Chapter 4: What Renee Knew
Renee laughed first.
It was a short, light sound.
Practiced.
"I'm sorry?" she said.
"Ask me what, exactly?"
"You've met my mother before," I said.
"Before Daniel introduced you."
The laugh again.
"That doesn't even make sense."
"The Hargrove fundraiser.
October, two years ago." I opened the binder to the third tab and set it on the desk.
"You're in three of the photographs.
So is she."
Daniel turned to look at Renee.
She didn't look at the photographs.
She looked at my mother.
That was the answer.
"Renee," Daniel said slowly.
"What is she talking about?"
"She's trying to ruin our wedding," Renee said.
Her voice had warmed back up, aimed entirely at Daniel now.
"Look at her.
Look at what she's doing the night before.
This is what she does."
"What do I do?" I asked.
"You make everything about yourself.
You always have." She took a step into the room.
"Daniel has talked about this for years.
How you insert yourself.
How you have to be the center of every family moment."
"I paid for the flowers," I said.
"The catering.
The venue deposit.
The rehearsal dinner.
The hotel block for the guests.
I did all of that quietly, without asking for acknowledgment, because I wanted my brother to have a good wedding." I looked at her steadily.
"I am holding a binder that shows your photograph next to my mother at a private fundraiser fourteen months before Daniel says you two met.
That is not me making things about myself.
That is me asking a question."
"Daniel." Renee put her hand on his arm.
"You know me."
He was looking at the photograph.
It was a clear shot.
A round table with eight guests.
My mother in a red blouse, laughing at something off-camera.
Renee to her left, leaning slightly toward her, one hand raised mid-gesture.
The easy posture of two people who were comfortable with each other.
"This doesn't mean anything," Renee said.
Her voice had changed again.
Less warm.
More careful.
"We were at the same event.
I barely remembered meeting her."
"You're leaning toward her," Daniel said.
"I was probably just talking."
"You told me you'd never been to a Hargrove event."
A pause.
Just a fraction too long.
"I said I didn't remember going," she said.
"That's different."
My mother stepped forward.
"This is completely irrelevant.
So they were at the same fundraiser.
Half the city goes to those events.
This proves nothing."
"The fourth tab does," I said.
My mother's head turned toward me.
Slowly.
"What's in the fourth tab," she said.
Again, not a question.
"Text messages," I said.
"Between your phone and Renee's.
Starting sixteen months ago." I looked at Daniel.
"Mom introduced her to you.
She didn't just happen to meet you at that gallery opening.
Mom arranged it."
The air in the room changed.
Daniel took one step back from Renee.
Just one.
But it was the step that mattered.
"Why," he said.
He wasn't asking me.
Renee looked at my mother.
My mother looked at the binder.
"Why would you arrange for me to meet someone?" Daniel asked her.
His voice was very controlled.
I knew that voice.
It was the voice he used when he was trying not to fall apart.
"Why would you set that up and then lie about it for over a year?"
"I wanted you to be happy," my mother said.
"That is not an answer."
"She's a good match for you.
She comes from a good family.
She has her finances in order.
I simply thought—"
"You thought you'd manage it," Daniel said.
"Like you manage everything." He looked at Renee.
"Did you know she was my mother when you agreed to this?"
Renee was quiet for three seconds.
"Yes," she said.
The word landed like something dropped from height.
Daniel sat down on the edge of the bed.
Among the shredded fabric.
He sat there and looked at his hands.
I closed the binder.
May you like
The wedding was in seventeen hours.
And nobody in that room knew what he was going to do.
