I waited until the following morning.
Robert never answered my question that night.
I tried not to think about it.
But every time I closed my eyes, I remembered the word Patricia had used.
Deposit.
Someone had already paid money toward renovations at my house.
Money spent on a property they believed belonged to them.
At eight thirty, my phone rang.
Robert.
I answered.
"Good morning, Mom."
His voice sounded tired.
"Good morning."
He took a breath.
"About your message yesterday…"
I waited.
"Yes?"
He hesitated.
"Megan arranged for some contractors to look at the house."
I looked at the blue folder on my table.
"Did you pay them?"
"Not exactly."
"Robert, I asked you a simple question."
He sighed.
"There was a deposit."
I closed my eyes.
"How much?"
"I don't know the exact amount."
"Was it your money?"
He paused.
Then he said, "Some of it."
I felt a knot forming in my stomach.
"What does that mean?"
"Megan handled most of it."
I sat down.
"Robert, did you tell the contractor that you owned the property?"
He became defensive.
"Mom, everyone knows the house is going to be mine eventually."
I had heard that sentence before.
This time, it sounded worse.
"That wasn't my question."
He said nothing.
I continued.
"Did you tell them you had permission to renovate?"
"Yes."
"From whom?"
He did not answer.
I looked at Henry's photograph.
"Robert, did you have written authorization?"
His voice became quieter.
"No."
I felt disappointed.
Not surprised.
Disappointed.
"Why didn't you ask me?"
"Because you always say no to changes."
I stared at the wall.
"So you decided to make them anyway?"
He sighed.
"Mom, Megan had a plan. We thought it would increase the property's value."
I almost laughed.
The property already had value.
But its value had never been the reason Henry and I loved it.
"Robert, your father built that house with me. We never needed to increase its value to feel successful."
He interrupted.
"Things are different now."
I asked him what he meant.
He told me that he and Megan had been discussing their finances.
They wanted to make improvements.
They believed the Florida house could eventually become a larger family property.
I listened.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
"Are you having financial problems?"
He went quiet.
"Why would you ask that?"
"Because you seem very interested in a house you don't legally own."
He became irritated.
"We're fine."
I did not believe him.
But I did not push.
Instead, I told him that Daniel would be contacting him about the renovation arrangements.
He immediately became upset.
"Mom, please don't involve more lawyers."
"Your father already involved lawyers when he created the trust."
"That's not fair."
I looked down at my hands.
"Neither was closing the door on me."
He said nothing.
I ended the call.
Later that morning, Daniel contacted me.
He had received a response from the bank.
The trust's records showed no written approval for the proposed renovations.
The bank was requesting copies of the contractor agreements and payment information.
Daniel explained that this was necessary to determine whether the occupancy conditions had been violated.
I agreed.
He also told me that Robert had been sent a formal request to provide the information.
I thanked him.
For the rest of the day, I stayed at the hotel.
I did not want to return to the house while things were being reviewed.
Around four, Megan sent me a message.
Eleanor, we need to talk about what you've done.
I read it twice.
Then another message appeared.
Robert is extremely stressed. You need to understand that this affects his family too.
I put the phone down.
A few minutes later, she called.
I answered.
"What is it, Megan?"
She sounded angry.
"You've embarrassed Robert."
I was silent.
"Do you understand what people will think when they find out there's a legal dispute over the house?"
I looked out the window.
"Perhaps they should know the truth."
She lowered her voice.
"You are making a huge mistake."
I asked her why.
"Because Robert has been planning his future around that property."
I closed my eyes.
"Without asking me?"
"He believed it was his."
"Believing something doesn't make it true."
She became quiet.
Then she said something I had not expected.
"We've already put a lot of money into this."
I sat up.
"How much?"
She refused to answer.
I asked whether she had signed a contract.
She said the contractor had been given instructions.
"Did you sign it as the owner?"
There was a long silence.
Then she said, "We don't need to discuss that."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Megan, you need to be honest with the attorneys."
She ended the call.
That evening, I received an email from Daniel.
He had arranged for a property inspection and requested that no further work take place until the review was completed.
I read the email carefully.
Then I saved it.
I was beginning to understand that this was no longer just about a family argument.
It was about decisions made without my permission.
And I could not pretend otherwise.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: The Contractor’s Documents Revealed What Megan Had Been Planning for My Beach House While I Was Still Alive
My Son Looked at My Wheelchair and Decided I Was a Burden, but He Had No Idea What His Father Had Left Behind
Part 9 of 20
