Garrett was unusually cheerful the following morning.
I noticed it before he even entered the kitchen.
He greeted me with a broad smile.
"Morning, Dad."
I looked up from my coffee.
"Morning."
He was carrying another cup.
"I made you some."
I glanced at it.
"Thank you."
He placed it on the table.
Then he sat down.
Tiffany appeared behind him.
She was dressed neatly and had her handbag over one shoulder.
Neither of them mentioned the previous day's argument.
Neither mentioned the nail file.
Neither asked whether I had checked the workshop camera.
Garrett looked almost relaxed.
He started talking about the weather.
Then he asked whether I had slept well.
I answered briefly.
He nodded.
A few minutes later, he stood.
"I brought something we should go through."
He returned carrying a thick packet of papers.
My eyes moved immediately to the documents.
I recognized the packet from the workshop recording.
He placed it directly in front of me.
There were several pages.
Some had bright yellow tabs attached along the edges.
A heavy gold pen rested on top.
Garrett pushed the packet toward me.
"It's just some routine healthcare paperwork, Pop."
I looked at the first page.
I didn't pick it up.
"What kind of healthcare paperwork?"
"Just documents that would make things easier if you ever needed help."
I looked at him.
"What sort of help?"
He leaned forward.
"You know. Medical decisions, managing things, handling arrangements. The usual stuff."
I turned one page.
The language was formal.
There were sections I wanted to examine more carefully.
The yellow tabs marked several places where signatures were expected.
I counted them.
Three.
Three bright yellow tabs.
I looked back at Garrett.
"Why are there so many signatures?"
He gave a reassuring smile.
"It's a package. They need everything completed."
I glanced toward Tiffany.
She was standing behind my chair.
Her arms were relaxed at her sides.
She wasn't saying anything.
Garrett picked up the gold pen.
He rolled it between his fingers.
"Trust me, Dad. I'm your son."
I remembered those words from years earlier.
I had trusted him when he asked me to sell my house.
I had trusted him when he promised me a private suite.
I had trusted him when he said he would look after me.
I had even trusted him enough to hand over the entire $640,000.
That trust had placed me on a basement mattress.
I looked down at the paperwork again.
"Can I read these first?"
Garrett's smile tightened.
"Of course."
I turned another page.
Some of the language was unfamiliar.
There were references to authority and decision-making.
I wasn't going to pretend I understood every legal consequence from a quick glance.
But I understood that these were not simply forms to be signed without thought.
I placed the pages flat on the table.
"I'll need my attorney to review them."
Garrett shifted in his chair.
"Why would you need an attorney for routine forms?"
"Because I don't sign documents I haven't had reviewed."
He laughed softly.
"Dad, you're making this into something complicated."
I looked at him.
"You brought me a thick packet with three signature tabs."
"It's to protect you."
"Then there shouldn't be a problem with my attorney reading it."
Tiffany finally spoke.
"Garrett is only trying to help."
I turned toward her.
"I didn't say he wasn't."
But I had said enough.
Garrett pushed the gold pen closer.
"Just sign the marked sections. We can take care of the rest."
I didn't touch it.
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then his expression softened again.
"Come on, Pop. You know you can trust me."
I looked at the pen.
It was expensive.
Heavy.
The kind of pen someone might use when signing something important.
I wondered whether Garrett had brought it because he thought I would be impressed.
Or whether he simply wanted to make the moment feel official.
I picked it up.
His shoulders relaxed.
Tiffany moved a little closer.
Garrett leaned forward.
"That's it."
I held the pen above the first yellow tab.
Then I stopped.
The wall clock was ticking.
I looked at the time.
1:58 p.m.
I had arranged for my attorney to arrive at two.
I knew she was coming with the certified property records.
I knew she had everything prepared.
I lowered my eyes toward the papers.
Garrett watched my hand.
He seemed convinced I was finally doing what he wanted.
I placed the pen back on the table.
"Just a moment."
His smile disappeared slightly.
"What now?"
I looked toward the clock again.
1:58.
Outside, the mountains were quiet.
The driveway was empty beyond the parked moving van and the vehicles Garrett had brought.
Then I heard something.
A distant engine.
At first, it was only a low rumble.
Then another engine joined it.
The sound grew louder.
Garrett turned his head.
Tiffany looked toward the large glass window.
I kept my hands resting beside the unsigned documents.
The gold pen lay between us.
I knew exactly who was arriving.
And this time, I wasn't going to face Garrett's demands alone.
Click here to continue reading: PART 13: The Engines Outside Interrupted My Son’s Carefully Prepared Paperwork, and the Look on His Wife’s Face Told Me Everything
My Son Had Not Spoken to Me in Eleven Years, Yet He Arrived at My Mountain Home Acting as Though He Already Owned It
Part 12 of 20
