Chapter 8 - PATRICIA FINALLY TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE THE FUNERAL
Two years after Dad died, Patricia asked to meet.
She looked nervous.
We sat in a bakery.
No lawyers.
She said:
“I need to tell you why Ethan announced the inheritance.”
I frowned.
“At the funeral?”
“Yes.”
“I assumed arrogance.”
“It was panic.”
Not better.
Different.
She explained.
The lender on one of Ethan’s business obligations had issued a demand notice two days before Dad’s funeral.
A large payment was due within ten days.
Ethan believed Dad’s estate would pass quickly because there was a will.
Wrong.
Probate is not a cash machine.
Patricia knew even less.
She had already toured the new house because a real-estate agent friend told her they could structure an offer contingent on proceeds.
Whose proceeds?
Mine.
Again.
Then, at the funeral, one of Ethan’s creditors attended.
A former client.
Ethan saw him.
Panicked.
Announced publicly that inheritance money was coming.
Essentially trying to reassure a creditor without saying so directly.
I stared.
“So my father’s funeral became a credit presentation.”
Patricia covered her face.
“When you say it like that…”
“How else should I say it?”
She lowered her hands.
“You’re right.”
Then:
“I encouraged him.”
“I know.”
“No.”
“You don’t.”
She swallowed.
“I told him if he said it publicly, you’d be less likely to refuse later.”
There.
That was new.
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because everyone would know.”
“Because I’d be embarrassed to contradict him.”
“Yes.”
I sat back.
That was manipulation.
Deliberate.
Not desperation alone.
Patricia cried.
“I’m sorry.”
I did not answer immediately.
Then:
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“I understand you better.”
Not the same.
She nodded.
Then:
“I don’t want to be the person I was that week.”
Good.
“What are you doing about it?”
She looked surprised.
Then smiled faintly.
“Still an accountant’s daughter.”
“Engineer’s daughter.”
“Close enough.”
Patricia had joined a financial counseling program through a community nonprofit.
She also volunteered with widows dealing with debt after a spouse’s death.
Not as expert.
As someone who had made mistakes.
Useful.
She said:
“I tell them the first rule is not to hide the mail.”
I smiled.
Dad might have approved.
Then she said:
“Ethan is dating someone.”
My chest reacted before my mind did.
Pain.
Tiny.
Unexpected.
“Okay.”
“You didn't ask.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“She knows everything.”
That mattered.
“Good.”
Patricia looked at me.
“You’re really okay?”
“No.”
Honest.
May you like
“But I will be.”
And I was.
