“That’s a lot of money.”
I nodded.
“It is.”
He took a breath.
“And you were going to let us live here?”
“Yes.”
For a moment, he stared toward his plate.
Then whispered, “I don’t know what to say.”
I looked at him.
“You don’t have to say anything right now.”
Shortly after breakfast, Caitlyn’s minivan pulled into the driveway.
Nolan came inside first.
He looked around the house with obvious interest.
“Wow, Brett. Nice place.”
He examined the fireplace.
Asked about the kitchen cabinets.
Then looked toward the bathroom.
“Did you do all this yourself?”
“Not all of it.”
He nodded.
Then began asking questions about construction costs.
I was still answering when Caitlyn entered.
She hugged Mom.
Kissed Dad’s cheek.
Then looked around.
For a moment, she seemed surprised.
“Okay. I didn’t realize the house was this nice.”
Mom offered her coffee.
Caitlyn sat at the table.
Then Mom said something that made the room go quiet.
“Your father and I might have lived here.”
Caitlyn frowned.
“What?”
Mom looked toward me.
“Brett built it for us.”
My sister stared.
Then looked around again.
The lowered counters.
The wide hall.
The accessible bathroom.
The second bedroom door standing open.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then Nolan smiled.
“Well, that works out perfectly.”
I looked toward him.
“How?”
He glanced toward Caitlyn.
“Your parents can stay here, and Caitlyn can take over the farmhouse sooner.”
Mom slowly set down her coffee.
“Take over?”
Nolan shrugged.
“We’d probably sell it. It’s too expensive to heat, and the barn needs work.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Dad looked toward his daughter.
“Sell it?”
Caitlyn shifted.
“Dad, be realistic. We’re not going to move into a hundred-year-old farmhouse with those propane bills.”
Mom stared.
“But you said you wanted it for the children.”
Caitlyn looked uncomfortable.
“We want the value of it for the children.”
Dad placed his fork on the table.
The sound was small.
But everyone heard it.
He looked toward Caitlyn.
“Your mother and I haven’t gone anywhere.”
She stared.
Then said, “Nobody’s saying you have.”
He took a breath.
“Then why are you discussing selling our home?”
Caitlyn looked toward me.
For a moment, I could almost see her deciding how to make the conversation my fault.
Then she said, “Brett already has a house. This would be fair.”
I shook my head.
“No, Caitlyn.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“This isn’t a trade.”
I looked around the kitchen.
“I built this house for Mom and Dad because I wanted them to have somewhere comfortable. I wasn’t buying the farmhouse.”
She folded her arms.
“But Dad promised it to you.”
I nodded.
“He did.”
She looked toward him.
Then back at me.
“And now you’ve got your own place.”
I took a breath.
“Yes. And the farmhouse still belongs to Mom and Dad.”
For a moment, the room became quiet.
Then Dad looked toward me.
His voice sounded different.
Less certain.
More careful.
“Bud, if we go back to the attorney, I can change the will.”
I looked toward him.
He continued.
“I can leave the farmhouse to you, the way I always said.”
For a moment, my throat tightened.
It was the offer I’d wanted to hear for years.
But standing in the kitchen I’d built for my parents, I realized I didn’t want the conversation to become another exchange of property and favors.
I shook my head.
“Dad, don’t make that decision today.”
He stared.
I continued.
“Go to your attorney. Think about what you and Mom actually want. Make sure the arrangements are fair and properly documented.”
I looked toward Caitlyn.
“And don’t decide anything based on who owns a nicer house.”
Dad nodded slowly.
For a moment, he looked relieved.
Then I added something I needed all of them to hear.
“This house is mine. I built it, I’m paying for it, and I’ll decide who lives here.”
Caitlyn’s expression tightened.
I continued.
“That doesn’t mean I’m turning Mom and Dad away. It means I’m not going to keep offering things because somebody else believes I should.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Dad turned toward Caitlyn.
“You called us back last night?”
She nodded.
He looked toward her.
“And you couldn’t let us stay?”
Caitlyn’s eyes filled.
“Paisley was sick.”
Dad nodded.
“I understand that.”
Then he continued.
“But you didn’t even ask whether we were safe.”
For a moment, she seemed unable to answer.
Then she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Dad looked toward his coffee.
“Your mother and I need to talk about some things.”
He wasn’t angry.
Not visibly.
But something had changed.
For the first time, he was asking his daughter to consider what her parents needed instead of simply assuring her that the farmhouse would someday be hers.
Caitlyn and Nolan left shortly afterward.
They didn’t argue.
They looked uncomfortable.
Nolan carried the rest of his toast to the car without saying another word.
When the door closed, Dad looked toward me.
“Can we get the heat fixed today?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
He called Otter Creek Propane himself.
Spoke to Dena, the account representative.
Arranged payment.