Real estate transactions in Arizona are public record. Renee knew this. It was her industry. I would later learn that she had set up an alert on a property data service for my name. And when that produced nothing, had apparently been searching variations. She found it through the trust name after a neighbor, a woman named Carol, who knew both Renee and my real estate agent Judy from a networking group, mentioned she’d heard Judy was closing a cash deal on Whitmore Lane.
Renee was a fast connector of dots.
She came to my room on a Saturday morning. She did not knock first. I was at my small writing desk when the door opened.
And I will say this for Renee. She did not bother with a warm-up. She closed the door behind her, stood in the center of my room, and said, “You bought a house.”
I turned from my desk. I was wearing my reading glasses and the cardigan Daniel had given me for Christmas 3 years ago.
“I’ve been looking for a place,” I said.
“Yes. A 4-bedroom house on Whitmore Lane. Cash transaction through a trust called Eleanor Properties. Where did the money come from, Margaret?”
“I have savings,” I said.
“Daniel and I discussed your finances after Harold’s estate closed. You had enough to live on, not enough to buy a house in this market.”
I noticed she said Daniel and I discussed your finances as simply as you discussed the weather, as though my finances were a matter of household administration.
“Things change,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed. She was doing the math. I watched her do it.
“Did you inherit something? An account we didn’t know about?”
I took my reading glasses off and set them on the desk.
“Renee, is there a reason you feel entitled to an accounting of my personal finances?”
The temperature in the room dropped.
She was quiet for exactly the right amount of time.
The silence of someone recalibrating.
“Then we’ve supported you for 2 years, Margaret. We took you in when you had nowhere to go. I think we deserve some transparency.”
There it was.
Took you in.
Leave a Comment