The next update from Samantha concerned Baldwin-Gallagher Logistics.
She had been checking the ownership records and communicating with the people responsible for the company's affairs.
“I want to be careful about what I tell you,” she said. “We're still verifying certain details.”
I sat up straighter.
“What have you found?”
“Lucas's controlling shares are addressed by the estate arrangements. Your father has no automatic authority over them.”
I let out a breath.
I had been afraid that Charles might find a way to take control of the company while I was in the hospital.
I didn't know enough about its internal operations to understand every possible problem.
But I knew Lucas had spent years building it.
He had worked long days.
He had missed dinners.
He had taken calls while we were supposed to be relaxing.
Sometimes I complained that the company always seemed to come home with him.
He would apologize and promise to put the work away.
Usually, he tried.
I had never thought that someone might look at all those years of work and see an opportunity to take what he had built.
“Has my father contacted the company?” I asked.
“We're checking whether he made any representations beyond the communications already known to us. I don't want to tell you that he did something unless we can establish it.”
I understood.
“What happens if he tried to claim authority?”
“The company must follow its governing documents and the applicable ownership arrangements. An unsupported claim does not become valid simply because someone makes it.”
I thought about my father's voice on the porch.
He had told me the house needed to be sold.
He had said he was taking care of it.
He had acted as if his decision was the only decision that mattered.
Perhaps he had believed the same approach would work with the company.
I couldn't know.
But the possibility explained why he had been so determined to search Lucas's office.
“What was he looking for in the desk?” I asked.
“I can't determine that from what we know so far. We're working to identify any missing records and verify what, if anything, he obtained.”
I remembered the sound of the drawers opening.
The way Charles had leaned over the desk.
The way he had ignored me lying on the porch while he searched through the things Lucas had left behind.
I felt angry all over again.
It wasn't only the possibility of financial wrongdoing.
It was the disrespect.
Lucas had kept those papers because they mattered to him.
My father had treated them as things he could take.
“Can I see the company documents?” I asked.
“We'll arrange for you to review the records you're entitled to receive. Some information may need to be handled through the company's established process.”
“That's fine.”
I didn't need everything immediately.
I needed to know that nobody was going to hand my father's claims more weight than they deserved.
Samantha told me that the trust, the house, and the company were being handled through their respective procedures.
She reminded me not to sign any document Charles or Courtney might send.
“I won't.”
“And don't agree to any private arrangement about the assets without getting independent advice.”
“I understand.”
After we hung up, I sat with my hands folded in my lap.
For the first time, I felt that I was learning how to take care of the practical parts of my life without Lucas.
That thought hurt.
I had always imagined we would grow older together.
I had imagined him teaching our child to ride a bicycle.
I had imagined us arguing about the right way to pack for family trips.
I had never imagined that I would be learning about trust documents and company ownership while sitting in a hospital bed, wondering whether my father would try to take my house.
Grief was cruel in ways I hadn't expected.
It didn't only take the person away.
It left you standing in the middle of all the things that person had handled, trying to understand them before something else went wrong.
I looked at the list beside me.
Trust.
Deed.
Company shares.
Authorization.
Evidence.
I added one more word.
Boundaries.
I wanted to return home.
I wanted to protect Lucas's plans.
And I wanted to stop allowing my father to turn every disagreement into a test of whether I loved him.
I could love someone and still refuse to let them control me.
I could grieve Lucas and still make decisions about our future.
I could ask for help without surrendering my judgment.
Those were simple things to write down.
They were harder to learn.
That night, I thought about the call that had changed my father's expression.
I still didn't know exactly what the caller had said.
But I knew that Charles had encountered a limit he hadn't expected.
The company had records.
The trust had rules.
The house had a deed.
And I had Samantha, who was not going to accept my father's word as a substitute for proof.
For once, his confidence would not be enough.
Click here to continue reading: PART 16: When I Finally Prepared to Return to My House, I Had to Face the Question I Had Been Avoiding Since My Father Threw Me Out
Three Weeks After My Husband Died, My Father Walked Into My Kitchen and Told Me I No Longer Belonged There
Part 15 of 24
