Chapter 11: The Family Meeting
Helen had advised against it.
"A direct confrontation before the legal process plays out gives her information she can use," she said.
"It also gives her an audience, which is what she wants."
"I'm not confronting her," I said.
"I'm talking to the family.
There's a difference."
It was Ruth who made it possible.
She called the cousins, the aunts, the people who had received Diane's emails.
She told them there was information they needed to hear.
She asked them to come to her house on a Saturday afternoon.
Eleven people came.
Diane was not invited.
I stood in Ruth's living room with a printed copy of Helen's summary document — names removed, facts intact — and I told them everything.
I did not raise my voice.
I did not cry.
I showed them the email chain.
I showed them the solicitor's letter.
I told them about the DNA test that was never completed because Diane could never get close enough to Evan to take a sample without our knowledge.
Carol — the cousin who had laughed at the picnic — went very quiet when I reached that part.
"She told me she had already confirmed it," Carol said.
"She said she had the results."
"She had nothing," I said.
"She sent you those emails without a single piece of evidence.
She made up a story about my son and sent it to twelve people."
Carol looked at the printed email in her hands.
She looked at it for a long time.
"I laughed," she said.
"At the picnic.
When he fell."
"Yes," I said.
"I didn't know—"
"You didn't ask," I said.
Not unkindly.
Just plainly.
An older man named Gerald — Marcus's uncle on his father's side — leaned forward in his chair.
"What does she want?" he said.
"At the bottom of it.
What is she actually after?"
"The house," Marcus said.
He was standing beside me.
"My father left it to me.
She's been trying to find a way to contest that since the day he died."
Gerald was quiet for a moment.
"Your father knew what he was doing when he wrote that will," he said.
"I was there when he signed it.
He was clear-headed.
He knew exactly what he wanted."
"Were you present at the signing?" I asked.
"I was a witness," Gerald said.
I looked at Helen's number in my phone.
"Would you be willing to say that formally?" I said.
"In writing?"
Gerald looked at Marcus.
Then at me.
"Yes," he said.
"I would."
On the drive home, Marcus reached across and took my hand.
He didn't say anything.
Neither did I.
But when we got home and Evan ran to the door to meet us, Marcus picked him up and held him for longer than usual.
Evan patted his father's back the way children do when they sense something without understanding it.
"It's okay, Dad," he said.
Marcus pressed his face against Evan's shoulder.
"Yeah," he said.
"It is."
Two weeks later, Helen called again.
"Diane's solicitor has withdrawn the estate challenge," she said.
"Gerald's witness statement was submitted yesterday.
Combined with the original will documentation and the pattern of conduct we've outlined, they've advised her that proceeding is not in her interest."
"Is it over?" I asked.
"The estate matter is over," Helen said.
May you like
"The retraction letter is still outstanding.
I'm giving her until Friday."
