An older couple walked by on the sidewalk holding hands, and I smiled at them.
For the first time since Warren passed away, I didn’t feel responsible for the happiness of grown adults who absolutely refused to grow up.
I had signed that house over to Gavin to give him a safety net.
He had treated it like a blank check for laziness.
Now he had to learn that homeownership is a liability, a lesson he was going to learn the hard way when he saw the bill for an emergency same-day heating oil delivery tonight.
Two days later, my phone rang from an unknown number.
It was the HVAC guy from the other day.
“Mrs. Baxter, I can’t get a hold of your son, but it’s an absolute madhouse over there. The pipes are going to freeze and burst if they don’t get oil delivered right now. But the oil company requires upfront payment for emergency drops, and your son’s debit card declined.”
I took a slow, deep breath.
“Bob, I don’t live there anymore. If you need to verify ownership, you can pull the public deed records. My son owns the property.”
It stung a little bit to be that ruthless, but I knew I had to be.
If I swooped in to save them now, nothing would ever change.
A little while later, I turned my phone’s cellular data back on.
Gavin had sent me an email.
It was a lot more grounded than his frantic texts.
He admitted they had completely screwed up the math.
Sloan had taken the money they were supposed to use for the utility bills and spent it on some bougie, expensive life-coaching certification course for her mother.
They had banked entirely on my $800 rent, plus my usual contributions, to cover the massive shortfall.
Without internet, neither of them could work.
They both relied on working from home.
Without heat, the house was physically unlivable.
Gavin asked if I could spot them alone.
I replied with two sentences.
“No, but I do have a suggestion. Sell the house. It’s way too big for just the two of you, and you clearly can’t afford the upkeep. Downsize to an apartment that actually fits your budget.”
The reply came from Sloan, practically vibrating with rage.
“Never. It’s our inheritance.”
I just smiled a sad smile.
They looked at that house like it was a prize they’d won, not a massive responsibility.
But a prize you can’t afford to maintain becomes a curse real quick.