Chapter 2
Vanessa would not give me the folder.
She held it just out of reach and told me I was frightening Naomi. I stepped back. My daughter was standing beside Mom, watching both of us.
“You’re right about one thing,” I said. “We’re not doing this in front of her.”
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“Then stop acting like I’ve committed a crime.”
“I asked what Mom signed.”
“A few forms so a real estate agent can assess her property.”
Mom gripped the back of the dining chair.
“I thought a man was coming to look at the roof,” she said.
“He is,” Vanessa replied. “First the roof, then the rest. We’ve talked about selling for months.”
Mom stared at her.
“I said I might fix the porch. I never said I’d sell.”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“You told me you were tired of living alone.”
“I told you I missed seeing Naomi after school.”
I took Naomi’s hand and led her upstairs. She asked if Grandma was losing her house. I told her I didn’t know what was in the papers yet, and I wouldn’t let anyone rush Grandma into a decision.
“Mom said Grandma wants to live in a nice place where people help her,” Naomi said.
“Did Grandma tell you that?”
“No.”
“Then we need to ask Grandma what she wants.”
Naomi nodded, though she still looked worried. I called my friend Marcus, who lived nearby, and asked whether Naomi could stay at his place for an hour with his wife and their son. She knew them well. Marcus came over, and I walked her to his car.
When I returned, Mom was at the kitchen table. Her cold dinner was still in front of her.
Vanessa had gone upstairs with the folder.
I warmed Mom’s food. She took a few bites while I sat across from her.
“Tell me everything you remember,” I said.
“Vanessa came to my house Tuesday. She said she knew a contractor who could repair the porch before winter. Today she said he needed my signature to discuss costs.”
“Did you read the forms?”
“She turned the pages to show me where to sign. I asked to take them home. She said the contractor was already booked for tomorrow.”
I tried to keep my face calm.
“Mom, did you sign more than one page?”
“Three, I think.”
“What did the headings say?”
“I didn’t have my glasses. Vanessa said she would read them to me.”
My anger rose again, sharp and hot. I wanted to go upstairs and demand the folder. Instead, I asked Mom whether she had a copy.
“No.”
I called a lawyer named Patricia Reed, who had helped Mom with her will the previous year. I left a message explaining that Mom might have signed property documents she did not understand.
Patricia returned my call within ten minutes.
“Do not sign anything else,” she told Mom. “I’ll meet you both in my office first thing tomorrow. If your daughter-in-law sends the documents tonight, forward them to me.”
Mom straightened in her chair.
“It’s still my house,” she said.
“It is,” Patricia answered. “You get to decide what happens to it.”
Vanessa came downstairs as Mom ended the call.
“You brought a lawyer into this?”
“Mom called someone she trusts,” I said.
“You made her afraid of me.”
Mom put down her fork.
“I’m afraid because you won’t let me see what I signed.”
Vanessa looked at her with surprise. I wondered how often Mom had quietly agreed with her just to end an uncomfortable conversation.
“I’ll email the papers,” Vanessa said. “Then you’ll see I was trying to help.”
“Do it now,” I said.
She sent them from her phone. I opened the attachment beside Mom.
The first page authorized a real estate company to begin marketing Mom’s house. The second gave Vanessa permission to speak on Mom’s behalf about offers. The third was a request for financial information Mom had never agreed to share.
Mom read each heading with my glasses. Her hand shook.
“I didn’t want any of this.”
Vanessa sat across from us.
“I was going to explain the details after we got the estimate.”
“There was no reason to hurry me,” Mom said.
Vanessa turned to me.
“You’ve heard her complain about the stairs. She’s getting older. I was finding a solution.”
“She decides whether to sell,” I said.
“She agreed when we discussed it.”
“No,” Mom said.
Vanessa’s expression went flat.
“Your son can’t look after you forever.”
Mom’s eyes filled. She had spent her life looking after other people, and now Vanessa was speaking as though needing help would take away her right to choose.
Patricia called again after receiving the documents. She told Mom she could revoke the authorization and would prepare the proper notices. She would also contact the agent to find out what had already been done.
Vanessa stood.
“I won’t stay in a house where you both treat me like this.”
“You can stay with Holly tonight,” I said. “We need space.”
She waited for me to take it back. I didn’t.
After she left, Mom covered her face.
“I should have read every page.”
“You asked to take them home. She wouldn’t let you.”
“I thought she cared about me.”
May you like
I moved beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.
Patricia called once more before we went to bed. She had spoken to the agency. A photographer was already scheduled to visit Mom’s house at nine the next morning.
