My throat tightened.
“She paid for my hearing aids when insurance wouldn’t.”
Vanessa looked at me.
Dad continued.
“She flew back for my surgery.”
Then he said the part Vanessa did not know.
“And she paid the furnace company two days ago.”
Vanessa stared at me.
That was why Dad had been with me.
His furnace repair had been more expensive than expected.
I had paid the invoice before he could argue.
Not because I wanted the house.
Not because I expected repayment.
Because he was my father and he needed heat.
Dad looked at Vanessa.
“You decided proximity entitled you to everything.”
Then he looked at Grant.
“And you decided my daughter’s resentment was something you could turn into property.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“You think you’re some rich old man? It’s one house and an old truck.”
Dad nodded.
“Exactly.”
That answer confused him.
Dad looked toward his house.
“You both embarrassed yourselves over something you never bothered to understand.”
He reached into the pocket of his robe coat and pulled out a folded sheet his attorney had emailed for him to print at my house before we left.
Vanessa stared at it.
“What is that?”
“A summary of my current estate plan.”
Her face changed.
Dad had updated his will eighteen months earlier.
Neither Vanessa nor I knew the details.
He had done it after watching two friends’ children destroy each other over inheritance.
He had decided the house would not go directly to either daughter.
After his death, it was to be sold.
A portion would cover final expenses.
A portion would fund a small scholarship through the community college where our mother had once taught.
The remainder would be divided equally between Vanessa and me.
The truck was promised to Harold’s grandson, who had spent three summers helping Dad rebuild its engine.
Dad’s retirement accounts had named beneficiaries.
His checking balance was irrelevant compared to what Vanessa apparently imagined.
She stared at him.
“You were splitting it equally?”
“I was.”
The word was small.
But Vanessa heard the tense.
“Were?”
Dad looked at his attorney’s summary.
“I haven’t decided what changes I’m making.”
Her face collapsed.
“Dad.”
He folded the paper.
“What I know is that I will not reward anyone for rehearsing my death.”
Grant muttered, “This is because of Natalie.”
Dad turned so quickly that Grant stepped back.
