Chapter 4
I hired an attorney the next morning.
Her name was Aisha Grant. Naomi recommended her through a friend who had needed help protecting an elderly parent.
I told Aisha what I knew and what I only suspected.
She stopped me whenever the two began running together.
“Your father’s care, the visitor restrictions, and the business payments may be connected,” she said. “We need records that show how.”
I liked her immediately.
I was angry enough to believe almost anything about Denise. That was a reason to be careful, not a reason to stop.
Aisha asked Dad whether he wanted her help.
He looked at me.
“Is she yours or mine?”
“She can explain that.”
Aisha did.
She helped us find independent representation for Dad so his wishes would not disappear beneath my interests or Denise’s.
He chose an attorney named Mr. Bell.
The hospital evaluation found that Dad needed closer attention to his medications and nutrition. His memory problems were real, but the doctor would not accept a single family member’s description as a full account of what he could decide.
Dad wanted visitors.
He wanted to leave the hotel suite for now.
He wanted to know why people had told him I refused to come.
Those wishes were clear.
Denise brought folders.
She had paperwork saying she could handle certain financial matters for him. She also produced the medical letter Richard mentioned.
Mr. Bell requested the underlying records and permission to speak with the doctor whose name appeared on it.
Denise said everyone was treating her as a criminal.
Dad looked at her.
“Then answer them.”
She stared at him.
He had used that tone with both of us when we were young. I recognized the disbelief on her face.
She expected the father who needed help remembering dates.
She had forgotten he could still know when an answer was missing.
While the attorneys worked, I went home to see Lily.
She met me at the door.
“Did Grandpa recognize you?”
“Yes.”
“Is he nice?”
I knelt to loosen my shoes.
“He can be. He can also be stubborn.”
“Like you?”
Naomi laughed from the kitchen.
I nodded.
“Exactly like me.”
Lily had drawn a picture of the hotel from a photograph. She gave it to me in a folder she decorated with stars.
“For his room.”
I took it back to the hospital.
Dad held it for a long time.
“She drew all the windows.”
“She likes counting things.”
“So did you.”
I remembered lining up room keys in his office, arranging them by number.
He smiled.
“You used to tell the guests when we missed one.”
“I thought I worked there.”
“You did. Your wages were bread rolls.”
For a few minutes, we were simply father and son.
Then he asked whether I still resented him.
I looked at the drawing in his hands.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I deserve that.”
“I also missed you.”
His eyes filled.
“I missed you too.”
We did not try to finish the conversation before the nurse came.
Aisha called later with information about Haven Services.
It was controlled by Denise.
Payments came into it from Dad’s accounts and hotel-related funds. Some were described as medical coordination. Others had no clear supporting invoices yet.
Richard received the same amount every month and withdrew it into his own account.
“He says he performed security work,” Aisha told me. “We’ve asked for the work records.”
I thought about him pointing toward the street.
“He certainly performed some.”
She did not laugh.
I went to the hotel with Aisha and a scheduled appointment to collect Dad’s personal items. Richard met us in the lobby.
He avoided my eyes.
In the suite, I packed Dad’s cardigan, photographs, and the old wooden chessboard.
A desk drawer was locked.
Richard said Denise kept the key.
Aisha noted that and asked that nothing be removed while the attorneys requested access.
As we left, Ruth approached with a small envelope.
“Mr. Bennett asked me to keep this,” she said.
Inside was a letter I sent Dad eleven months earlier.
The seal was broken.
Across the top, in Denise’s handwriting, someone had written: Do not give to him. It will confuse him.
I read my first line.
Dad, Lily wants to meet you. We can come any weekend.
May you like
I had wondered why he never answered.
Now I knew at least one reason.
