“Good afternoon, Brandon.”

“Mom, our cards are being declined.”

“The trust cards?”

Silence.

That silence told me more than the question had.

“Mom, what is going on?”

“I suspended nonessential spending.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m reviewing it.”

His voice dropped.

“Is this because Brooke asked you to do laundry?”

I looked at Martin.

“No, Brandon. This is because I finally looked at the accounts.”

He said nothing.

“We’ll talk tonight.”

Then I hung up.

For the first time in fourteen months, I left Richard’s attorney’s office feeling like I had done something Richard would have recognized.

Not something kind.

Not something generous.

Something responsible.

“You Live in Mine”

When I got home, the laundry basket was outside my bedroom door.

Brooke had added a note.

WE NEED THESE DONE BY TOMORROW.

I took a picture.

Then I picked up the basket.

For one stupid second, my body turned automatically toward the laundry room.

Habit.

Instead, I carried it upstairs.

Voices were coming from the living room.

Brooke’s parents had arrived early.

Her mother, Diane, was sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine. Her father, Charles, stood near the fireplace talking to Brandon.

Brooke saw the basket in my hands.

Her expression changed.

“What are you doing?”

I set it on the coffee table.

Diane looked from me to Brooke.

“Is something wrong?”

“Apparently Eleanor is upset about a misunderstanding,” Brooke said.

I reached into my purse and removed the account summary Martin had printed.

“It’s not a misunderstanding.”

Brandon stood.

“Mom, not now.”

I placed the pages beside the basket.

“Why not now?”

Brooke crossed her arms.

“Because my parents are here.”

“They were important enough for me to cancel my plans and clean for them.”

Diane slowly put down her wineglass.

Brandon rubbed his forehead.

“Can we please do this privately?”

I pointed to the first page.

“Did you spend trust money at Halston & Reed?”

Brooke looked at Brandon.

“What?”

“Three purchases.”

“Brandon told me that was household money.”

I turned the page.

“And the spa?”

She didn’t answer.

“The club?”

Brandon stepped closer.

“Mom.”

“The car?”

“Enough.”

That came from Brandon.

I looked at my son.

He had used that tone with me before.

Usually I stopped talking.

This time I didn’t.

“Who changed my email address on the trust account?”

His face went still.

Brooke looked at him.

“What is she talking about?”

“Nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing.”

I tapped the paperwork.

“Financial statements stopped coming to me because the account was changed to Brandon’s email.”

Charles cleared his throat.

“Maybe we should go.”

Brooke immediately shook her head.

“No. This is ridiculous.”

She looked at me.

“You live here too, Eleanor. We all benefit from the house.”

“That’s true.”

“Then why are you acting like we’re stealing from you?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

Brooke’s face was flushed now.

“We’ve built our life here. This is our home.”

I picked up the trust document Martin had given me.

“It’s your home.”

She seemed relieved for half a second.

Then I continued.

“It isn’t your house.”

Brooke stared at me.

“Excuse me?”

I placed the document on the table.

“The Bennett Family Living Trust owns this house.”

Brandon looked away.

That was when I knew Brooke didn’t understand the arrangement either.

She turned toward him.

“Brandon?”

He said nothing.

I looked at her.

“And I am the sole acting trustee.”

Her eyes came back to mine.

“So what exactly are you saying?”

I looked at the laundry basket between us.

Then at the room Richard’s money had helped buy.

“I’m saying you don’t get to order me around in my own home.”

Brooke opened her mouth.

I didn’t raise my voice.

“No, Brooke. You live in mine.”

Nobody spoke.

I reached into my purse one more time.

Martin had prepared two copies.

One for Brandon.

One for Brooke.

I placed them beside the laundry.

“These are notices ending your current residency arrangement.”

Brandon picked his up.

His face drained.

“Sixty days?”

“Yes.”

“Mom, you’re throwing us out?”

“I’m giving two healthy adults sixty days to find somewhere else to live.”

Brooke looked at me as if I had become a stranger.

Maybe I had.

Or maybe she was finally meeting the woman who had been standing in front of her the whole time.

Brandon followed me toward the hallway.

“Mom. Wait.”

I stopped.

He lowered his voice.

“We can fix this.”

“Good.”

He looked relieved.

I nodded toward the papers.

“Start with the accounts.”

Then I went downstairs.

The laundry basket stayed upstairs.

At 11:42 that night, my phone lit up with a security alert.

Someone inside the house had tried to reset the password to the trust account.

And the next morning, Martin called me before I had even finished my coffee.

“Eleanor, Brandon contacted the trust administrator yesterday.”

I put my mug down.

“About what?”

Martin was quiet for a moment.

“He asked what would be required to remove a trustee who may no longer be financially competent.”

I looked toward the ceiling.

My son was somewhere upstairs.

“He said your grief may be affecting your judgment.”

The washing machine clicked off in the room beside me.

For several seconds, the entire downstairs went silent.

Then I asked Martin one question.

“Can he do it?”

“Not because he’s angry that you stopped paying his bills.”

I stood up.

“Good.”

This time, I didn’t wait for Brandon to come downstairs.

I went up to find him.

The Debt I Had Been Paying Without Knowing It

Brandon was in the kitchen with Brooke when I walked in.

He was still wearing the gray T-shirt he slept in.

Brooke had her phone in one hand.

Neither of them looked surprised to see me.

“You tried to reset my trust password.”

Brandon’s eyes shifted toward Brooke.

“I was trying to see what you’d frozen.”

“Then you called the administrator.”

He said nothing.

“And told them I might be incompetent.”

Brooke slowly lowered her phone.