Chapter 16. What Belongs to Me #3
The apartment was not a threat to Grant or evidence against him. It was a place I could keep whether the case moved faster, slower, or in a direction I could not yet predict.
At five, I changed clothes there before dinner. I chose dark trousers and the green sweater Miles said made me look like the librarian who never waived fines. The comparison was not flattering, but it was specific, and the sweater was warm.
Thursday's dinner began at 6:27 because Grant sent a parenting-app alert that traffic had delayed Miles's bus by seven minutes. I arrived at the penthouse before them and sat at the kitchen counter without opening the refrigerator.
The apartment remained legally and practically mine during nesting, but entering on Grant's parenting evening felt different after Monday. I had agreed because Miles wanted both parents and because course requests opened Friday. I would leave at eight.
Grant and Miles arrived together. Miles carried his backpack and a printed course catalog covered with green tabs.
“Dad printed the wrong year first,” he said.
Grant placed the obsolete catalog in the recycling bin. “The website defaulted to the current year.”
“The heading said 2025-26.”
“I have accepted responsibility.”
Miles looked at me. “He said the printer understood the assignment better than he did.”
“The printer did not understand anything,” I said. “Your father made a joke.”
“It was weak,” Grant said.
We sat at the dining table. Grant served chicken, rice, and green beans from containers he had picked up on the way home. He did not pretend he had cooked. Miles put his agenda between us.
He wanted advanced science, standard eighth-grade math, orchestra, Spanish, and the semester-long theater technology elective.
Advanced science met at the same time as morning orchestra sectional twice each month.
The school could accommodate it if he attended an after-school make-up, but Thursday transport would become difficult.
“I can do the second and fourth Thursdays,” Grant said after checking his calendar.
“You have lender calls until six on the second Thursday,” I said.
“Daniel can lead the domestic call. The London call moves to Friday morning.”
“Are you allowed to do that?” Miles asked.
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you before?”
Grant put down his fork. “Because I treated the calls as fixed and your schedule as adjustable.”
“That seems bad.”
“It was.”
Miles turned to me. “Can you do the other Thursdays?”
I checked my own calendar. The donor consortium met on the fourth Thursday, not the first and third.
“Yes. Put both of us on the request form and identify the dates.”
Miles filled in the boxes himself.
We discussed the theater elective next. He wanted to learn lighting because musicians had to wait during every technical rehearsal and he wanted to know why.
“You do not have to turn waiting into a job,” I said.
“I know. I also want to press the buttons.”
“That is a better reason.”
At seven forty-five, he carried his plate to the dishwasher and went to photograph the signed course form. Grant remained across from me.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“It was for Miles.”
“I know.”
He did not ask how I was. I did not ask about the Vale board meeting.
At seven fifty-two, I put on my coat. Miles came from the hallway and stopped me before I reached the elevator.
“Are you both still coming to the science thing Saturday?”
“Yes,” I said. “At the times in the app.”
“Are you going to sit together?”
I looked at Grant. He let me answer.
“We will both be there,” I said. “We may sit separately. That is an adult arrangement, not something you caused or need to fix.”
Miles adjusted one of the green tabs sticking from his catalog. “Okay. I just need two tickets if you do.”
“You have two.”
“Good.”
He hugged me. Grant stayed by the table.
I left at 7:58.
Rachel called while I waited for the train.
“Vale made its lender and board disclosures this afternoon.
Grant is offering to unwind Northline's control, accept Elena as lead for all community negotiations, and recuse from the financing decision. Owen wants those acts documented as performance under your list.”
“They can document facts. Not performance for me.”
“That was my answer.”
“What does unwind mean?”
“Transfer at cost to an approved lender if one commits. If none does, convert Northline to an independently managed special-purpose holder with Grant's voting rights suspended for the life of the note. The board and lenders have to approve. It may reduce his distribution and company return.”
“Has he accepted that?”
“In writing. The board votes tomorrow, and lenders respond Monday.”
A train arrived. I let it leave because the platform was crowded and I needed to hear the rest.
“He also disclosed Owen's warning and the two-minute interval before authorization,” Rachel said. “No omission in the board packet that we can identify.”
“Thank you.”
“Does that change your instruction?”
I watched the departing train until its red rear lights passed the curve.
“No,” I said. “It changes the record.”
The next train was due in six minutes. I waited for it without calling Grant.