Chapter 4 - The Appraisal
I didn't let the appraiser inside.
I apologized for her wasted trip and told her the homeowner had not authorized an appraisal.
She left politely.
Then I closed the door.
David spoke first.
“Mom—”
“Living room.”
Perhaps it was the tone.
Both of them followed.
I remained standing.
“Explain.”
David looked at Harper.
That irritated me immediately.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“The appraisal was just information.”
“For what?”
“To see what the house is worth.”
“I know what an appraisal does.”
Harper stepped in.
“We were considering options.”
That word again.
Options.
I turned toward her.
“Tell me the option.”
She lifted her chin.
“If the house has enough equity, there are ways to make everyone's situation easier.”
“The house doesn't have equity.”
She frowned.
“It absolutely does.”
“No. Equity is what you discuss when debt remains against an asset. There is no mortgage. Michael and I paid it off.”
Her expression shifted.
That fact was apparently more significant than she'd realized.
David knew.
He had always known.
Harper looked at him.
“You said there used to be a mortgage.”
“Used to be.”
“How much is the house worth?” she asked me.
“I don't know.”
“But probably—”
“It doesn't matter.”
She stared.
“How can it not matter?”
“Because I'm not selling it.”
David stood.
“Nobody said selling.”
“Then what?”
Silence.
I understood.
“You wanted me to borrow against it.”
Harper said quickly, “There are financial strategies—”
I laughed.
I couldn't help it.
Not because it was funny.
Because the absurdity had finally exceeded my ability to remain expressionless.
“You wanted me to leave my house and borrow against it?”
“No,” David said. “That's not exactly—”
“For your down payment?”
Neither answered.
There it was.
The entire shape of the plan.
My house would finance theirs.
And apparently I would move somewhere quieter while doing it.
I looked at David.
“Did you agree to this?”
“It was only a conversation.”
“Did you agree?”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
Something inside me broke.
Not loudly.
It simply separated.
I had spent days hoping David was being dragged behind Harper's ambition.
But he wasn't innocent.
Passive participation was still participation.
“You have thirty days.”
His head lifted.
“What?”
“To find somewhere else to live.”
Harper stared.
“You're evicting your pregnant daughter-in-law?”
“I am ending a temporary living arrangement with two adults.”
“The baby could come early.”
“Then I suggest you start looking today.”
David stepped closer.
“Mom, please.”
“No.”
“You said we could stay until we saved.”
“I did. Then you entered my locked files, discussed removing me from my home, and arranged an appraisal without permission.”
Harper's face hardened.
“This is unbelievable.”
“I agree.”
“You're choosing a house over your grandchild.”
“No. I'm choosing not to surrender my house because you are having my grandchild.”
“That is the same thing.”
“It isn't remotely the same thing.”
She turned toward David.
“Say something.”
He looked at her.
Then at me.
His face was pale.
“Thirty days?”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly.
Harper looked stunned.
“You're accepting this?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Fight!”
I spoke before he could.
“No one is fighting.”
She turned toward me.
“This is our child's home too.”
“No. It was going to be your child's temporary home.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
For one second, guilt stabbed me.
Pregnant.
Emotional.
Afraid.
Then I remembered the appraiser at my door.
Compassion did not require surrender.
Harper walked upstairs.
A door slammed.
David remained.
“I'm sorry.”
I looked at him.
“For what?”
“All of it.”
“That's broad.”
“I should have stopped this.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“I thought if we could just get enough money together, we'd buy a place and everything would settle down.”
“Whose idea was the home-equity loan?”
He didn't answer immediately.
“Harper's.”
“And yours?”
“I said I'd ask you.”
“You never did.”
“I was going to.”
“After the appraisal?”
He closed his eyes.
That answered me.
I sat down.
“David, where is the eighteen thousand five hundred dollars?”
He stiffened.
“In savings.”
“Whose savings?”
“Ours.”
“Why was Harper requesting joint access if it was already yours together?”
He stared at me.
I saw the exact second he understood what I knew.
“It was moved into an account in her name,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“She said it would keep us from spending it.”
“Do you have access?”
He hesitated.
“No.”
I felt cold.
“David.”
“She was adding me.”
“Was she?”
He frowned.
I continued.
“The notification I received said joint access requested. It didn't say approved.”
His face changed.
He pulled out his phone.
“Call the bank.”
“Mom—”
“Call.”
He stepped into the kitchen.
Harper came downstairs ten minutes later carrying her purse.
She saw David on the phone.
“What are you doing?”
He held up one finger.
She froze.
I watched her.
Her eyes moved from David to me.
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing he didn't already know.”
David ended the call.
“Harper.”
His voice was different.
For the first time since they moved in, there was no apology in it.
“Why was my access request canceled?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“The bank said the request to add me was withdrawn yesterday.”
“I don't know.”
“They said the account owner withdrew it.”
Her hand tightened around her purse.
“We can talk upstairs.”
“No.”
“David.”
“Where's the money?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“It's my account.”
“Our money.”
“Our money that you weren't supposed to see?” I asked.
Harper glared at me.
“This is none of your business.”
“You made my finances your business first.”
David stepped closer.
“Give me access.”
“I said we'll discuss it privately.”
“Now.”
Her expression hardened.
Then her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
And everything changed.
She immediately silenced it.
Too immediately.
David noticed.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody.”
The phone rang again.
This time I could see the name on the screen.
David could too.
His face went completely still.
May you like
The caller was saved as:
MASON — REALTOR.
