Chapter 4 - The Money Nobody Remembered
I spent the next four hours going through bank statements.
Rebecca was right.
There was the furnace replacement.
$6,840.
A sewer emergency.
$3,960.
Emergency roof work.
$4,300.
A tenant relocation after water damage.
$2,700.
Smaller purchases filled the rest.
My parents had promised to reimburse me each time.
Then another crisis happened.
Then another.
I stopped asking.
That realization embarrassed me almost as much as Christmas morning.
Denton sat beside me.
“They owe you $18,472.”
“Yes.”
“And they gave your daughter one dollar.”
I closed my eyes.
When my phone came back on, there were twenty-seven messages.
My father’s tone changed as the day went on.
9:12 A.M.
Call me.
10:04 A.M.
This is childish.
11:31 A.M.
The Hanover tenant needs heat.
12:15 P.M.
I don’t have the plumber’s direct number.
It was in the transition document.
1:08 P.M.
Your mother is very upset.
2:46 P.M.
You are punishing innocent tenants.
That one made me angry.
I immediately called the Hanover tenant.
“Mr. Powell, did someone handle the boiler?”
“Your dad finally called the heating company.”
“Good.”
“I thought you were still managing.”
“I’m not.”
There was a pause.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“You were the only person who ever answered.”
That sentence followed me all evening.
The tenants were not the enemy.
So I sent every household a professional notice explaining that all management questions must now go directly to the owners.
I included emergency service numbers.
I gave them Rebecca’s office for accounting issues.
Everything was responsible.
Everything was documented.
My parents could not claim I had abandoned people.
At seven that evening, someone knocked.
Denton opened the door.
Margot stood outside.
She did not say hello.
“What are you doing?”
I almost admired the confidence.
“Making dinner.”
“You know what I mean.”
She walked inside without being invited.
“Dad has been on the phone all day.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“Karen.”
“What?”
“You can’t just quit.”
“Yes, I can.”
“They depend on you.”
I stared at her.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Yesterday, Mom explained very clearly who counts as family.”
Margot rolled her eyes.
“This is about the check?”
“No.”
“This is about my daughter asking me what she had done to deserve humiliation.”
“It was stupid.”
“Stupid?”
“Mom was making some weird point.”
“What point?”
Margot looked away.
That was when I knew.
“You knew.”
She did not answer.
May you like
“You knew what was inside Willa’s envelope.”
Her silence answered for her.
