Nick turned toward Frank.
“Dad, are you really going to stand there and let her talk to me like that?”
Frank finished hanging a blouse.
Then he looked at his son.
“Your mother hasn’t said anything untrue.”
Nick fell silent.
Elaine reached into her purse.
“Tara recorded an explanation. She wants both of you to hear it.”
Something changed in Nick’s expression.
He immediately reached for his phone.
“I need to call her.”
“No,” I said.
He stared at me.
“We’re going to listen first.”
Downstairs, Elaine connected her phone to the television.
Tara appeared on the screen, sitting at her kitchen table.
“My name is Tara Keller,” she began. “I’m recording this because Anna deserves to know the truth.”
She paused.
“Nick told me to sell the expensive maternity clothes and give him half the money. He said Anna had agreed.”
Nick suddenly moved toward the remote control.
I grabbed it first.
“Sit down,” I told him.
“Anna—”
“Sit down, Nick. We’re watching all of it.”
Tara’s recording lasted six minutes.
She described the entire arrangement.
Nick had contacted her two days before he took my wardrobe.
He told her I was clearing out clothes and wanted to help her financially.
When he delivered the baskets, she noticed several items were new.
She questioned him about the green dress and nursing pajamas.
He told her not to worry.
Then he instructed her to sell the most expensive pieces first.
Tara admitted she’d suspected I hadn’t agreed.
But she needed money and convinced herself that Nick would handle the consequences.
“I made a selfish decision,” she said tearfully. “Anna offered to help me after she finished using those clothes. I had no right to take them early, and I definitely had no right to sell them.”
When the recording ended, nobody spoke.
Then Nick cleared his throat.
“She misunderstood some of what I said.”
I opened the screenshots.
“Sell the expensive items first,” I read aloud.
He shifted uncomfortably.
“You don’t know the context.”
“Then explain it.”
Silence.
I continued.
“Card payment. Need it by Monday.”
Frank leaned forward.
“What card, son?”
Nick rubbed his hands over his face.
“It’s handled.”
“By selling my clothes ?” I asked.
“I was going to replace them!”
“But you told me you’d given them away because Tara needed help.”
He looked down.
“I didn’t want you worrying about finances before the baby came.”
My heart started pounding.
“What finances?”
He hesitated.
“Nick, show me the statement.”
Eventually, he opened a banking app on his phone.
The outstanding balance was $2,700.
I stared at it.
I’d never seen that account before.
“Whose credit card is this?”
“Mine.”
“When did you open it?”
“Earlier this year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He stared at the floor.
I asked to see the transactions.
There were restaurant bills, gas purchases, and ordinary expenses he’d previously claimed to pay from his checking account.
“Why are you charging groceries and gas to a hidden credit card?”
He took a deep breath.
“Because I spent the money from checking.”
“On what?”
