Chapter 7: What Dad Did
I asked him to come to Jenna's house.
He arrived forty minutes later, still in his work jacket, his hair not quite combed.
He looked older than the last time I had seen him in person.
He looked like a man who had not been sleeping.
He saw the box on the table and stopped walking.
"Where did that come from?" he said.
"Grandpa left it with Jenna," I said.
"He addressed it to me."
Dad sat down slowly.
He didn't touch the box.
He looked at it the way you look at something you already know is going to change things.
"Did you know about the account?" I asked.
A long pause.
"Not until after he passed," Dad said.
"He left me a separate letter.
Shorter than yours, I imagine." He rubbed his face with both hands.
"He told me what she had done.
He told me he had forgiven her.
He asked me to watch over you."
"And?"
"And I tried." His voice was quiet and worn.
"Em, I know how that sounds.
I know what you're thinking.
But I tried in the only way I knew how, which was to stay in the middle and keep things from getting worse."
"Staying in the middle meant I paid for everything for ten years."
"I know."
"It meant she called me every month and I said yes because I thought it was my responsibility."
"I know." He didn't look away.
"I was wrong.
I should have said something.
I should have said it a long time ago."
The kitchen was quiet.
Jenna spoke first.
"She named me in the filing, Dad.
She told Foss I manipulated Grandpa."
His jaw tightened.
"I know."
"You knew before you called me this morning?"
"I found out when I called you." He looked at Jenna directly.
"I want you to know I had no part in that.
And I am not going to stand by while she does it."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
He reached into his jacket pocket and set a folded piece of paper on the table.
"It means I called Foss this morning after I called you.
I told him I was withdrawing my support for the challenge.
I told him that if he proceeded, I would provide a sworn statement contradicting every factual claim in the filing." He paused.
"He told me that was my right.
He did not sound pleased."
I stared at the paper.
"You withdrew support."
"I'm done staying in the middle." He looked at me steadily.
"I should have been done ten years ago."
I didn't say anything for a moment.
There was too much to say and none of it was ready yet.
Mr.
Hale called while we were still sitting there.
I put him on speaker.
"The challenge was filed this morning," he said.
"Diminished capacity and undue influence, as expected.
However—" A pause.
"I've just received a call from Foss's office.
He's requesting a meeting.
He says his client has new information she wants to share before this proceeds further."
"What kind of information?" I asked.
"He wouldn't say.
But in my experience, when opposing counsel requests a meeting this quickly after filing, one of two things has happened." Another pause.
"Either they've found something that strengthens their case.
Or someone on their side has lost their nerve."
Dad looked at the folded paper on the table.
"Tell him we'll meet," I said.
"Tomorrow morning.
Your office."
After I ended the call, the three of us sat with the box between us and the photograph face-up on the table.
"She's going to walk in tomorrow and try to take control of the room," Jenna said.
"She always does."
"I know," I said.
"Do you have a plan?"
I looked at the passbook.
The withdrawal slips.
The documents examiner's report from 1987.
The photograph of a nineteen-year-old girl at a bank counter, signing a name that wasn't hers.
May you like
"Grandpa had a plan," I said.
"I'm just going to finish it."
