Nick called on a Wednesday evening.
I was making dinner when his name appeared on my phone.
I considered letting it go.
Then I answered.
He didn't bother with small talk.
He said Mom was upset.
I asked what he wanted me to do about that.
He said I needed to stop making the situation harder.
I put the spoon down.
I asked him what solution he had in mind.
He said we should all sit down and figure something out.
I reminded him that we had already done that.
He said the bank meeting hadn't gone well because I had arrived looking for a fight.
I almost laughed.
I told him I had arrived with a copy of the trust.
He said I should stop bringing it up.
I asked him why.
He said the trust was between Mom and Dad.
I told him it affected me because it specifically excluded me.
He sighed.
Then he said I was making everything about inheritance.
I asked whether he would sign the refinancing agreement if the situation were reversed.
He didn't answer.
I asked him again.
"Would you take responsibility for the mortgage if I received the property?"
He said that wasn't a fair comparison.
I asked why.
He said our situations were different.
I asked how.
He explained that I had a regular paycheck.
His business income changed from month to month.
I told him I understood that.
Then I asked whether he thought that made it fair for me to carry the debt.
He said I was being stubborn.
I looked at the stove.
The food was beginning to stick to the bottom of the pan.
I turned off the heat.
"Nick, you get the house, the land, and the workshop. Why should I get the mortgage?"
He went quiet.
Then he said the property wasn't his yet.
I reminded him that the trust assigned it to him.
He said Dad could change his mind.
I asked whether he wanted Dad to change it.
There was another pause.
Then he said he didn't want to get involved in an argument between me and our parents.
I told him he was already involved.
His name was on the trust.
His business was in the workshop.
His keys opened the building.
He had received the benefit of the arrangement for years.
He couldn't pretend to be standing outside it.
Nick became irritated.
He said I had always been the one who could handle things.
I asked whether he heard himself.
He said he didn't mean it that way.
I told him that was exactly how everyone had treated me.
If I could handle something, I was expected to handle it.
If Nick couldn't handle something, everyone needed to protect him.
He said I was exaggerating.
I told him I was finished discussing the loan.
Then I ended the call.
I stood in the kitchen for a while.
The dinner was getting cold.
I reheated it.
I ate alone.
The next morning, Mom sent a message.
She said Nick had called her after speaking with me.
She said he was hurt by the things I had said.
I read the message twice.
Nobody had asked whether I was hurt.
Nobody had asked how it felt to discover the trust.
Nobody had asked what it meant to spend six years paying for a property that had been assigned to someone else.
But Nick was hurt because I had pointed it out.
I didn't reply.
A few days later, I visited the property again.
I had something of Dad's that I needed to return.
It was a small tool he had left in my truck months earlier.
I found him near the workshop.
He was looking at the metal door.
He seemed older than I remembered.
I handed him the tool.
He thanked me.
Then he asked whether I had spoken to Nick.
I said we had talked.
Dad asked whether things were getting better.
I told him I didn't know.
He looked toward the workshop.
He said Nick had a lot invested in the business.
I nodded.
Then Dad said the property was important to Nick's future.
I asked whether my future was important to him too.
He looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he might finally answer honestly.
Instead, he said I had always been independent.
I looked down at the tool in his hand.
That was apparently the explanation.
I had managed on my own for so long that they had stopped considering whether I needed anything.
I told Dad I had to leave.
He nodded.
I walked back to my truck.
As I passed the workshop, I noticed Nick's business name above the entrance.
It was painted in large letters.
His customers could see it from the driveway.
I had helped keep the property behind that sign financially secure.
Yet I wasn't included in its future.
I drove away.
On the way home, I made a decision.
I wasn't going to keep having the same conversation with each member of my family.
I had said no.
The answer wasn't changing.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: I Started Saving the Money I Used to Send Away, and the First Month Without Their Mortgage Changed How I Saw My Life
For Six Years, I Thought I Was Keeping My Family Together, Until I Realized Nobody Was Saving a Place for Me
Part 10 of 20
