Chapter 24 - The Deed With Brandon’s Name
A week before I died, Brandon brought one piece of paper.
Not legal emergency.
A copy of deed to his Bellaire home after mortgage release.
He had owned title all along, now debt free.
He set beside bed.
“See?”
I read.
Brandon Reeves and Rachel Reeves.
Their names.
“Congratulations.”
“You said that years ago.”
“I’m old.”
Then he laughed.
“I kept thinking River Oaks was proof I was successful.”
“Yes.”
“This house is smaller.”
“Yes.”
“Worth less.”
“Yes.”
“Feels more mine.”
“Because it is.”
Then:
“And Rachel’s.”
“Correct.”
He smiled.
Then he pulled antique watch.
“I want Olivia to have after I die.”
“Does she want?”
“She says yes now.”
Good.
Then:
“I’m putting in will.”
Paperwork.
Marianne would laugh.
Then Brandon asked:
“Dad, what was the biggest thing Redwood ever owned?”
I thought.
Maybe industrial park.
Maybe bond portfolio.
“Financially?”
“Yes.”
I named commercial property.
Then:
“Not River Oaks?”
“No.”
He laughed.
“I really picked stupid hill.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“What was most valuable thing you owned?”
Trick.
I answered:
“My time.”
He rolled eyes.
“Corny.”
“It’s true.”
Then:
“I spent too much working.”
“You gave me too much money.”
“We both overcorrected.”
He smiled.
Then I asked him to open bedside drawer.
Inside was brown paper fragment? no, we threw. Better just old photo of Marianne and young Brandon.
He pulled.
“She looks young.”
“She was.”
Then:
“Keep.”
He cried.
Not hidden stock certificate.
A photo.
Then my final directions.
No River Oaks.
No dramatic mansion.
Cremation beside Marianne? I can choose.
“Small service.”
“Yes.”
“No company speeches longer than three minutes.”
He laughed.
“Okay.”
“No one calls me self made.”
“Why?”
“Because employees.”
Good.
Then:
“Redwood plan stands.”
“Yes.”
“Do not sue foundation.”
He laughed.
“I won’t.”
Then serious.
“I don’t want more.”
There.
No one asks that enough.
Then he said:
“I’m sorry I ever thought your death would be promotion.”
My eyes filled.
I remembered his investor deck.
Q1 succession.
Age thirty.
Expanded family capital.
He had planned future around me stepping aside.
Now he sat terrified of losing me.
People change.
I squeezed hand.
“You were thirty.”
“That doesn’t excuse.”
“No.”
Then:
“But you’re sixty one now.”
Time.
Thirty one years since assault.
Longer than his life before it.
I slept.
Woke at night.
Brandon still there.
“Go home.”
“No.”
“Rachel?”
“Fine.”
“Olivia?”
“Fine.”
Then:
“You don’t owe vigil.”
He smiled.
“I know.”
That was why he stayed.
Choice.
The next morning, Marcus visited.
Very old too.
“You’re hard to kill.”
“Legal bills kept me alive.”
He laughed.
Then:
“Any regrets?”
“Many.”
“Sale?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Good deal.”
Then:
“Eleven forty nine.”
We both remembered.
At noon Brandon wheeled me to window.
Sun.
Ordinary.
No black SUVs.
No movers.
No shouting.
Just life.
I said:
“Promise me something.”
“What?”
“Do not make story about house.”
He frowned.
“What is it about?”
I looked at him.
“A deed can tell you who owns property.”
Then:
“It cannot tell you who owns another person.”
May you like
He understood.
That was all.
