It was Diane!
My stepmother walked in as if the place belonged to her, a leather folder tucked beneath one arm and that same tight smile on her face that she had worn at Thanksgiving, the one she had worn last November when my father lifted a glass and said, “To Diane Vanessa, the woman who keeps this family running.” Familyrelationship counseling
“Hello, Sandra,” Diane said. “Sit down, sweetheart. We have some paperwork to go over.”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath me.
Years of scattered pieces rearranged themselves in one breath.
* The “Vanessa” on Aaron’s phone had been my stepmother; only older family members usually used her middle name.
* The separate bank accounts.
* The locked drawer clearly held whatever my husband had been hiding.
* The way my husband kept nudging me to put the house in his name. Familyrelationship counseling
Diane. It had always been Diane!
“You two know each other,” I said. It was not a question.
read more in next page
