Brenda stared at him.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No. I am reminding you that Arthur made extensive preparations specifically because he anticipated a challenge.”
“What preparations?”
Samuel looked at me, then at Brenda.
“That information will be provided if legally necessary.”
Brenda stood.
“Then make it necessary.”
That was the beginning.
For the first week, my mother called constantly.
Morning.
Lunch.
Evening.
Sometimes after midnight.
Her demand was simple.
Sell Cedar Lake.
Divide the $900,000 equally.
That meant $450,000 for Chloe.
I pointed out that Chloe had already inherited approximately $95,000.
Brenda called that “symbolic.”
I reminded her that Grandpa had deliberately left the house to me.
She called the will “patriarchal.”
She accused Grandpa of valuing “masculine labor” over Chloe’s education.
She said I already had a successful construction company and therefore needed the inheritance less.
“You can replace money,” she said.
“Chloe can’t.”
“That makes no sense.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“No, I actually don’t.”
“You’re established.”
“So I should lose what Grandpa left me because my life is stable?”
“You should help your sister.”
“I am willing to help her.”
“With crumbs.”
That word became one of Brenda’s favorites.
Everything below $450,000 was crumbs.
I offered Chloe unlimited vacations at the house.
Crumbs.
I offered to pay airfare.
Crumbs.
I offered to let her hold her future wedding there.
Crumbs.
I offered to pay off the highest-interest portion of her credit-card debt from my own money.
Crumbs.
Later, I offered $10,000 toward a future home purchase.
Still crumbs.
Extended family got recruited.
At Sunday dinner, Aunt Valerie pointed a fork at me.
“You always were Arthur’s favorite.”
“That isn’t my fault.”
“You benefited from it.”
Uncle Greg said:
“Family property should stay family property.”
“It is staying family property.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. What you mean is that Chloe should receive half.”
“It would be fair.”
“To whom?”
Nobody liked that question.
Eventually Chloe started participating more directly.
At first, she was subtle.
“You’re so lucky.”
“I can’t imagine having a nine-hundred-thousand-dollar asset dropped in my lap.”
“I guess Grandpa just valued some relationships differently.”
Then came:
“If you sold it, both of us could have life-changing money.”
Finally:
“You know Mom isn’t completely wrong.”
Maya watched me deteriorate.
One night in our apartment, she closed my laptop.
“You are trying to negotiate with people who believe compromise means you give them what they demanded.”
“They’re my family.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to lose Chloe.”
Maya’s expression softened.
“Then don’t.”
“How?”
“You can’t control whether Chloe chooses a relationship with you or a claim against you.”
That sentence made me angry because it was true.
Then Chloe called crying.
For nearly two hours, we talked.
She admitted the will hurt.