Chapter 9 - THE REASON MOM NEEDED PAIGE TO NEED HER
Mom asked me to meet without Paige.
I almost refused.
Then agreed to one hour.
Public café.
No estate documents.
No money.
Just us.
She looked older.
“I’m in therapy.”
That surprised me.
“Okay.”
“My therapist says I confuse being needed with being loved.”
I said nothing.
She continued.
“When you were little, you needed me.”
“All children do.”
“You stopped sooner than Paige.”
I almost laughed.
“I got a job at fourteen because you said we couldn’t afford school clothes.”
She looked down.
“I know.”
“Paige got new dance costumes.”
“I know.”
There it was.
No defense.
Then:
“When you solved your own problems, I told myself you were strong.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It was convenient.”
Exactly.
Strength became the excuse for giving less.
Need became the reason for giving more.
Then eventually, Paige learned to remain in crisis.
And I learned to stop asking.
Mom cried.
“I didn’t realize what I was teaching both of you.”
That was probably true.
Then she said:
“The Christmas agreement was my idea.”
“I know.”
“But not the family-exclusion sentence.”
“I know.”
“I wanted you to waive the house because I was afraid if you inherited it, Paige would lose everything.”
I stared.
“She had already told you about the lender?”
“Yes.”
There.
Mom knew about Paige’s debt before Christmas.
Not the full amount.
Enough.
“So you chose her creditor over me.”
Mom flinched.
“I chose the daughter I thought was in danger.”
“And what did you think I was?”
She looked at me.
“Safe.”
I nodded slowly.
“That is the word everyone keeps using.”
Then:
“Do you understand how cruel it becomes when safety means everyone is allowed to take from you?”
She cried.
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Then Mom told me something I did not know.
Nana had confronted her months before death.
“She said if I used your strength against you one more time, she would change everything.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“I got angry.”
“About what?”
“Nana paid for Caleb’s summer program.”
$1,200.
Mom objected because Paige needed help with private-school tuition.
Nana said:
Nelly’s child is allowed to receive something without Paige getting an equal or larger amount.
That sentence started a three-week fight.
Then Nana changed executor.
Mom knew exactly why.
She just never told me.
Then Mom asked:
“Do you think we can ever have Christmas again?”
I thought of Caleb crying against me.
Not this year.
“Maybe someday.”
She nodded.
No demand.
Good.
Then Paige’s bankruptcy process began.
The Lexus disappeared.
Private school changed.
House sold.
Not because I caused it.
Because debt finally met reality.
Paige blamed me for about six weeks.
Then apparently her counselor asked:
“If Nelly handed you the house tomorrow, would your financial habits change?”
She stopped calling me after that.
Maybe thinking.
Then Trent filed for legal separation.
I felt sad.
Not responsible.
Another important distinction.
Months passed.
The house renovations began.
Not luxury.
Necessary.
Nana’s room became a reading room.
I kept her chair.
Caleb chose blue paint for his bedroom.
Then one afternoon, the probate attorney called.
A creditor had challenged Nana’s estate plan.
Not Paige’s lender.
A different claim.
Someone said Nana owed them $480,000.
Who?
A man named Harold Pike.
I knew that name.
Nana’s former business partner.
May you like
The man she had not spoken to in twenty years.
He claimed the house was partly his.
