As she sped away, I stood in a cloud of exhaust fumes, suspicion gnawing at me.
“That was Grandma, wasn’t it?” Benny asked, tugging at my sleeve. “Why doesn’t she want to see us anymore?”
I looked down at my son’s confused face and forced a smile. “Some people just don’t know how to handle sadness, honey.”
The Rusty Nail Bar wasn’t my first choice for employment, but the tips were good, and the late hours meant I could still be there when Benny got home from school.
One slow Tuesday night, I was wiping down tables when the weight of Zach’s absence pressed on my chest like a boulder I could never roll away.
I slipped his photo from my wallet — the one from our anniversary trip to the lake. He was mid-laugh, sunlight catching in his hair.
“Hey, I know that guy.”
I looked up to find Max, the bartender, leaning over my shoulder.
“You do?”
“Yeah, he used to come in sometimes. Wait —” His eyes widened. “You’re his wife, aren’t you? Tiana, right? He talked about you all the time.”
A lump formed in my throat. “He did?”
Max nodded, sliding into the booth across from me. “Man, he was so proud of you and your kid… always showed us pictures.” His face grew serious. “I heard what happened. I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks,” I said, tucking the photo away.
“So, did you get the money from his mom?”
I stared at him. “What money?”
Max’s expression shifted from sympathy to confusion. “The cash. Zach’s savings. He kept it at his mom’s place… said something about keeping it off the books because of some old debts.” He leaned closer. “He must’ve had close to a hundred grand stashed there over the years.”
The room seemed to tilt. “A $100,000? And his mother has it?”
“Yeah, in her basement. Zach showed me once when we were hanging out. Said it was all for you and Benny someday.”
