Chapter 7: Her Lawyer Found Something
Grace called the next morning.
Brandon took it in the room this time, on speaker, while I was feeding Noah.
He didn't ask if that was all right.
He just set the phone on the table between us and pressed the button.
"Kimberly's attorney contacted me at eight this morning," Grace said.
"They're not disputing the loan document."
"That's good," Brandon said.
"It's not entirely good.
They've agreed to fixed terms, no conditions.
But they're attaching a clause." A pause.
"They want visitation rights formalized.
Specifically, guaranteed access to Noah on a defined schedule, with language that limits your ability to restrict contact without a court order."
The room was quiet except for Noah.
"She wants it in the contract," I said.
"Her attorney is framing it as a goodwill gesture.
Protecting the grandmother-grandchild relationship." Grace's voice was careful.
"It's not unusual in family financial arrangements.
But given what we know about the email, I want you to understand what it means in practice.
If you sign it and later try to limit her access, she can take you to court and point to this agreement."
"She's using the loan to buy herself into his life," Brandon said.
"That's one way to read it."
I looked at Noah.
He had fallen asleep mid-feed, his cheek against me, completely trusting.
"What's our position?" I said.
"You can reject the clause outright.
They may walk away from the whole agreement, which means you refinance and they lose the leverage of the loan.
Or—" Grace paused.
"I can counter with a clause of our own.
One that makes any visitation contingent on a signed acknowledgment of the email and its contents."
"She'd never sign that," Brandon said.
"No.
But it changes the negotiation.
It puts the email back on the table formally, which her attorney will not want.
It may be enough to make them drop the visitation clause entirely."
Brandon looked at me.
"Do it," I said.
"I'll send the counter this afternoon," Grace said.
"One more thing.
The consultant — the one she hired.
I did some background on him.
He lost his license eighteen months ago.
Unrelated matter, but it means he has limited ability to push back if this becomes public.
He may actually want to cooperate, to get ahead of it."
"Have you contacted him?" Brandon asked.
"Not yet.
I wanted your permission first."
"You have it," I said.
Grace ended the call.
Brandon picked up the phone and set it in his pocket.
He looked at me for a moment, then at Noah.
"She's not going to stop," he said.
"I know."
"Even if Grace wins this round, she'll find another angle."
"I know that too."
He sat on the edge of the bed.
"I keep thinking about the waiting room.
The morning of the second round.
She offered to drive because I had that meeting." He stopped.
"She suggested I take that meeting.
Two weeks before.
She called my manager directly and said I'd been stressed and could use the distraction."
I looked at him.
"You never told me that."
"I didn't think anything of it at the time." His voice was flat.
"She planned it.
She made sure she was the one in that room with you."
I thought about Kimberly's hand over mine in the plastic chair.
The way she'd said, *Whatever happens, we'll get through it together.* The way she'd meant every word of it, in her own way, for her own reasons.
"She loved you," I said.
"In the way she was capable of.
That's almost the worst part."
"Don't make me feel sorry for her."
"I'm not." I shifted Noah carefully.
"I'm just saying it wasn't nothing.
It was something twisted into something else." I looked at him.
"Which means she'll believe, right up until the end, that she was right."
Brandon's phone buzzed.
He looked at it.
"Her attorney again," he said.
"Already."
He read the message.
His expression didn't change, but his hand tightened slightly on the phone.
"What?" I said.
He turned the screen toward me.
*My client has retained a family law specialist.
She intends to file for grandparent visitation rights as a separate legal action, independent of the loan agreement.
She wanted you to know before the counter-document is sent.*
I read it twice.
May you like
She wasn't negotiating anymore.
She was opening a second front.
