“Arthur didn’t leave this house to David,” I said. “Arthur and I owned it together. After he died, I became its sole owner.”
David gave an irritated sigh.
“We know that.”
“Then you also know you have no authority to sell it.”
“Mom, nobody’s selling anything without discussing it with you.”
I looked at Brooke’s folder.
“Then why did your wife arrange an appraisal last Thursday?”
Brooke’s expression tightened.
“How do you know about that?”
“Because the appraiser called me to confirm access.”
David looked at his wife.
That surprised me.
Apparently, even he hadn’t known everything.
Brooke recovered quickly.
“We were exploring options. You can’t maintain a property this size forever.”
“I’ve maintained it for forty-six years.”
“You’re seventy-three.”
“Yes. And apparently that makes me old enough to eat from a dog bowl but too old to own a house.”
George cleared his throat.
“David, perhaps you ought to apologize to your mother.”
David glared at him.
“Uncle George, this doesn’t concern you.”
George slowly put down his fork.
“I’ve known your mother since she was nineteen. I’ll decide what concerns me.”
Brooke turned her phone toward him.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
I looked at her.
“Are you still recording?”
She hesitated.
“No.”
