Chapter 2 - The Name at the Bottom
Summer moved before the door opened.
She slid the folder beneath a stack of folded towels just as Andy stepped inside.
“What are you doing?”
“Laundry.”
Andy looked around.
His eyes paused on her phone.
Summer locked the screen.
“You’re jumpy,” he said.
“You’re observant.”
He laughed, but his eyes did not.
Summer spent the rest of Wednesday night pretending nothing had changed.
She slept beside Andy without truly sleeping.
At six the next morning, he left early.
He kissed her cheek.
The gesture felt rehearsed.
“Big dinner tonight?”
“Seven.”
“My mother hates being late.”
“I know.”
“Don’t make anything weird.”
Summer looked at him.
“What would make it weird?”
Andy studied her.
Then smiled.
“Nothing.”
When the door closed, Summer immediately called Robert.
“What account?”
“I’d rather show you.”
“No. Tell me now.”
Robert hesitated.
“I checked something that’s publicly accessible through county filings and a business registry. It led me to a financial disclosure connected to Andy’s employer.”
Summer stood in the kitchen.
“Go on.”
“Andy registered a side company four months ago.”
“What company?”
“Oldham Executive Holdings.”
Summer almost laughed.
It sounded ridiculous.
“What does it hold?”
“That’s what I don’t know.”
“Why use his mother’s last name?”
“Exactly.”
Summer closed her eyes.
“And Evelyn?”
“There’s a transfer listed in a financing document connected to the company.”
“How much?”
“Forty thousand.”
Summer gripped the counter.
“Not thirty-seven?”
“No.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
Six weeks.
The promotion.
The watch.
The shirts.
The obsession with image.
“Did she sign anything?”
“I haven’t seen a signature.”
“Could Andy have access to her account?”
“That’s what we need to ask her.”
Summer looked toward the clock.
Eleven hours until dinner.
“Bring everything.”
“I already printed it.”
At the library, Summer made mistakes she never made.
She mislabeled one archive box.
Forgot a scheduled phone call.
Read the same paragraph four times.
At 4:30, she left early.
She bought fresh bread.
Chicken.
Salad greens.
A bottle of wine.
At home, she set the dining table exactly as she had imagined.
Five places.
Then she added a sixth.
Andy.
Summer.
Evelyn.
Linda.
Robert.
One empty chair remained near the end of the table.
Summer stared at it.
She had invited one more person that morning.
Mark Densmore.
Andy’s cousin.
The third witness beyond Evelyn, exactly as Summer had planned after Robert’s warning.
Mark worked at a regional bank in Nashville.
He had refused to discuss private banking records but agreed to attend because Summer told him Evelyn might have been financially exploited.
At 6:42, Linda arrived.
She hugged Summer.
“What did that boy do?”
“You’ll see.”
At 6:51, Robert came in carrying a thin black folder.
He placed it beside his chair.
At 6:57, Mark arrived.
Evelyn came at 7:02.
She kissed Summer’s cheek.
“You look tired.”
“I’ve had a strange week.”
Evelyn smiled.
“Marriage.”
Summer almost said, You have no idea.
Andy walked in at 7:11.
He stopped when he saw everyone.
“Party?”
“Dinner,” Summer said.
He looked at Robert.
Then Mark.
Something changed in his eyes.
“Why is everyone here?”
“Sit down.”
Andy gave a short laugh.
“Since when do you give orders?”
Evelyn frowned.
“Andrew.”
He sat.
Dinner began.
For six minutes, everyone pretended.
Linda talked about a neighbor.
Evelyn complimented the chicken.
Robert barely touched his wine.
Andy ate quickly.
“Now this,” he said, lifting his fork, “is what I was talking about. A real meal.”
Summer looked at him.
The arrogance was almost useful.
She placed her napkin down.
“What did you give me for groceries this month?”
Andy stopped chewing.
“What?”
“Just answer.”
He looked around.
“This is ridiculous.”
“How much?”
“Seventy-five dollars.”
Evelyn’s fork paused.
Linda turned toward him.
Mark lowered his glass.
Summer nodded.
“And what did you tell me?”
Andy’s voice hardened.
“That you needed to budget.”
“You said seventy-five dollars was enough for the month.”
“Summer.”
“And you wanted meat every night.”
Linda stared at Andy.
Evelyn said, “Andrew, seventy-five dollars?”
He looked embarrassed rather than ashamed.
“Mom, stay out of this.”
Summer reached beneath her napkin.
Then she lifted the receipt.
Andy went white.
Not pale.
White.
Summer held it between two fingers.
“Would you like to explain this?”
Andy pushed his chair back slightly.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your jacket.”
“You went through my things?”
Evelyn leaned forward.
“What is it?”
Summer placed the receipt on the table.
Evelyn picked it up.
Her eyes widened.
“Twenty-three thousand dollars?”
“Keep reading,” Summer said.
“Fourteen thousand for tires?”
Andy stood.
“This is none of anybody’s business.”
Robert finally spoke.
“Sit down, Andy.”
Andy turned.
Something about Robert’s voice stopped him.
He sat again.
Summer pointed to the handwritten line at the bottom.
Evelyn read it.
Her expression changed.
“Down payment made by bank transfer from Evelyn Oldham.”
Silence.
Evelyn looked at her son.
“What is this?”
“Mom—”
“What is this?”
Andy rubbed his jaw.
“It’s complicated.”
“I didn’t transfer money for wheels.”
Summer watched him.
“I know.”
Andy snapped toward her.
“You called her?”
“I asked whether she bought you anything.”
Evelyn placed the receipt down.
“How much did you take?”
“I didn’t take anything.”
Robert opened his folder.
Andy saw it.
His breathing changed.
Robert removed one document.
“Oldham Executive Holdings.”
Andy stared at him.
“How did you—”
“You registered it publicly.”
Evelyn looked confused.
“What is that?”
Robert slid the document toward her.
“A company registered by your son.”
Andy stood again.
“This is insane.”
Mark spoke next.
“Sit down.”
Andy’s head turned.
Now there were too many people.
Too many eyes.
Too many documents.
Summer finally understood why he had wanted her isolated inside the budget.
Control worked best when nobody compared notes.
Evelyn read the page.
“My address.”
Robert nodded.
Andy’s company had been registered using Evelyn’s old Knoxville address.
She looked up.
“You used my house?”
“It was paperwork.”
“What paperwork?”
Andy said nothing.
Robert pulled out another sheet.
“This financing statement shows a forty-thousand-dollar capital contribution into the company.”
Evelyn’s lips parted.
Summer whispered, “From your account?”
Robert nodded.
Andy slammed one hand onto the table.
“Enough!”
The wine glasses trembled.
Biscuit ran from the room.
Summer did not flinch.
“Don’t raise your voice.”
Andy turned toward her.
“You set me up.”
“No.”
She looked at the receipt.
“You set yourself up.”
Evelyn’s voice shook.
“Andrew, did you access my savings?”
“No.”
“Then how did my money get into your company?”
“I said it’s complicated.”
“Stop saying that!”
Everyone went still.
Summer had rarely heard Evelyn shout.
The older woman pushed back from the table.
“I gave you access to one account when your father was sick. To pay medical bills.”
Andy stared at his plate.
Summer felt cold.
“How long ago?” she asked.
“Four years.”
“Did you ever remove him?”
Evelyn looked embarrassed.
“I thought I did.”
Mark finally leaned forward.
“A linked authorization can remain active under certain conditions if it was set up differently from what you remember.”
Andy pointed at him.
“You have no right to talk about her banking.”
Mark’s expression stayed flat.
“I haven’t.”
Robert tapped the financing document.
“This isn’t banking information. This is your company record.”
Andy looked trapped.
Summer almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Then she remembered the watery soup.
The cheese he ate alone.
The seventy-five dollars.
“What was the forty thousand for?” Summer asked.
Andy’s jaw worked.
“Business.”
“The receipt says wheels.”
“That was part of it.”
“Part of what?”
“Branding.”
Linda blinked.
“You stole from your mother for branding?”
“I did not steal anything!”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Did I give you permission?”
Andy said nothing.
Evelyn repeated the question.
“Did I give you permission?”
“No.”
The word barely came out.
Summer closed her eyes for one second.
There it was.
Not an explanation.
A confession.
Evelyn sat back down slowly.
“You took forty thousand dollars from me.”
“I was going to replace it.”
“With what?”
“My bonus.”
“What bonus?”
Andy hesitated.
Robert caught it.
“You don’t have one.”
Andy’s eyes snapped toward him.
Robert opened another page.
“I called no one at your company. I didn’t need to. Your compensation range is included in the filing attached to your supervisory position.”
Summer looked at Andy.
“How much do you make?”
“That’s none of—”
“Your wife is asking you,” Evelyn said.
Andy swallowed.
Robert answered.
“Not enough to replace forty thousand anytime soon.”
The room fell silent again.
Then Mark’s phone buzzed.
He looked down.
His expression changed.
Summer noticed.
“What?”
Mark did not answer immediately.
“Mark?”
He stood.
“I need to show Evelyn something privately.”
Andy moved faster.
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
Mark narrowed his eyes.
“Why not?”
Andy backed away from the table.
“You’re turning this into something it isn’t.”
“Then what is it?” Summer asked.
Andy opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
Declined it.
It rang again.
Same number.
Robert watched.
“Answer it.”
Andy rejected it again.
The third time, Summer saw the caller name reflected faintly in the dark screen of the wine bottle.
Monica D.
She did not know Monica.
But Andy did.
His hand was shaking.
The phone rang a fourth time.
This time Evelyn reached across the table.
“Answer it.”
Andy stepped back.
And then someone knocked hard on the front door.
Three times.
Not politely.
Not like a neighbor.
Andy stared toward the hallway.
Mark looked at him.
“Who are you expecting?”
Andy whispered one word.
“No.”
The knocking came again.
Then a woman’s voice sounded from the other side.
“Andy, open the door. I know you’re in there.”
Summer slowly stood.
Andy moved in front of her.
“Don’t.”
Summer looked at him.
Then at the door.
The woman outside knocked once more.
May you like
And shouted the sentence Andy clearly never wanted his wife to hear.
“I brought the contract you told me Summer already signed.”
