Chapter 3 - THE PARTY MY MOTHER THREW BEHIND OUR BACKS
"Play that last part again," Julia said.
I had her on video call, with my laptop open beside Grandma's photograph.
I replayed the security footage.
My mother's voice filled the office.
"Absolutely."
Julia's expression changed.
"Claire, I need you to preserve that recording immediately. Keep the original file, and make a separate backup."
"Do you think she can actually sell my house?"
"Not legitimately without your authorization. But we don't know what she's signed or promised. That's what concerns me."
I looked toward the kitchen.
Lily was eating cereal, wearing the same yellow pajamas she'd worn when she opened her birthday presents.
The thought of someone making plans to remove us from our home made me furious.
"Why would Mom do this?"
Julia hesitated.
"Sometimes people convince themselves they're entitled to something simply because they've wanted it long enough."
That afternoon, I learned my mother hadn't merely forgotten Lily's birthday.
She'd deliberately made sure nobody attended.
It began with a message from Aunt Ruth.
Ruth was my father's younger sister. She lived forty minutes away and had always remembered Lily's birthdays.
But she hadn't come either.
I'd been too hurt to call her.
When her message arrived, I almost deleted it.
Claire, I just heard something terribly upsetting. Please tell me Lily is all right.
I called immediately.
"Why wouldn't Lily be all right?"
Ruth sounded confused.
"Marilyn said she was sick."
I closed my eyes.
"What?"
"Last Saturday. Your mother sent a message saying Lily had a stomach virus and the birthday party was postponed."
My fingers went numb.
"Lily wasn't sick."
Silence.
Then Ruth whispered, "Oh, Claire."
She forwarded the message.
It had been sent at 8:14 that morning.
Claire asked me to let everyone know Lily's party is postponed. Please don't disturb her. She has enough going on.
Underneath, several relatives had replied with sympathy.
My cousin Beth had offered to drop off a present.
My uncle Martin had wished Lily a speedy recovery.
Not one of them had contacted me directly.
My mother had successfully turned fifteen expected guests into fifteen empty chairs.
"Ruth, why didn't you call me?"
Her voice cracked.
"I should have. Your mother said Lily needed rest, and I didn't want to bother you. That's no excuse."
I appreciated that she didn't try to defend herself.
But apologies couldn't erase the memory of Lily sitting in her birthday dress.
"There's something else," Ruth said.
"What?"
"Marilyn invited several people to a private presentation at your carriage house that same afternoon."
I stared at the wall.
"Who?"
"People she said were potential investors. She told us you wanted the meeting kept quiet because you were preparing a business announcement."
"Did you go?"
"No. I was visiting my husband's sister. But Vanessa mentioned champagne and some kind of property proposal."
Another piece fell into place.
Mom hadn't simply canceled Lily's party.
She'd cleared the family schedule so nobody would question why she was entertaining strangers on my property.
After we hung up, I called Vanessa.
She answered on the fourth ring.
"Claire, if this is about Mom, I really don't want to get involved."
"Too late."
"What does that mean?"
"I saw you at the carriage house on Saturday."
Silence.
"Which Saturday?"
"Lily's birthday."
"Claire—"
"Don't insult me by pretending you don't remember."
She exhaled.
"Mom said you were fine with the meeting."
"She also told everyone Lily was sick."
"I didn't know that."
"You knew Lily had a birthday party."
Another silence.
"Yes."
"And you never wondered why I was entertaining nobody while you were drinking champagne next door?"
"Mom said you'd decided to keep it small."
I closed my eyes.
"Vanessa, Lily waited for you."
Her breathing changed.
"Claire, please."
"She asked whether she'd done something wrong."
Vanessa started crying.
For once, I didn't comfort her.
"I'll ask you one question," I said. "What did Mom promise Owen Price?"
"I don't know."
"Then find out."
I ended the call.
An hour later, Julia arrived at my house with a laptop and a stack of printed property records.
She'd located the corporation my mother registered.
Bennett Legacy Celebrations had been formed four months earlier.
Its listed manager was Marilyn Bennett.
Its second authorized representative was Vanessa Brooks.
My sister.
I felt the familiar sting of betrayal.
Julia pointed to another document.
"This is where things become serious."
It was an exclusive property management agreement.
According to its terms, my mother had authority to operate the carriage house for five years.
The document also claimed she could negotiate a purchase option involving the surrounding estate.
"She can't do that," I said.
"No. But someone has been presented with paperwork claiming that she can."
Julia turned the page.
A copy of my signature appeared at the bottom.
My stomach dropped.
"Another forgery."
"Possibly copied from the same source as the first."
"And Owen?"
"He appears to have paid an initial investment of one hundred seventy-five thousand dollars."
I stared at her.
"To my mother?"
"To her company."
"For what?"
"An option that could allow his development company to purchase the property if certain conditions were met."
"But she doesn't own it."
"That's what we need to establish formally with everyone involved."
I stood and walked toward the window.
Beyond the lawn, the carriage house glowed in the late-afternoon sunshine.
I'd spent six years restoring that building.
I remembered stripping old paint from the window frames, replacing rotten floorboards, and crying when the first wedding couple danced beneath its chandeliers.
Now someone had turned my work into a bargaining chip.
"Can Owen force us out?"
"Not based on what I've seen. But he may pursue claims against your mother's company, and he could try to involve you. We need to prevent confusion over ownership before it damages your business."
That evening, Vanessa appeared at my driveway.
I hadn't invited her.
She stood outside the new gate, holding a large cream envelope.
I walked toward her without opening it.
"Why are you here?"
"Because Sofia found something."
I looked at the envelope.
"What?"
"She was helping Mom organize decorations. There was a folder labeled 'Bennett Estate Transition.'"
My heart started pounding.
"Transition?"
Vanessa nodded.
"I didn't understand what it meant until you called."
She held out the envelope.
Inside was a site plan.
My home, carriage house, garden, and lake frontage had been outlined in red.
Beside the house was a handwritten notation.
Existing residence to be vacated before transfer.
Below that was a document bearing my signature.
And a notarization.
I looked at the date.
The previous Saturday.
At 1:40 p.m.
The exact afternoon Lily and I were sitting beneath fifteen empty chairs, waiting for guests who would never arrive.
"Vanessa," I whispered, "who notarized this?"
She looked down.
Then she said something I never expected.
"Claire, the notary is someone Mom has known for thirty years."
I turned the page.
There, beneath my forged signature, was the official seal of Helen Ward.
May you like
My mother's closest friend.
And according to the document, Helen had personally witnessed me signing away the rights to my own home.
