Chapter 6 - The Buyer Gets Nervous
By Friday afternoon, our real-estate agent called with the news I had been dreading.
“The buyer’s attorney heard there may be a residency dispute.”
My grip tightened on the phone. “From whom?”
A pause.
“An anonymous caller.”
It didn’t take genius to know who that was.
Our agent, Nina, spoke carefully. “The buyer still wants the house, but they need confirmation there won’t be any holdover occupant issue at closing. Marisa has already sent over the altered-document concern, which helps. But if Barbara tries to claim tenancy or equitable interest, the buyer could delay.”
After I hung up, I found Daniel in the garage staring at half-packed boxes.
“She called them,” he said before I spoke.
“Of course she did.”
He nodded once, as if admitting the obvious cost him something. “I talked to Mom. She denies it, which means she did it.”
That night we had our first real argument about Barbara.
Not the small exhausted arguments we had tiptoed around for months. A real one.
“You kept minimizing her,” I said. “Every time she criticized me. Every time she talked about my mother. Every time she acted like Ethan belonged more to her than to me.”
Daniel ran both hands through his hair. “I know.”
“No, you know now. I knew then.”
He didn’t defend himself. That was almost worse.
Upstairs, Susan began repacking her suitcase.
I found her folding her blouses with slow careful hands.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going home tomorrow,” she whispered. “If I stay, I may cost you the sale.”
I sat beside her on the bed and took the blouse from her lap.
“No,” I said. “You will not leave this house feeling like the burden she wants you to believe you are.”
Her eyes filled immediately.
“I never wanted to bring trouble into your home.”
I swallowed hard. “Mom, the trouble was already living here.”
She looked at me for a long moment, then nodded.
That same night, Marisa called again.
“If Barbara interferes one more time,” she said, “we move from family negotiation to formal notice.”
May you like
I looked downstairs toward Barbara’s closed bedroom door.
And I said, “Then let’s stop pretending she understands kindness.”
