“I don’t want everything from when he was alive to disappear.”
My anger softened slightly.
Thomas had been gone for five years.
Madison had never spoken much about losing him.
She’d thrown herself into work, married Evan, and tried to build a busy life.
I hadn’t realized how desperately she was holding on to the house.
But grief didn’t excuse what she’d done.
“Sweetheart,” I said, “selling this property doesn’t erase your father.”
She shook her head.
“It feels like it does.”
I looked toward the lake.
For years, I’d felt the same way.
I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else sleeping in our bedroom or sitting at Thomas’s favorite spot on the deck.
Yet that was exactly what had happened while I was paying to preserve the property.
“Madison, I can’t keep this place just because we miss him.”
She looked down.
I continued.
“The roof needs work. The insurance keeps increasing. The taxes aren’t getting smaller. And every year, I spend money maintaining a house I visit less often.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“Then why didn’t you let us help?”
I stared at her.
“Because you didn’t offer to help with the expenses. You offered to decide what happened to the property.”
She had no answer.
A moment later, Evan entered carrying Richard’s laptop.
“Diane, you need to see this.”
He set it on the dining table.
Richard followed, visibly irritated.
“Those are private business records.”
Evan looked at him.
“They involve her house.”
