My attorney, Miriam Feld, reviewed Gabriella’s listing agreement two days later.
She also helped me understand how to handle Michael and Vanessa’s living arrangements.
“They moved in with your permission,” she said. “That doesn’t give them ownership, but we need to respect the applicable occupancy requirements.”
“I don’t want to throw their belongings onto the sidewalk.”
“Good. Don’t change the locks, cut off services, or try to make the house unlivable. Let’s discuss a voluntary written departure agreement first.”
She asked whether I intended to sell regardless of what happened with Michael.
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
I nodded.
“I’ve wanted to downsize for more than a year. My knees hurt on the stairs. The property taxes are increasing, and the house needs more work than I want to manage.”
“Then separate the sale decision from the family dispute.”
I smiled faintly.
“Gabriella told me the same thing.”
“It’s useful advice.”
Miriam suggested putting my expectations in writing: respectful use of the house, no unauthorized changes to the bedrooms, reasonable arrangements for access and viewings, and a mutually agreed move-out date.
We would discuss the schedule with Michael and Vanessa rather than assume my original invitation allowed me to remove them overnight.
When I returned home, I found Vanessa in the living room measuring the space beside the fireplace.
“What are you doing?”
She looked up.
“Checking whether our sectional sofa would fit.”
“Why?”
“Our furniture is in storage. We might as well bring it here.”
I glanced at the tape measure in her hand.
“Vanessa, the house is going on the market.”
She snapped the tape shut.
“You haven’t signed anything yet.”
“I’m reviewing the listing agreement.”
“Then don’t.”
I set my handbag on the chair.
“I’ve made my decision.”
