“What can I do?”
“Whatever you want. You can evict them. You can charge them back rent. You can sell the house. Legally, they are your tenants without a lease. They have no rights to the property.”
I felt a smile spread across my face.
Not a happy smile.
A smile of justice.
“I’ll be at your office tomorrow at 8:00 in the morning.”
“I’ll be waiting, Aunt B. And bring all the papers—deeds, receipts, proofs of payment, everything.”
I hung up and took a deep breath.
Then I dialed another number.
“Hello.”
A male voice, half asleep, answered.
“Mr. Hector, it’s Beatatric Torres. I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Mrs. Betty, what happened? Are you okay?”
Mr. Hector was a close family friend, a notary for thirty years. He handled David’s will and the deeds for this house.
“I need you to review some documents tomorrow about the house in the community.”
“Did something happen?”
“Let’s just say I’m going to assert my rights.”
I heard Mr. Hector shift in his chair.
“Are Daniel and his wife giving you trouble?”
“You could say that.”
“Oh, Mrs. Betty, I warned you not to transfer the house until you were sure.”
“I know, my friend, and you were right. That’s why I’m calling. I need your advice.”
“My office, 10:00 tomorrow. And bring everything.”
“I’ll be there.”
I hung up and dialed the last number.
This one was the hardest.
“Beatatric,” my friend Linda answered. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
Linda and I had known each other for forty years. We were neighbors back in the suburbs. Our sons grew up together. She was widowed two years before me.
“Linda, is the room you were going to rent still available? The one upstairs?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Can I move in tomorrow?”
Silence.
“What happened, my friend?”
And then for the first time all night, my voice broke.
“I can’t do it anymore, Linda. I can’t keep being invisible in my own house.”
“You come tomorrow,” Linda said in a firm voice. “Whenever you want. I’ll be waiting.”
I hung up the phone.
And then, yes, I allowed myself to cry.
But I didn’t cry from sadness.
I cried from relief.
Because after three years of humiliation, I was finally going to get my dignity back.
And they—all of them—toasting with expensive wine while I ate leftovers, were about to learn the hardest lesson of their lives.
