Chapter 2 - NANA EXPECTED THEM TO DO IT
Raymond Cole looked miserable when we arrived.
Mom looked furious.
Paige looked confident.
That confidence lasted about four minutes.
Claire and I sat on one side of the conference table.
Mom and Paige sat across from us with their attorney.
Caleb stayed with my friend Rachel.
I refused to make him sit through another adult performance about whether he belonged.
Raymond placed Nana’s sealed instruction letter on the table.
Mom immediately said:
“That isn’t legally binding.”
Raymond nodded.
“Possibly not by itself.”
Paige smiled.
Then Raymond continued:
“But it instructs me regarding my duties as temporary estate administrator.”
Her smile disappeared.
He explained that Nana had anticipated conflict.
Not generally.
Specifically.
She feared Mom and Paige would attempt to force me out after her death.
I looked at Mom.
She would not meet my eyes.
Raymond read part of the letter:
Nelly has given more time and care than anyone should ever have to give without protection. If they wait until I am gone to tell her she has no place here, assume greed has overcome decency.
Mom snapped:
“She was sick when she wrote that.”
Raymond looked at her.
“It was written eighteen months before her final illness.”
Silence.
Then Paige leaned forward.
“We still have the signed agreement.”
Claire finally spoke.
“Yes.”
Paige tapped the paper.
“Nelly relinquished any claim to the house.”
“No.”
Claire slid a copy toward her.
“She relinquished only whatever your document lawfully covered, and expressly refused to waive rights arising under a will, trust, deed, or estate instrument.”
Paige stared at my handwritten sentence.
I watched recognition arrive.
She had shoved the pen toward me.
She had watched me write.
She had simply never bothered to read what I added.
Mom whispered:
“You tricked us.”
That made me laugh.
“I wrote it directly beside my name.”
Paige’s attorney closed his eyes.
Raymond continued.
“The larger problem is that the house should not have been listed for sale.”
Mom stiffened.
“What?”
“It remains potentially subject to probate.”
“We own it.”
“That has not been established.”
Mom’s voice rose.
“My mother told us the house was ours.”
Raymond looked toward me.
“Did she tell you that?”
“No.”
“What did she tell you?”
I took out Nana’s parchment.
Mom recognized the handwriting instantly.
Her face changed.
I handed it to Raymond.
He read.
Then looked up sharply.
“The tin?”
“Yes.”
“Still in the house?”
“As far as I know.”
Mom crossed her arms.
“That tin contains recipes.”
Paige added:
“And junk.”
Raymond stared at both of them.
“Then neither of you should object to preserving it.”
They said nothing.
That silence told him enough.
Raymond immediately contacted the real-estate agent.
The sale was paused.
No showings.
No removal of contents.
No destruction.
Then he drafted a request for a court-supervised inventory.
Mom exploded.
“You’re letting her hold up everything over an old cookie tin?”
Raymond’s voice stayed calm.
“No, Linda. Your mother’s letter is holding up everything.”
There.
My mother had a name now in the fight.
Linda Marshall.
Daughter of Eleanor “Nana” Marshall.
Paige leaned toward me.
“You always do this.”
“What?”
“Turn everything into proof you’re the victim.”
I stared at her.
“You printed a document excluding me and my child from the family on Christmas.”
Her jaw tightened.
“That was Mom’s idea.”
Mom whipped toward her.
“Excuse me?”
Interesting.
Cracks already.
Then Raymond said:
“There’s another issue.”
He pulled out a bank statement.
Nana’s estate account.
Two withdrawals had occurred after her death.
$18,000.
Then $32,000.
Authorized by Mom under an old power of attorney.
Claire immediately looked at Raymond.
“A power of attorney ends at death.”
“Yes.”
Mom went pale.
“I didn’t know.”
Maybe.
Then Raymond said:
“The bank reversed one transfer. The other has already cleared.”
“Where?”
He looked at Paige.
“Into an account in your name.”
Paige stopped moving.
I stared.
“How much?”
“Thirty-two thousand.”
She swallowed.
“It was for funeral expenses.”
The funeral had cost less than twelve.
Raymond knew it.
So did I.
Then Claire asked:
“Where’s the rest?”
Paige’s face hardened.
“It’s none of her business.”
Raymond answered:
May you like
“It is now.”
And suddenly the Christmas agreement was no longer the only document everyone needed to explain.
