“”Mom, I need a favor.””
I immediately asked what had happened.
He explained that several projects had fallen behind schedule, and his business needed additional financing.
He wanted me to use the house as collateral for a loan.
I refused.
Not because I didn’t care about him.
But because Richard and I had spent decades paying off that property, and I wasn’t willing to risk losing it.
“”Michael, I can help you in other ways, but I won’t mortgage this house.””
His voice changed immediately.
“”So you’re just going to let my business collapse?””
“”I didn’t say that.””
“”You’re sitting on a million-dollar property while your own son is struggling.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“”This is my home.””
He ended the call.
For three weeks, I heard nothing from him.
Then Vanessa appeared on my doorstep.
She brought flowers and a box of expensive chocolates.
She sat at my kitchen table, spoke softly, and told me she wanted to clear the air.
“”We’ve been thinking about your future,”” she said.
I placed my teacup down.
“”My future?””
“”Yes. You shouldn’t have to worry about maintaining this enormous property. Michael and I could help you find a lovely retirement community.””
I stared at her.
“”I’m not moving.””
She smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
“”Nobody is asking you to make a decision today.””
Yet she had already brought brochures.
Several of them.
They were arranged neatly inside a folder beside my coffee cup.
