Chapter 15 - The Lowest Point
The promise Nathan claimed had been made was documented in a letter that appeared to bear Hal's signature.
It said the land would eventually be given to Nathan as compensation for years of work on the property.
The trouble was that Nathan hadn't worked on the property in years.
He had visited for holidays and asked for loans.
Still, I knew how powerfully the letter might affect people who didn't know our family history.
A week before the final hearing, I received news that made every other problem feel small.
A routine evaluation revealed a condition requiring further medical testing and treatment.
Nothing about the appointment supported Nathan's claims of incapacity, but I was exhausted and afraid.
For one shameful afternoon, I considered agreeing to anything that would end the conflict.
I wanted my own bed, my husband's books, and the sound of wind in the oak tree.
I wanted a day when my son's name appearing on my phone did not make my stomach seize.
Ruth sat with me on the back porch while Amos slept under her chair.
“You can step away if you need to,” she said.
“Protecting yourself isn't surrender.”
I nodded.
But I also knew I couldn't sign away my house to buy a quiet week.
Then the court notified us that Trask intended to withdraw from representing Nathan and Corinne because of a conflict that had emerged.
I didn't ask Elise to speculate about confidential reasons.
The withdrawal itself was serious enough.
Nathan called again, this time from an unfamiliar number.
I answered because I thought it might be the hospital.
“Mom, please,” he said.
“Don't let them blame me for everything.”
“Who is them?”
“Corinne and Hollis.”
I heard traffic behind him.
He said he was afraid.
I told him to contact his attorney and speak truthfully to investigators.
He began crying.
I had heard him cry as a child, after broken bones and failed exams and the first time someone broke his heart.
But this was different.
He wanted rescue without accountability.
“I can't do this for you,” I said.
He fell silent.
Then he whispered, “You already chose Dad over me.”
The call ended.
I sat holding the dead phone until Ruth came inside and found me.
That night I took Hal's letter from my bag and read the line I had avoided.
Please don't confuse loving him with trusting him.
I finally understood what my husband had been asking.
Not that I stop loving Nathan.
May you like
That I stop letting love erase the evidence of what he'd done.
