Chapter 21 - Frank Tells the Truth
Dad asked me to lunch.
He brought a folder.
I almost laughed.
“No surprise documents.”
He smiled sadly.
“No.”
Inside:
A handwritten timeline.
Original financial crisis.
Sale.
First six mortgage payments.
When he stopped paying.
Every major repair I covered.
He had reconstructed.
At bottom:
Approximate direct payments by Rebecca over seven years:
Mortgage principal/interest/escrow: $224,000.
Down payment: $45,000.
Roof/furnace/major repairs: $31,000.
Total roughly $300,000.
Not all created equity.
Interest and taxes are costs.
Still.
Dad said:
“I kept telling myself you were only carrying house temporarily.”
“For seven years?”
“I needed to.”
“Why?”
“Because if I admitted you owned it, I had to admit I lost it.”
That was honest.
“And Nicole?”
“Your mother and I promised her before any of this.”
“Why?”
“She loved house.”
“She was sixteen.”
“We made stupid promises.”
“Then instead of telling her promise was impossible, you tried to make it true.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“I also liked that she needed me.”
There.
Same pattern.
“Rebecca never needed me after twenty five.”
“I needed you as father.”
“Not financially.”
“Was that required?”
He smiled sadly.
“I thought so.”
That explained why my success became threat.
My parents had mistaken dependence for closeness.
Nicole remained dependent.
I did not.
So they invested in her branch.
And then resented me when my money became necessary.
Dad continued:
“When you bought house, I should’ve told everybody: Rebecca saved us and now it is hers.”
“Yes.”
“I was ashamed.”
“I know.”
“Does knowing help?”
“A little.”
He nodded.
Then:
“I don’t want you paying anything else for me.”
“Good.”
“I mean it.”
“Good.”
“I set up automatic rent.”
I laughed.
“Congratulations.”
“I hate you.”
“Family trait.”
We smiled.
That lunch was first time I felt relationship might survive.
May you like
Not return.
Survive in new form.
