Hand over the keys, Mom. Dad would’ve wanted the house to go to someone

Ethan laughed. “Sure? Mom, you can barely work the microwave. Brittany and I will take the house, sell it, put you somewhere manageable. A studio. It’s kinder this way.” Brittany nodded like she was doing me a favor. I set my purse on the counter, the same counter where I’d taught Ethan to crack eggs when he was four. Then I walked to the hallway and pulled a slim leather folder from the drawer under the phone. Robert had left it there three weeks before the stroke. “Your father gave me something the morning he went to the hospital,” I said. “He told me, ‘Maggie, if Ethan ever speaks to you the way I’m afraid he will, open this in front of everyone.'” The room went still. I slid the folder onto the dining table. Inside was the deed, retitled six months ago into a living trust in my name only, and beneath it, a letter in Robert’s handwriting. I read it aloud. “Ethan, I watched you stop calling your mother the year you married Brittany. I watched you bill us for the airport rides. I changed the will the day you told me her cooking embarrassed you at Thanksgiving. The house, the cabin, the bonds, all of it stays with your mother. When she passes, it goes to your sister Hannah, who answered every one of my calls.” Brittany’s chardonnay glass hit the floor. Ethan’s face drained. “That’s not legal, she manipulated him, she—” My lawyer, Aunt Diane’s son, stepped forward from the corner where I’d asked him to wait. “It’s airtight, Ethan. Your father recorded the signing. I have the video.” I picked up my purse again. “You wanted the keys,” I said quietly. “Here’s one.” I placed a single key on the table. “It’s to the studio apartment your father owned on Pine Street. The rent’s eleven hundred a month. You can mail the check to me.” Ethan opened his mouth. Nothing came out. I walked past him, past Brittany sobbing into a napkin, and I sat down at my husband’s chair at the head of the table. “Someone pass me the casserole,” I said. “I’m finally hungry.”