Alicia stared at the document beneath Mr.
Harris’s hand as if she could force the words to rearrange themselves.
Her parents stood behind her in my living room, each holding the handle of a rolling suitcase.
Her mother still had a travel pillow tucked beneath one arm.
Her father had set two bags beside Arthur’s old reading chair.
Nobody moved.
Mr.
Harris adjusted his glasses.
“Before anyone carries a suitcase upstairs,” he repeated, “we should establish who has the legal authority to decide who lives in this house and which rooms they occupy.”
Alicia looked at me, not him.
“What is this supposed to be?”
I lifted my coffee and took one small sip.
It was the first Sunday morning in years that I did not feel the need to explain myself quickly.
Mr.
Harris turned the deed so Alicia could see it more clearly.
“This is the recorded deed for the property.
Arthur Bennett and Consuelo Bennett purchased the home together.
After Mr.
Bennett’s death, ownership passed according to the arrangements they had already made.
Mrs.
Bennett is the owner.”
Alicia’s mother lowered the pillow.
“Owner?”
Alicia’s jaw tightened.
“Obviously she owns it.
Fernando is her son.”
“Those are two different facts,” Mr.
Harris said.
Alicia folded her arms.
“Fernando lives here.
He has rights too.”
“He may have occupancy rights that must be handled according to law,” Mr.
Harris replied calmly.
“That does not make him an owner.
And it certainly does not give him authority to transfer Mrs.
Bennett’s bedroom to someone else.”
Her father looked at Alicia.
“You told us this was already settled.”
Alicia spun toward him.
“It is settled.
She agreed.”
I set down my cup.
“No, I did not.”
That was all I said.
Alicia gave me the same look she had used every time she wanted me to doubt my own memory.
“You said family helps family.”
“I said your parents could stay for a few days.
You told me they were moving in permanently and taking my bedroom.
Those are not the same thing.”
Her mother shifted her weight.
For the first time, she seemed less smug than uncomfortable.
“Alicia said you hardly use the upstairs rooms anymore.”
“I sleep in that bedroom every night.”
“Well, she said—”
“I know what she said.”
The room went quiet again.
