Chapter 24 - The house appraisal
For unrelated refinancing, an appraiser came to Ashford House.
Maribel followed him around asking:
“How much is my room?”
He laughed.
“Rooms don’t get separate prices like that.”
She looked at me triumphantly.
I knew exactly why.
Later:
“So Delphine couldn’t own my room?”
“No.”
“Could she own the kitchen?”
“No.”
“Pool?”
“No.”
“Tree?”
“No.”
“The driveway?”
“No.”
She smiled.
Then:
“Do I own anything?”
“Your books. Clothes. Some toys. The bracelet your grandmother gave you.”
“The scrapbook?”
“What’s left of it is yours.”
We had restored as much as possible.
Her friend had recreated several pages.
Then Maribel asked:
“Will this house be mine when you die?”
Not a question I expected at breakfast.
“Estate plans can change over a lifetime. You will be provided for. But I don’t want you living today based on what you might inherit someday.”
She frowned.
“Too many words.”
“Probably.”
I tried again.
May you like
“You’re my daughter. You have a home here because I’m your dad, not because you own the deed.”
She understood that.
