.”

“An hour and twenty minutes, usually.”

He stared at her.

Katie tried to smile.

“I listened to audiobooks. It wasn’t terrible.”

The lie was so gentle that it hurt.

Marcus asked whether she’d been eating properly.

Katie’s cheeks colored.

“Dad, please. I’m twenty-four.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Neither is asking me questions like I’m eleven.”

He stopped.

The room became uncomfortable for a different reason.

For all his tenderness, Marcus was still accustomed to solving problems by taking control.

Katie had been living with her troubles long enough to resent being treated like a child.

“You’re right,” he said finally. “I’m sorry.”

She looked surprised.

“I don’t need you to fix every part of my life.”

“I know.”

“I just needed to know I still had a place in yours.”

He nodded slowly.

“You do.”

Evelyn gave a short, impatient breath.

“Wonderful. We’ve established that. Can we please discuss this privately? The guests will arrive in less than an hour.”

Marcus ignored her.

“Katie, did you keep your payment receipts?”

“Every one.”

“Where?”

“At home. In a shoebox.”

“Good. Don’t throw them away.”

Evelyn moved toward the table.

“Those receipts are private.”

Marcus looked up.

“They concern money taken from my daughter. I think we’re past privacy.”

Evelyn’s voice sharpened.

“You’re humiliating me in front of your housemaid.”

It was such an astonishing complaint that I nearly answered.

But Katie spoke first.

“You made me stand outside the gate on your birthday because you said Marcus didn’t want me inside.”

I turned toward her.

Marcus’s expression changed.

“What?”

Katie looked down.

“It was raining. I brought you a little cake from the bakery near my apartment.”

Marcus stared.

“I was home that day.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“I saw your car.”

Evelyn looked toward the fireplace.

Katie continued.

“I told the guard I just wanted to leave the cake. Evelyn came outside and said you were having a difficult day and I shouldn’t upset you.”

Marcus spoke very carefully.

“Which birthday?”

“Your forty-third.”

He stood.

That birthday had been four months earlier.

I remembered it because Marcus had canceled a dinner reservation and spent the evening at home.

I also remembered Evelyn asking me to remove an untouched chocolate cake from the kitchen.

She’d said the bakery had delivered the wrong order.

Suddenly I understood.

“Mr. DeLuca,” I said, “there was a cake in the kitchen that evening.”

He turned.

“A small one?”

“Yes. Chocolate, with blue writing. I didn’t see what it said.”

Katie pressed her fingers against her lips.

“It said, ‘Still your girl.’”

I felt my throat close.

Marcus looked at Evelyn.

“You told me the bakery made a mistake.”

“It was inappropriate timing.”

“For what?”

“You’d been meeting with your attorneys all afternoon. You were exhausted.”

“And you decided my daughter shouldn’t see me?”

Evelyn looked exhausted herself now.

“Marcus, she would have stayed all night if you’d let her. She always does that. She comes here and suddenly nothing else matters.”

Katie stood abruptly.

“I should go.”

Marcus turned to her.

“No.”

“Please don’t make this worse.”

“You haven’t made anything worse.”

Katie reached for her purse.

I stepped closer.

“Miss Katie, your coat is in the hall. I’ll get it.”

She nodded gratefully.

I was halfway to the doorway when Marcus spoke.

“Lauren.”

I stopped.

“Don’t let anybody stop her from leaving if that’s what she wants. But please ask whether she’ll take a few minutes with me first.”

It was the first time I’d heard Marcus offer his daughter a choice instead of an instruction.

Katie looked at him.

After a long moment, she sat down again.

Evelyn checked the clock.

“Marcus, we have thirty people coming.”

“Then you’d better decide whether you want them to see us like this.”

She stared at him.

He added, “The engagement dinner is canceled.”

Evelyn went pale.

“You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

She walked toward the door without another word.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then Katie said quietly, “Dad, there’s something else.”

Marcus turned back.

She took a folded envelope from behind the birthday card in her purse.

“I wrote you a letter last year. I tried to give it to Evelyn.”

“What happened?”

“She returned it.”

“Why?”

Katie looked at him with the saddest expression I’d ever seen.

“She said you’d already read it. And that your answer was no.”

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