“I’ve made some contributions too,” he said.
“I know you have. I have records of those. Three hundred dollars a month for certain years, less in others, a few one-time contributions.” I paused. “I also have the estate summary that shows Mom transferred forty-eight thousand dollars to you over seven years.”
The air changed.
He set his coffee cup down. Very carefully.
“Those were—” He stopped.
“Loans? Gifts? Help when you needed it?”
“We had some hard years.”
“I know you did. I also know that the year the roof needed replacing, five months before we did that repair, Mom transferred fifteen thousand dollars to you. The year you said you didn’t have the cash.”
“I didn’t know about the roof then. That was March. The roof was—”
“August. Yes. Five months. I’m not saying you deliberately arranged it. I’m saying the picture is different from the one you put in that invoice.”
He was quiet for a long time. I let him be quiet.
“I was helping her financially in other ways,” he said finally. “She didn’t want to worry me with the house stuff.”
That sentence landed and I turned it over for a moment.
“She didn’t want to worry you,” I repeated.
“She knew I had a lot going on.”
“She knew you had a lot going on, so she sent you money and didn’t mention the roof. And I fixed the roof with my savings. That’s the thing you’re describing.”
He didn’t have an answer for that.