Chapter 5 - The Realtor At The Door
The doorbell rang again twenty minutes later.
This time, it really was the realtor.
Susan Webb stood outside with a tablet and a measuring device.
“I have a ten-thirty walk-through?”
Greg tried to step outside with her.
I stopped him.
“No. Let her in.”
“Mom.”
“I want to hear what she was told.”
Susan immediately realized she had entered the wrong kind of appointment.
She looked at Greg.
“I can reschedule.”
“You’re already here,” I said. “Who asked you to come?”
Susan hesitated.
“Mr. Lawson.”
Greg’s last name.
I nodded.
“And what did he tell you?”
“That the property would likely be available for listing soon.”
“Whose property?”
She glanced at Greg.
“He indicated it was family property under transition.”
Emily folded her arms.
“Did he represent himself as an owner?”
Susan became very careful.
“I don’t handle title verification until a formal listing agreement. This was only an initial valuation appointment.”
Fair answer.
I looked at Greg.
“Were you preparing to list my house?”
“I was gathering information.”
“Without telling me.”
“You kept refusing every conversation.”
“I said no. That was the conversation.”
Dana suddenly stepped in.
“You told me we could make an offer on the townhouse once this place sold.”
Greg looked at her.
“Not now.”
I turned toward Dana.
“What townhouse?”
Her expression hardened.
A property near a private lake thirty minutes away.
Three bedrooms.
Finished lower level.
Greg and Dana had placed a reservation deposit.
They planned to purchase after my house sold.
“And where was I supposed to go?”
Dana looked uncomfortable now.
“The lower level is very nice.”
Emily stared.
“You planned to move Grandma into your basement?”
“It’s a walkout level.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because Dana seemed to believe architecture was the objection.
Greg said, “You can’t maintain this place forever.”
“I don’t have to.”
“You need help.”
“I can hire help.”
“That costs money.”
“I have money.”
He stopped.
For months, he had described me as dependent without ever asking whether I actually was.
Arthur and I had saved carefully.
My income was modest, but adequate.
The house was paid off.
I was not rich.
I was not helpless either.
Susan quietly excused herself and left her card.
Once the door closed, I looked at Greg.
“I want you and Dana to move out.”
Dana laughed.
“You can’t just evict us.”
Emily answered calmly.
“No one is doing anything improperly. You’ll receive whatever notice is required.”
Greg looked at his daughter with pure resentment.
“You’ve been waiting for this.”
“No.”
Emily’s voice softened.
“I spent seven years not speaking to you. I wasn’t waiting for anything.”
That landed harder than anger.
Greg turned toward me.
“She has poisoned you against me.”
I looked at the suitcase.
“No. You packed that.”
May you like
He followed my eyes.
For once, there was no argument available.
