She knew him too well.
A part of him had enjoyed watching Preston realize who Monica was.
A part of him had enjoyed Karen seeing his face on the poster.
He was not proud of that part.
Monica touched his cheek.
“You’re allowed to be angry.”
“I am.”
“Just don’t build a house there.”
After dinner, Monica sat in Clarence’s old recliner.
Jaylen sat on the floor beside her.
She rested one hand on his head.
The television played quietly.
For a while they said nothing.
Then Monica spoke.
“You know the worst part?”
Jaylen looked up.
“The check?”
“No.”
“My arm?”
“No.”
“The groceries?”
She smiled faintly.
“Those greens were expensive.”
He waited.
“The worst part was everybody watching.”
Jaylen’s expression changed.
Monica looked toward the dark television screen.
“I kept looking around thinking somebody was going to say something.”
“The woman did.”
“Eventually.”
“Devon tried.”
“Eventually.”
She nodded.
“I don’t blame them exactly.”
“Why not?”
“Fear.”
She shrugged.
“People have mortgages. Jobs. Accounts. Everybody thinks they’ll be brave until being brave costs something.”
Jaylen thought about that.
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
“No.”
“But?”
“But I understand it.”
Monica closed her eyes.
“That’s different.”
Three months later, Monica returned to Ridgewood National Bank.
Jaylen offered to go with her.
She refused.
Reginald offered a driver.
She refused that too.
She went after grocery shopping.
Same worn jacket.
Same sneakers.
Same two bags.
Same bent spine.
The branch looked almost identical.
The counters had not changed.
The marble had not changed.
The velvet ropes had not changed.
But the atmosphere did.
Devon saw Monica enter and came around the counter.
“Mrs. Taylor.”
She smiled.
“Hey, baby.”
“Let me get those.”
“I can carry them.”
“I know.”
He waited.
Monica handed him one bag.
“Only because my back hurts.”
“Of course.”
He walked beside her.
A new teller named Elena greeted her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Taylor.”
Monica handed over another $8,000 check.
Elena verified the ordinary information required for the deposit.
No accusations.
No performance.
No humiliation.
The transaction took less than two minutes.
“Would you like a receipt?”
“Yes, please.”
Elena handed it to her.
“Have a wonderful afternoon.”
Monica looked at the receipt.
Then at the teller.