Chapter 14 - THE CALL THAT PROVED MY MOTHER DIDN’T HAVE TO SILENCE GWEN ALONE
I remembered Christmas.
Not the details.
The feeling.
Twenty below zero outside.
Cheap artificial tree in the common room of the Yellowknife rental house.
A bottle of rye whiskey someone brought from Alberta.
I had worked fourteen hours.
I wanted home.
Mom’s video began with my face on the laptop.
Younger.
Heavier.
Beard covered in frost burn.
“Show me the house.”
Mom turned the laptop.
Framing.
New cabinets.
Drywall.
Paige waved.
Gwen stood near the back.
Her hair still reached her waist.
I smiled when I saw her.
“There she is.”
Gwen stepped closer.
“Gavin, can I talk to you alone?”
On the recording, Mom laughed.
“What did I tell you? Always dramatic.”
I watched my own face.
I smiled.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Give us five minutes.”
For one second, relief appeared on Gwen’s face.
Then Paige said off-camera:
“She wants to complain about the deed again.”
My face changed.
“The property thing?”
Gwen looked at me.
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
“Your mother transferred it.”
Mom immediately said:
“Temporary.”
Gwen continued.
“The title company called me.”
Mom:
“Because she confused them.”
Gwen:
“I didn’t sign the deed.”
The room where I watched the recording disappeared.
I remembered hearing that sentence.
Not clearly.
But I remembered.
My voice from the laptop:
“What do you mean you didn’t sign?”
Gwen:
“I mean I never signed anything giving the lot away.”
Mom:
“Gavin, we discussed this.”
Me:
“I signed the construction authorization.”
Mom:
“Exactly.”
Gwen:
“That isn’t the deed.”
I watched myself rub my face.
Tired.
Annoyed.
Not cruel.
Worse.
Impatient.
“Can we not do this on Christmas?”
Gwen stared at the screen.
“Gavin.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong.”
“You’re not listening.”
“I’m working seventy hours a week.”
Mom said softly:
“See?”
Gwen looked toward her.
Then back at me.
“I need you to call the title company.”
I sighed.
“I will.”
“When?”
“When everything opens after Christmas.”
“You said that last week about the bank.”
My expression hardened.
“There’s always something.”
Gwen went quiet.
I said:
“That came out wrong.”
Mom stepped closer to the laptop.
“She’s been like this for months.”
Gwen:
“Stop.”
Mom:
“She thinks everyone is stealing.”
Gwen:
“Because money is missing.”
Mom laughed.
“Here we go.”
I watched my own face close.
The face Gwen must have remembered during every locked night.
I said:
“Gwen, I’m sending everything I can.”
“I know.”
“Then if Mom says construction costs are high, they’re high.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I can’t audit the house from Canada.”
That sentence.
The man watching from the conference room wanted to reach through the screen and shake the man on it.
Gwen whispered:
“I’m not asking you to audit anything.”
“What are you asking?”
“Believe me.”
Silence.
On the video, I looked at Mom.
Not Gwen.
Mom saw it.
She moved beside the laptop.
“Enough. He needs rest.”
Gwen reached for the computer.
Mom pulled it away.
I said:
“Don’t fight.”
Gwen froze.
“What?”
“Both of you.”
Both.
I had turned a warning into a disagreement.
Mom smiled.
“We love you.”
I answered:
“Love you too.”
Then looked past her.
“Gwen?”
She stood in the background.
“I love you.”
Her face changed.
She whispered:
“Okay.”
Not I love you too.
Okay.
The call ended.
Nobody spoke in Sarah’s conference room.
Gwen had chosen to watch after all.
She sat beside me.
Paige sat across the room with her attorney.
Mom sat beside hers.
The video was being used in the civil evidentiary hearing because it showed Mom knew Gwen disputed the deed long before the recent ratification attempts.
It also showed something else.
She did not have to fully silence Gwen.
She only had to keep me tired enough to doubt her.
The judge asked Sarah to continue.
Another clip.
Recorded after the call.
I was gone from the screen.
Mom set the laptop on the table.
Gwen stood in front of her.
“You heard him.”
Gwen said nothing.
Mom continued.
“He trusts me.”
Gwen:
“For now.”
Mom laughed.
“He always will.”
Gwen:
“No.”
Mom stepped closer.
“What are you going to do?”
“Keep copies.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
Mom’s expression changed.
That was the moment the conflict shifted.
Not when I left for Canada.
Not when the deed was forged.
When Gwen refused to accept that my trust in Mom was permanent.
Paige’s voice came from behind the camera.
“Mom, leave her alone.”
My sister had once said that.
Before she became an active participant.
Mom answered:
“She needs to understand.”
Gwen:
“I understand you perfectly.”
The video ended.
The judge called a recess.
In the hallway, Mom approached before her attorney could stop her.
“Gavin.”
I turned.
“You saw.”
“Yes.”
“I was trying to keep you from worrying.”
I almost laughed.
“You were stealing our property.”
“I was building your house.”
“You forged her name.”
“I did what contractors told me.”
“You practiced her signature.”
“That was Paige.”
Paige stood twenty feet away.
Her face hardened.
“Don’t.”
Mom turned.
“You took the pictures.”
“I didn’t forge the first deed.”
“You helped with everything else.”
Paige’s attorney grabbed her arm.
“Stop talking.”
Too late emotionally.
Maybe not legally.
Mom looked at Gwen.
“You poisoned both of them against me.”
Gwen did not flinch.
For the first time since I came home, she looked taller than my mother.
“No.”
She lifted her cap from her head.
Her new hair was maybe half an inch long.
Soft.
Uneven.
Visible.
“You did that yourself.”
Mom stared at her.
The hallway went silent.
Then Sarah came through the courtroom door.
“We’re back.”
Inside, the final evidence was admitted.
Not the Christmas call.
Not Dad’s letter.
Paige’s first shaving video.
The judge needed to determine whether Gwen’s alleged signatures and later refusals occurred under coercive circumstances connected to the property dispute.
The screen showed Gwen in the chair.
Long hair falling onto the tile.
Mom filming.
Paige holding the clippers.
The ratification deed on the counter.
Mom’s recorded voice:
SIGN IT AND THIS STOPS.
Nobody in the courtroom moved.
The final strand of Gwen’s hair fell.
Then the video captured something I had never heard because I had stopped it earlier.
Paige whispered:
“Mom, what if Gavin comes home?”
Margaret answered immediately.
“He won’t.”
Paige:
“How do you know?”
May you like
My mother laughed.
“Because he already chose me once.”
