Chapter 5 - SIX WEEKS BEFORE THE FUNERAL
“Tell me that date is wrong.”
Daniel did not answer.
I stepped toward him.
“Tell me.”
“It isn’t wrong.”
Lauren gripped the back of Robert’s desk chair.
“You were negotiating the house while your father was still alive?”
Daniel looked exhausted.
“Dad’s doctors had already told us.”
“Told us what?”
“That he had weeks. Maybe a few months.”
The workshop went silent.
I could hear machinery humming downstairs.
Men and women were still working.
Still building dining tables, cabinets, custom staircases.
Life continuing beneath the room where my son was explaining how he had started planning around his father’s death.
I felt suddenly cold.
“Robert was still eating breakfast with me.”
“I know.”
“He was still sitting in the garden when the weather was good.”
“I know.”
“And you were calculating what his death would unlock?”
Daniel’s face crumpled.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?”
“My company was going under.”
“You keep saying that as if it changes what you did.”
“I had lenders calling every day. Contractors threatening lawsuits. I had personally guaranteed millions.”
“And your solution was my home.”
“I thought Dad had left it to me.”
“You knew there was another will.”
“I didn’t know exactly what it said.”
Arthur spoke.
“Because Robert would not show it to you.”
Daniel looked at him.
“He told me he changed things.”
“So you knew.”
“I knew he was angry.”
Lauren began pacing.
“Where was I when you signed this option?”
“At home.”
“You told me you were meeting Rivergate investors.”
“I was.”
“And a developer.”
She stopped.
“You lied even when there was no reason to lie.”
“There was a reason.”
“Because you knew I would hear how ugly it sounded.”
That landed.
Daniel lowered his head.
I looked at Arthur.
“Who is the developer?”
“Cross Development.”
I knew the name.
They had rebuilt several blocks downtown.
Not cheaply.
Not gently.
Old houses disappeared.
Luxury townhomes appeared.
Arthur made one phone call.
By late afternoon, Evelyn Cross herself came to the workshop.
She was in her late fifties, silver-haired, dressed in a navy suit and walking shoes.
Daniel stiffened when she entered.
“You shouldn’t be discussing this without counsel.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“I am discussing my company’s position with the lawful occupant of a property you represented as available.”
She turned to me.
“Mrs. Hayes, I’m sorry.”
I did not know what to do with an apology from a stranger.
“What were you told?”
“That Robert was terminally ill and had already settled the estate plan.”
My chest tightened.
Evelyn continued.
“We were told you intended to move into a retirement community after his death.”
Lauren closed her eyes.
“That’s what Daniel told me too.”
Evelyn glanced at her.
“He said the family agreed the house was too large.”
I looked at Daniel.
He stared at the floor.
Evelyn opened her tablet.
“The original option was signed six weeks before Mr. Hayes died. It did not transfer the property. It gave us a future right to purchase if Daniel acquired title under the older estate plan.”
Arthur nodded.
“That part is likely unenforceable now.”
“I agree.”
Daniel looked up sharply.
“You can’t just walk away.”
Evelyn’s expression remained calm.
“I can if the seller never obtains legal authority.”
“What about the deposit?”
“That is a separate matter.”
“How separate?”
“We advanced your company one hundred eighty thousand dollars based on representations in the option agreement.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“I made those representations in good faith.”
Evelyn looked at me.
“Did your mother agree to relocate?”
“No,” I said.
“Did you tell Daniel she had?”
Robert was dead.
But somehow the room still waited for his answer.
“No,” Daniel said.
Evelyn nodded.
“Then your definition of good faith and mine differ.”
He stepped forward.
“If you terminate now, Rivergate collapses.”
“I am not taking a sixty-eight-year-old widow’s home because you need liquidity.”
For one second, the entire story shifted again.
I had imagined the developer as another predator waiting to strip our property.
She wasn’t.
She had been lied to too.
Daniel had counted on everyone seeing only the part of the story he needed them to see.
To me, Willow Creek was already arranged.
To Lauren, I had agreed.
To Evelyn, Robert’s estate plan was settled.
To Steven Cole, apparently, the old will was the controlling document.
To his lenders, company accounts looked healthier than they were.
Every person had received a carefully edited Daniel.
Arthur asked, “When is repayment due?”
Evelyn looked at Daniel.
“Technically, ten business days after termination.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“There is no ten-business-day solution.”
“Then your attorneys should contact us.”
He turned to me.
“Do you see what’s happening?”
I almost admired the instinct.
Cornered from every direction, he still knew where to look for rescue.
His mother.
“Daniel.”
“If Cross pulls the option, Rivergate defaults. If Rivergate defaults, our lender can accelerate everything.”
“How much do you owe?”
“Enough.”
“That’s not a number.”
“Four-point-two million across active projects.”
Lauren grabbed the desk.
“What?”
“Most of it is secured by project assets.”
“Most?”
He didn’t answer.
She laughed once.
It sounded close to a sob.
“What did you secure the rest with?”
“The Aspen property.”
Her eyes widened.
“And?”
“Our house.”
Theirs.
Not mine.
Lauren sat down.
He continued.
“My retirement accounts are pledged too.”
“So sell everything.”
“There may still be a gap.”
“How large?”
Daniel looked at me.
“About two hundred and fifty thousand if Cross demands the deposit and Rivergate closes.”
I understood immediately.
He wanted me to offer.
Not the house now.
Cash.
A loan.
Another rescue.
Just like Robert.
I looked at the blue ledger.
My husband had spent his final year plugging holes behind our son.
Every rescue had been intended as a bridge.
Daniel had turned bridges into roads.
“No,” I said.
His face changed.
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were about to.”
“Mom, forty-two people work for me.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Forty-two?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
“Rivergate listed seventeen employees during due diligence.”
The room went quiet.
I stared at my son.
“You said forty-two families.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“It’s more complicated than a payroll list.”
Arthur picked up Robert’s ledger.
“Hayes Woodworks employs forty-two people.”
I looked toward the floor beneath us.
Forty-two.
Robert’s employees.
Not Daniel’s.
He had taken the number from his father’s company.
He knew I would recognize it.
He knew exactly which fear would hurt most.
I whispered, “You used your father’s workers to manipulate me.”
“No.”
“Then why forty-two?”
Daniel said nothing.
Lauren stared at him in disgust.
Evelyn closed her tablet.
“My company will issue formal termination tomorrow.”
Daniel’s face drained.
“Evelyn.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re destroying seventeen jobs.”
“No.”
Her voice stayed level.
“I am refusing to acquire a house from a man who does not own it.”
She left.
Daniel stood completely still.
Then he turned to me.
“Friday.”
“What?”
“If I can’t replace that one hundred eighty thousand and stabilize the lender by Friday, Rivergate misses payroll.”
May you like
He swallowed.
“And this time, the people who lose their jobs really do work for me.”
