Chapter 10 - The Visit
Adult Protective Services arrived before breakfast.
The woman in the brown coat introduced herself as Celia Grant. A deputy stood behind her on the porch, one hand resting near his radio.
“We received a report concerning Evelyn Bell,” Celia said.
“From whom?” I asked.
“We do not disclose that.”
“You can guess,” Diane said from the foyer.
She stood with her arms folded, watching the deputy watch me.
Grandma came from the parlor with her walker. “Celia, you can come in.”
The visit lasted two hours. Celia asked about medication, food, falls, finances, and family conflict. She asked whether Diane prevented Grandma from leaving the house. She asked whether I had threatened my mother.
“No,” I said.
“Have you shouted?”
“Yes.”
“At Evelyn?”
“No.”
“At Diane?”
“Yes.”
Grandma looked at me. “Honesty is important.”
“I’m noticing.”
Celia examined the refrigerator, the bathroom rails, and the pill organizer. She found no immediate danger. Then she asked to speak with Grandma privately.
Diane objected. “She is recovering.”
“That is why I need to speak with her.”
“I am her caregiver.”
“You are also a person named in the report.”
Diane’s face flushed.
Grandma followed Celia into the study. The door closed.
“Your mother made the report,” I said.
“You cannot prove that.”
“You told Celia where the missing medication was.”
“Because I found it.”
“And you told her I had been asking about the deed.”
“You have.”
“You told her I was trying to isolate Grandma from you.”
Diane’s voice dropped. “You brought a lawyer into this house.”
“He is not my lawyer.”
“You have known him since childhood.”
“So have you.”
“Jonah has always hated me.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the study door. “Because his father helped Mercer buy the first parcel.”
“You knew that?”
“Everyone knew.”
“Grandma didn’t.”
“Your grandmother knew more than anyone.”
The study door opened. Celia emerged with a notebook in hand.
“Evelyn would like Mara to remain in the house,” she said. “She does not want a temporary placement.”
Diane’s shoulders lowered slightly.
“But,” Celia continued, “I am concerned about the financial pressure surrounding tomorrow’s transaction. Evelyn should not sign any documents without independent counsel and a capacity assessment.”
“She has both,” I said.
“Then keep the appointments.”
“Can Diane sign for her?”
Celia looked at my mother. “Not if the authority is disputed.”
“It isn’t disputed,” Diane said.
“It is now.”
The deputy stepped onto the porch. Celia followed, then turned back to Grandma.
“If anyone tries to move you against your wishes, call the number on my card.”
“I have no intention of being moved.”
“Good.”
When they left, Diane shut the door with great care.
“You did this,” she said to me.
“You called them.”
“I called because you were agitating her.”
“You wanted a report that would make me look dangerous.”
“I wanted someone neutral to see what is happening.”
“Then why did you tell them about the sale?”
“Because it is happening.”
Grandma tapped her walker against the floor. “The sale is not happening.”
“Mother, please.”
“No. You brought the state into my house. You wanted witnesses. Now listen to one.”
Diane looked at her.
“I will not sign,” Grandma said. “You will not sign for me. And you will not move me to a place I have not chosen.”
“If Mercer forecloses—”
“Then we fight.”
“With what money?”
“With the money I have.”
“You don’t have enough.”
“I have enough to hire a lawyer.”
“And after that?”
“I will decide.”
Diane laughed, but tears had gathered in her eyes. “You always decide after everyone else has paid.”
She went upstairs.
Grandma watched her leave. “That was not how I hoped it would go.”
“You hoped she would confess.”
“I hoped she would ask for help.”
“She did.”
“No. She demanded rescue.”
Grandma lowered herself into a chair.
“There is a difference.”
I sat beside her. “What happens if she signs tomorrow?”
“She cannot sign for me.”
“What if she does anyway?”
May you like
Grandma looked toward the locked study.
“Then we make sure the world knows whose hand moved the pen.”
