“And she paid the furnace company two days ago.”
Vanessa stared at me.
That was why Dad had been with me.
His furnace repair had been more expensive than expected.
I had paid the invoice before he could argue.
Not because I wanted the house.
Not because I expected repayment.
Because he was my father and he needed heat.
Dad looked at Vanessa.
“You decided proximity entitled you to everything.”
Then he looked at Grant.
“And you decided my daughter’s resentment was something you could turn into property.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“You think you’re some rich old man? It’s one house and an old truck.”
Dad nodded.
“Exactly.”
That answer confused him.
Dad looked toward his house.
“You both embarrassed yourselves over something you never bothered to understand.”
He reached into the pocket of his robe coat and pulled out a folded sheet his attorney had emailed for him to print at my house before we left.
