“Well, his name isn’t showing up on this yet. But the address, the firm, and several of the associated investors have connections to a name that keeps appearing.”
He says the name. I’ve never heard it. But Tully freezes.
“You recognize that name,” I say.
His head falls back as he stares up at the ceiling and groans. Then he looks at me again.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I do.”
Wade looks between us. “I don’t have the full picture yet. But it feels like a good start. Should I keep digging?”
“Absolutely,” Tully says. No hesitation.
Wade nods and looks at me.
“Yes, please,” I say.
“There have also been an exorbitant number of log-in attempts on your accounts, Lola. I think we’re shaking him up.”
After we hang up, my mind is swimming a bit, but I get to work, relieved that Tully and Wade and Marcus have my back.
I’ve kept Isla updated about Tully, and she’s happy for me. Really happy.
“I think it’s beautiful that you never stopped loving each other,” she said. “I’ll miss you at Thanksgiving, but I’m happy you’re going.But, you’ve gotta take more pictures than you took at the charity event.”
She texts before I start with my next appointment.
Isla
Have you told Mom and Dad about Thanksgiving yet?
I’m going to see if we can do a FaceTime tonight.
Isla
You’re cutting it to the last minute. You leave the DAY AFTER TOMORROW.
I groan.
I know. I know.
Everyone is up for the call, but they look a littleworried once we’re all on. I can’t remember when we last had a family FaceTime. If ever.
My mom wears a silk blouse at the kitchen table, and my father appears in the corner square, smaller, seated in his armchair. Luca’s eating something. And Isla is in her old bedroom in our parents’ house, folding laundry.
Four faces blink at me from four squares on my screen. I take a breath.
“Hi, everyone,” I say awkwardly.
“What’s going on, Lola? You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Mom says.
“Thanks, Mom. I’m…great. I’m seeing Tully again,” I say. “And this is why I wanted to talk tonight—he’s invited me to Minnesota for Thanksgiving, and I said yes.”
The silence lasts exactly one and a half seconds.
Then everyone talks at once.
My mother’s voice is the loudest by a significant margin, which is both predictable and impressive. “Tully Whitman? Oh Lola. Why would you go down that path again? And Thanksgiving? That’s just a few days away. Why would you wait so long to tell me?”
