Chapter 14 - The Morning Appointment
At nine forty-five, Cal Mercer returned with Harold Pike.
Pike was a narrow man with white hair and a smile that seemed permanently attached to someone else’s face. He carried a briefcase and wore a gold tie pin shaped like a key.
“Mrs. Bell,” he said to Grandma, “I am sorry circumstances have become difficult.”
“Circumstances did not become difficult,” Grandma replied. “People made them difficult.”
Pike’s smile did not move. “We have a straightforward resolution.”
“Then you may explain it to my attorney.”
Lillian stepped forward. “Harold.”
Pike’s eyebrows rose. “Lillian Voss. I did not realize you were involved.”
“You will now.”
Mercer placed a packet on the table. “The purchase price covers the outstanding note, taxes, and a relocation reserve for Evelyn.”
“The reserve is held by your company,” I said.
He looked at me. “You must be Mara.”
“You know my name.”
“Your mother mentioned you.”
“What did she say?”
“That you were protective.”
“She used a different word.”
Mercer smiled. “Families often use several words for the same behavior.”
Grandma pointed to the packet. “Who prepared this?”
“Mr. Pike.”
“Who is buying the land?”
“Mercer Holdings.”
“The same company that lent the money?”
“A different subsidiary.”
“Convenient.”
Pike opened the packet. “The transaction is entirely lawful.”
“Then you will have no objection to postponing it until the title question is resolved,” Lillian said.
“The title question is not material.”
“It is material if the deed cannot convey marketable title.”
“The buyer accepts the risk.”
“The buyer is not accepting risk. The buyer is discounting the price.”
Mercer’s eyes moved to Diane. “Your mother may be advised by anyone she chooses. You, however, signed the note.”
“I know.”
“If you refuse to perform, I will exercise every remedy available.”
“Including foreclosure?”
“Including foreclosure.”
Grandma reached for the packet. Her fingers trembled only once.
“I will not sign.”
Pike turned to Diane. “Your authority permits you to act if the sale is necessary for her support.”
“It does not permit her to convey property subject to a disputed restriction,” Lillian said.
“That is a matter for a court.”
“Then take it to court.”
Pike’s face hardened. “Mrs. Bell, your granddaughter is inflaming a manageable situation.”
“My granddaughter is not my agent,” Grandma said. “Neither is my daughter.”
“You revoked the power?”
“Yes.”
“The revocation was not recorded.”
“It was delivered to your office.”
Pike glanced at Diane.
“Was it?”
Diane looked down.
“You received it,” Grandma said.
Pike closed the packet. “This conversation is no longer productive.”
“It became productive when you admitted receipt,” Lillian said.
Pike’s gold key caught the sunlight.
Mercer stood. “We will proceed tomorrow.”
“You cannot sell the house tomorrow,” I said.
“I am not selling the house. Your mother is.”
“Not with permission.”
He leaned toward me. “Permission is often a matter of timing.”
Then he and Pike left.
Diane remained by the table.
“Did you receive the revocation?” I asked.
She nodded.
“When?”
“The day before the clinic closed.”
“And you never told Grandma.”
“I was trying to save the clinic.”
“You let her believe you were still authorized.”
“I believed I was.”
“Even after the revocation?”
“Mother said she regretted it.”
Grandma looked at her. “I regretted trusting you.”
The words were cruel, but not false.
Diane flinched as though struck.
“I will get the records from the study,” she said.
“Why should we trust you?”
“You should not.”
She walked upstairs alone.
Lillian gathered the documents. “We need an emergency injunction.”
“Can we get one today?”
“If the judge sees enough evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“The revocation, the title restriction, the questionable guaranty, and proof that Mercer knew about all three.”
Jonah looked toward the ceiling. “And the historical records.”
From upstairs came the sound of a drawer opening, then Diane’s voice.
“Mother?”
Grandma gripped her walker.
“What is it?” I called.
May you like
Diane appeared at the top of the stairs, holding a yellow envelope.
“The records are gone.”
