“Margaret, this isn’t over. We have legal rights. The papers you signed give us power.”
“Those papers?” I took the folder I had taken to the lawyer out of my purse. “Are you referring to these papers that have already been nullified? or these other ones where it’s proven that you pressured me to sign without legal representation.”
Her face fell even from a distance. I could see how reality hit her like a hammer.
“That’s impossible. Those documents are valid.”
“They were valid until Mr. Davies proved there was emotional coercion. It turns out the law protects senior citizens from abusive children. Who would have thought?”
David stood up abruptly, so fast that the step planks creaked.
“We are not abusive. Everything we did was for your own good.”
“For my own good, David, look around. Look at this farm I built with my own hands. Look at this house where I raised you. Do you really think I don’t know what’s good for me?”
I walked to the garden where my roses were. The same ones I had planted when he was little, and asked me why flowers had thorns, to protect themselves from those who want to hurt them. I had explained then. I never thought that one day he would be one of those threats.
“Look, David, do you see these roses? I planted them 20 years ago. I’ve cared for them, pruned them, protected them from pests. No one else knows how to care for them like I do. No one else knows how much water they need, when to fertilize them, how to protect them from the cold.”
I turned to him, holding the white rose I had cut.
“This farm is the same. I know how every foot of this land works. I know every tree, every animal, every problem that can arise. I’ve managed droughts, floods, pests, low prices, high prices. I’ve done it alone for years, especially after your father died.”
“But mom—”
