My Mom “Forgot” To Save Dessert For My Son At The Christmas Party And Said, “We Didn’t Set Any Aside.”

It was a lifetime of being told I was too independent, too emotional, too much.

And now my 10-year-old was getting handed the same script.

When Chris texted me later that afternoon, he suggested we meet in person, someplace neutral. We picked a small coffee shop a few blocks from my place, the kind with fogged up windows and people working on laptops. He was already there when I walked in.

A half-finished coffee in front of him, fingers drumming on the table.

“You look like hell,” he said quietly when I sat down.

I laughed once because coming from him that was almost concern.

“Welcome to the dark side,” I said. I told him about the Facebook post, about the caption, about how Noah and I had been erased from the picture like we were never there.

He shook his head slowly.

I saw mom post it. He admitted.

I did not realize you were not in the photo until you said it out loud.

That is how deep this goes.

I said. They can cut us out and still tell themselves they are good people.

Chris leaned back and rubbed his face. He told me then what he had found out from talking to our parents’ lawyer, that there was a family trust and a little web of LLC’s wrapped around the lakehouse in Michigan and some other assets, and that my name was still on one of the deeds as a co-owner from years ago when I helped pay for repairs.

Suddenly, that phrase sealing everything made a lot more sense.

Dad called the lawyer after Christmas.

Chris said he wanted to move some things around, make sure certain people were protected. His words, not mine.

The lawyer told him he could not just shuffle assets without notifying all the owners.

So, they might have to temporarily freeze or seal the paperwork until they heard from you. Hence, 33 missed calls.

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