“Helen prepared it. I read it. The distribution went directly into the new trust.”
Dad looked from the card to me. I could see him waiting for a practical way around this, the way he might examine a stuck bolt.
“A power of attorney lets you act for me,” I continued. “It doesn’t let you take assets I can’t withdraw myself. Marcus already explained the situation when you called in January.”
“January?” Dad asked Mom.
She ignored him.
“Then undo it. We’ll go together Monday.”
“Irrevocable is the word, Mom. I read every page.”
Karen stood and zipped her bag.
“I wasn’t told what this was,” she said. “I’m not notarizing anything tonight.”
She looked at me.
“Congratulations on your graduation.”
Then she left. I appreciated that she had managed to congratulate me without attaching a document.
Mom’s voice broke.
“You did this to your own mother two hours before you walked across that stage?”
“Yes,” I said. “Just in case.”
I closed the folder.
“You brought the case.”
Nobody reached for the cake.
“She wanted a trustee nobody in this family could take to lunch,” I added.
Dad tried the next practical problem.
“The truck deposit’s already down. Two thousand. You could at least cover that.”
Before I answered, Tyler looked directly at me.
“You knew and let me sit here?”
“I’ve known for eleven days,” I said. “You’ve been promised my money for five months. Ask them who let you sit here.”
Mom stood and dropped her napkin onto her plate.
“Keep your grandmother’s money. You’ll be alone with it.”
She blamed Lorraine, then walked out. Dad followed with a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, steering him toward the door.
Tyler looked back once.