Chapter 4: Patricia Takes the Phone
They landed back from Maui two days early.
I knew because Rachel texted me at 6 a.m.: *Flight tracker shows E.
Hale party arriving SFO 5:55 a.m.
Andrew says escrow opened this morning.
Twenty-one day clock is running.*
I was already awake.
My daughter had decided that 4 a.m.
was an excellent time to be alert and opinionated about it.
I had walked her up and down Linda's hallway for an hour, whispering nonsense to her until she settled.
I read Rachel's message and felt something loosen in my chest.
Twenty-one days.
---
Ethan arrived at Linda's front door at half past nine.
Linda answered it.
I heard his voice from the spare room — polite, controlled, asking if Natalie was available.
Linda told him to wait on the porch.
She came to find me.
"He's outside," she said.
"You don't have to go out there."
"I know." I set my daughter down in the bassinet.
"But I will."
I stepped onto the porch and pulled the door mostly closed behind me.
Ethan looked like he hadn't slept.
His shirt was wrinkled in a way that would have bothered him enormously under normal circumstances.
He had his hands in his pockets and he was standing slightly off-center, as if he wasn't sure where to put himself.
"You look terrible," I said.
"Thank you," he said, without any humor.
We stood there for a moment.
"I need you to stop the sale," he said.
"I can't do that."
"You mean you won't."
"I mean the offer has been accepted, escrow has opened, and the buyer's financing is already confirmed.
It's not a matter of won't anymore."
His jaw tightened.
"Gerald says there may be grounds for a claim based on marital contribution.
Four years of —"
"Gerald is welcome to file whatever he believes is appropriate," I said.
"He will need to explain to a judge why a property purchased eight months before our wedding, titled solely in my name, with my funds, constitutes a marital asset.
I look forward to that argument."
Ethan stared at me.
"Eight months before," he said slowly.
"Yes."
"You never told me that."
"You never asked."
---
His phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and something crossed his face — a flicker of something I recognized.
Reluctance.
He declined the call.
It rang again immediately.
He declined it again.
The third time, he answered.
"Mom, I'm in the middle of —" He stopped.
Listened.
His expression shifted from reluctant to something closer to trapped.
"I understand, but right now is not — yes.
Yes, I'll put her on."
He held the phone out to me.
I looked at it.
"Patricia wants to speak with you," he said.
I took the phone.
"Patricia," I said.
"You listen to me." Her voice was low and precise, the way it always was when she was genuinely furious rather than performatively so.
"I don't know what you think you're accomplishing with this little stunt, but I want you to understand something very clearly.
That house is where my grandchild will grow up.
You are not going to sell it out from under this family because you're feeling sorry for yourself."
I let her finish.
"Are you done?" I asked.
"I beg your —"
"Patricia.
Your son changed the lock on a house I own while I was recovering from childbirth.
He went on a ten-day vacation with you and his sister while our daughter was three days old.
He told me to figure it out myself." I kept my voice even.
"I did."
Silence.
"You think this makes you clever," she said.
"I think this makes me someone who reads her own contracts," I said.
"I'd recommend it."
I handed the phone back to Ethan.
He took it without a word.
I could hear Patricia's voice still going as he lowered it from his ear.
"She hung up," he said, looking at the screen.
"I know." I put my hand on the door.
"Ethan.
Gerald can file whatever he wants.
But you should know — I have four years of documentation.
Every expense.
Every asset.
Every account.
I have been a real estate attorney for eleven years.
I did not walk into this marriage without knowing exactly what I was doing."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"Did you ever actually love me?" he asked.
The question landed differently than I expected.
"Yes," I said.
"For a long time, I did."
I went back inside.
Linda was standing in the hallway with two cups of coffee.
She handed me one without a word.
From the porch, I heard Ethan's footsteps finally move away.
Neither of us said anything until his car had gone.
Then Linda said, "Patricia sounds exactly like I imagined."
"She's worse in person," I said.
Linda nodded slowly.
"More coffee?"
May you like
"Yes," I said.
"Please."
