Page 63 of Learning at 40

“Is that so?” I ask, tipping back on my heels. “Would that be under inheritance laws where she was gifted this property, or did she pick it up and slip it in her pocket to steal it?”

His all-knowing expression slowly starts to wither.

“Because according to Michigan law, it’s legal to leave a house to a person. And as inheritance implies someone has passed away, as is the current case, it’s difficult to prove sound body and mind on a dead person.”

Daniel’s mouth slowly drops open.

“In simple terms, if there was a will, there was a way this house was given to Ms. Nagle. Gifted, but not stolen.” I hate to even ask if the will had been contested, and I’m thankful when Daniel offers the information.

“I’ll contest the will.”

“You’ve already tried,” River answers.

“Was it in probate?” I ask River despite the distance between us.

“Quincy had an estate.”

I turn on Daniel. “If Dennis Quincy’s affairs were in an estate, then his will is solid.” The issue of a nonfamily member inheriting a sizable gift can be suspect. In the case of River, because she was the nurse slash caregiver to a dying man, it’s possible the family questioned the decision in the will. They might have believed she coerced Quincy into giving her the property upon his death. If she had married him, there wouldn’t have been a question—equitable property and such—but River admitted they weren’t married. Why had she told me they were?

Running the scenario through my head, if the family already contested the will once, a judge isn’t likely to repeal the decision already determined. There would have to be suspicion of foul play, and although I’ve accused River of such a thing with my watch, I was a damn fool. She hadn’t coerced a dying man to do anything.

“We’ll see,” Daniel states, turning more fully to face me. “My attorneys will be in touch.” Suit-man walks to his convertible parked near the middle of the driveway, and I approach River on her stoop. She doesn’t address me but keeps her eyes on Daniel as he reverses and pulls out of her drive. Then she turns, giving her back to me.

“River, please.” She pauses but doesn’t face me. “We need to talk.”

“We have nothing to say.”

I sigh, swiping a hand through my hair. “I misspoke. I’ll talk. You listen. Please.”

Her shoulders fall, but she doesn’t turn around.

“I fucked up. I’m sorry.” The words are not enough, and River spins to face me again.

“Where did you hear it?”

I glance up at her, confused for a second by what she’s asking.

“Who told you I stole the house? What was it? That I’m a gold digger. That I tricked a dying man into giving me his home. Or was it my favorite that I must have given good head to get him to gift me the house when he was dead?” Her voice rises as a tear falls. Quickly, she wipes it away. I haven’t seen River cry over anything other than a sick child. Her heart is so big . . . for other people’s pain.

“Someone said something at Crossroads Café. I-I misunderstood.”

“And instead of approaching me like a sane person, you show up to attack me and my character.” River shakes her head, crossing her arms once again. “I thought you knew me better than that. But I know you, and you make assumptions. You assumed I’d kidnapped your boys that first afternoon you barged into my yard. You didn’t want to hear an explanation. You just wanted to make accusations. Well, I’ve heard enough.”

“What was he doing here?” I nod toward the driveway.

“Just wanting to harass me again for what they feel is due to them.”

“Please, tell me what happened. I want to understand.”

“You had your chance to understand, Zack.”

“I made a mistake,” I say, my voice catching at her dismissal.

“So did I.” Her face saddens as her gaze lowers, coasting along the length of my body. I’m her mistake?

“Don’t-don’t say that. Please don’t hate me.”

River glances up at me, her head shaking slowly from side to side. “We aren’t ten-year-olds. I don’t hate you. I was at risk of loving you. That might have been worse. And now, I’m tired. I worked a double shift and have another shift in a few hours. Get off my property, Zack.”