Chương 4
Claire met me at her lawyer’s office on Monday morning.
Her attorney, Ms. Reed, sat beside her. Ms. Brooks joined me. The orange envelope lay on the table between us.
Claire had brought a notebook. I recognized it from our marriage. She used to write household costs in it when I told her she worried too much about money.
Now I was glad she kept records.
Ms. Reed explained the deed, the mortgage arrangements, and the transition agreement. The lender had approved the change through a refinance in Claire’s name based on her income and the agreed settlement figures. I had contributed the required closing funds before the disputed bank transfer was discovered.
“The title is recorded,” Ms. Reed said. “Claire is the owner. We’re checking the final account to ensure the settlement credits are accurate.”
Claire read the figures.
“How long is Andre allowed to stay?”
“Sixty days under the written occupancy agreement,” Ms. Reed said. “He pays the agreed expenses during that period. Nia has been given appropriate notice through counsel regarding her belongings and occupancy.”
I was grateful the lawyers had handled the rights involved rather than letting a barbecue speech decide who slept where.
Claire looked at me.
“Where will you go?”
“I’m looking for a place near Ava’s school.”
“Not farther away?”
“No.”
She wrote that down.
Then Ms. Brooks brought out the bank statements and Nia’s contract. Ms. Reed checked them against the settlement timeline.
“The larger transfer happened while Andre was preparing the repayment funds,” she said. “We’ll want the contractor’s records before deciding how it affects any separate claim.”
Claire nodded.
I told her what Ava said.
Her face changed immediately.
“Nia told Ava she might not get to visit?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last weekend.”
Claire set down her pen.
“Ava asked if she was making us fight. I thought she meant the transfer dispute.”
“I didn’t know.”
Claire looked at me for a long moment.
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“Then you need to find out what happens in your house when you aren’t in the room.”
I accepted it.
After the meeting, we spoke in the parking lot.
“I owe you an apology,” I said.
“You owe me several.”
“Yes.”
She waited.
“I told my family you were unreasonable because I didn’t want them to know I had broken our agreement. I let you look greedy so I could look wronged.”
Her eyes filled, but she stayed still.
“I spent two years hearing that through Ava,” she said. “Your mother would ask whether I was still bothering you about money. Your cousins stopped inviting me to things. I didn’t need them to like me. I needed Ava not to hear that her mother was hurting her father.”
“I’ll speak to everyone I told.”
“Don’t make another event out of it.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t ask me to forgive you while I’m still trying to understand what changed.”
I nodded.
“I’m not asking.”
That afternoon, I went to my mother’s house.
She opened the door with the guarded expression she used after a family argument.
“I knew you’d come,” she said.
“I need to correct what I told you about Claire.”
We sat at her kitchen table. I explained the inheritance, the agreement, the missed deadline, and the public accusation I allowed to grow.
My mother listened, then said, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“So you let me blame her.”
“Yes.”
My mother looked toward the window.
“I said things to her.”
“I know.”
“I said some in front of Ava.”
“I know that too.”
She pressed her hands together.
“What do I do?”
“Apologize directly. Don’t tell her you were only defending me. That would make it sound as though she caused it.”
My mother gave me a sharp look, then looked down again.
“You’re right.”
I had rarely heard her say that.
She called Claire while I was there. Claire did not answer. My mother left a short message asking whether she could speak when Claire was ready.
No explanation. No defense.
It was a beginning.
On my way home, Malik called. He had sent invoices.
I pulled over to read them before returning his call.
One charge was for custom cabinets. Another was for a crew reservation. A third was a design fee.
The cabinet invoice carried the address of a different house.
I recognized it.
It belonged to Nia’s mother.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then I saved the file and sent it to Ms. Brooks.
There was still more to learn.
