Chapter 5: Getting Things in Order
Ruth picked up on the third ring.
"Barbara," she said.
"I was wondering when I'd hear from you."
I walked to the balcony and slid the door half-closed behind me.
Through the glass I could see Daniel standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, watching me.
"Ruth," I said, "has anyone contacted your office recently regarding the beach condo?"
A pause.
"Not directly.
But I received a courtesy notification six weeks ago that a title search had been requested on the property.
Standard procedure when that happens is to notify the owner of record." She paused again.
"I sent a letter to your home address."
"I didn't receive it."
Another pause, longer.
"Barbara, the letter was signed for."
I looked through the glass at my son.
"I see," I said.
"Do you want me to pull the full inquiry record?"
"Yes.
And Ruth — I want to know if there have been any other documents, inquiries, or filings related to any of my properties in the past two years.
Anything at all."
She didn't hesitate.
"I'll have everything pulled by end of day.
Do you want me to come to you, or—"
"I'll call you back within the hour," I said.
"Don't do anything until you hear from me."
I ended the call and stood with my hand on the railing.
The water below was the same as it had always been.
Steady.
Patient.
Indifferent to what was happening twelve floors above it.
I slid the door open.
Daniel was still standing in the same spot.
"My attorney received notification of the title inquiry six weeks ago," I said.
"She sent a letter to my home address.
It was signed for."
He said nothing.
"You intercepted my mail," I said.
"Mom, I was at the house helping you with the gutters.
The mail came while I was there.
I saw the letter and I just—" He stopped.
"You just what?"
"I didn't want you to worry."
"You didn't want me to ask questions," I said.
"There is a difference."
Harper stood up from the table.
"Daniel, what is going on?
What is this inquiry actually about?"
"It's nothing," he said.
"It was exploratory.
I was looking at options."
"What options?" I asked.
"Financial options." He finally looked at me directly.
"Mom, you're sixty-seven years old.
You have three properties and you manage all of them alone.
I was looking into whether a trust structure might make sense so that if something happened to you—"
"If something happened to me," I said, "my will is filed with my attorney and it is clear.
You know that.
You have always known that."
"Wills can be contested," he said.
"A trust would be cleaner."
The room was very quiet.
"Cleaner for whom?" I said.
He didn't answer that.
I looked at my daughter-in-law.
She was staring at her husband with an expression I had never seen on her face before.
Not anger.
Something more complicated than that.
"Harper," I said, "how long has he been talking about the properties?"
She pressed her lips together.
"Harper," Daniel said, a warning in his voice.
She looked at him.
Then she looked at me.
"About eighteen months," she said.
The word landed in the room like something dropped from a height.
Eighteen months.
While I was bringing holiday dinners to their house.
While I was sending birthday money for the grandchildren.
While I was answering every phone call, every request, every favor — my son had been quietly mapping out what he planned to do with what I owned.
And he had brought Harper's parents here — to my condo, to my bedroom, to my peace — not because they needed a vacation.
But because he needed me gone for a few days while something else was being arranged.
"I'd like you all to leave now," I said.
"Mom—"
"The security officers are still here.
I would prefer not to involve them further." I moved to the front door and opened it.
"Please take your things."
Daniel didn't move immediately.
His jaw worked.
May you like
Then he said the one thing he should not have said.
"You're going to regret this."
