And beside that was another date almost three years later.
“What’s this?”
Melissa answered before Mom could.
“That was when I was supposed to repay her.”
I stared at her.
“You borrowed thirty-five thousand dollars?”
“It wasn’t exactly like that.”
“There’s an amount and a repayment date. That sounds pretty much like a loan.”
Mom touched my shoulder.
“Amanda.”
But I had already pulled out another document.
$18,000.
Different year.
Different repayment date.
“What was this?”
Melissa crossed her arms.
“We were struggling then.”
“Your husband owned a dental clinic.”
“One clinic. And it was barely surviving.”
Then I found another transfer.
$12,500.
Then another.
$27,000.
I grabbed Mom’s notebook again.
Suddenly, all those strange columns of numbers made sense.
Every figure corresponded to money Mom had given Melissa.
I sat on the edge of the bed and started matching the dates.
“Stop,” Melissa said.
I kept going.
One transfer happened around the time her second child was born.
Another appeared shortly before her husband opened his second clinic.
I remembered that year.
Melissa had spent months talking about how stressful the expansion was.
Mom, meanwhile, had decided her twelve-year-old car could somehow last “a few more years.”
Another payment came during the year Mom canceled a vacation with friends because she said traveling was too expensive.
I looked at her.
“Mom, how much money did you give Melissa?”
She hesitated.
“I’d have to calculate it.”
“I won’t.”
I opened the calculator on my phone.
Melissa stepped toward me.
“Amanda, don’t.”
That only made me more determined.
I added every amount.
Then checked the total.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally, I looked up.
“One hundred thirty-seven thousand five hundred dollars.”
Nobody spoke.
My eyes went to Melissa.
Her designer purse was downstairs on Mom’s dining table.
The same purse she had spent ten minutes bragging about the day before.
And inside Mom’s birthday card was twenty dollars.
“You owe Mom $137,500?”
“No.”
I actually laughed.
“No?”
“That’s not what this is.”
“There are repayment dates beside every single amount.”
“Mom never expected me to repay everything.”
“How convenient.”
“It’s true.”
I turned toward Mom.
“Is she telling the truth?”
Mom sat beside me.
“Yes.”
That answer stopped me cold.
“What?”
“I never really expected Melissa to pay all of it back.”
I stared at the documents.
“Then why write everything down?”
Mom took the notebook from my hands.
“Because I needed to remember how much she had already received.”
“For what?”
She looked at me.
“For you.”
I couldn’t speak.
Mom turned several pages.
There was my name.
And beneath it?
Almost nothing.
“I don’t understand.”
Mom sighed.
“Melissa needed help sooner than you did. You didn’t. But that doesn’t mean one daughter should eventually receive more than the other.”
Melissa slowly sat beside the window.
Mom continued.
“Some of these began as loans. Melissa always told me she would pay me back once they were doing better.”
“But you never made her.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Mom looked genuinely confused by my question.
“Because eventually I didn’t need her to.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is to me.”
She closed the folder.
“I have two daughters. Whatever I leave someday will ultimately be divided between both of you anyway. Melissa needed part of hers earlier, so I gave it to her earlier.”
I looked down at the notebook.
“Then why keep records?”
“So that when the time comes, what Melissa has already received can be taken into account. You would receive an equivalent amount first. Whatever remains after that gets divided between you.”
For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the hallway clock.
I had opened that drawer expecting proof that Melissa had taken advantage of Mom.
Instead, I had discovered that Mom had quietly been planning for both daughters all along.
“I don’t want $137,500,” I said.
Mom smiled gently.
“I know.”
