Chapter 13 - CYNTHIA VISITS THE BAKERY
She violated common sense before she violated any order.
The temporary protective order covered Ivan, not Cynthia.
She came into Juniper Table at 8:15 on a Wednesday.
Floral blouse.
Pearls.
Always pearls.
Kayla called me from the kitchen.
“Your mother-in-law is here.”
“Tell her to leave.”
Cynthia heard.
“I want five minutes.”
I stepped into the front.
My hand was bandaged.
She looked at it.
No apology.
“Megan, this has gone far enough.”
“What has?”
“You’re destroying Ivan.”
“He burned my hand.”
“He lost his temper.”
“He held my skin against metal.”
She looked around at my employees.
“Do we need an audience?”
I laughed.
“Yes.”
That surprised her.
“Why are you here?”
“To tell you the bank situation is fixable.”
There.
“Not your son?”
“The business employs families.”
“So I should mortgage my house.”
“You married him.”
“That is not a mortgage instrument.”
Her expression sharpened.
“That house increased in value because Ivan rebuilt half of it.”
“He can make a marital-property claim in divorce.”
“I’m talking about right.”
“So am I.”
Cynthia lowered her voice.
“If Parker Outdoor collapses, dozens of people suffer because you decided to punish him.”
There.
Moral transfer.
His debt becomes my cruelty.
“What do you want?”
“Sign the collateral agreement. We refinance. Then handle your marriage however you like.”
I stared.
She still thought there was a deal.
After the grill.
After police.
After my hand.
Sign Monday.
Sign later.
Sign because consequences are expensive.
“No.”
Cynthia’s face became almost peaceful.
“You’ll regret making this emotional.”
I picked up the bakery phone.
“I’m calling police if you don’t leave.”
She did.
Before stepping outside, she looked at my bandage.
Then said:
“You always were dramatic about pain.”
Kayla heard.
May you like
So did Martin.
For once, I did not need a recording.
