“More difficult how?”
“Well, in some cases, people try to accuse the property owner of abandonment or of having verbally gifted them the rights. It’s rare, but it happens. If you have proof that they knew the house was yours and still tried to get you out, that protects you completely.”
I nodded, processing every word.
“And if I wanted them to leave, can I just ask them to vacate my house?”
“Of course. It’s your house. You can ask them to leave whenever you want. If they refuse, then we would have to begin a formal eviction process. But with the paperwork in order as you have it, it would be a relatively simple process.”
I was silent for a moment. The word eviction sounded so harsh, so cold, but it also sounded like justice.
“How much would all this cost? I mean, if I needed your help later…”
“Today’s consultation is no charge. It’s complimentary. If you later need me to initiate any legal action, we can discuss the fees at that time. But to be honest with you, Mrs. Lopez, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I hope you can resolve this within the family.”
I thanked him. I shook his hand and walked out of that office feeling stronger than when I went in. I had an ally. I had information. I had a plan.
When I got home, it was almost noon. I walked in and found Chloe and Linda in my bedroom. My bedroom. The door was wide open and they were going through my closet.
“What are you doing?” I asked from the doorway, and my voice was louder than I expected.
Chloe spun around, startled. Linda didn’t even flinch.
“Oh, Eleanor, you scared us,” Chloe said, putting a hand to her chest. “We were just looking at your clothes. You have so many things you don’t wear anymore, don’t you? We thought we could do a clean-out and donate what you don’t need.”
“Who gave you permission to come into my room?”
“Oh, Mom, don’t be upset. We just wanted to help.”
“I don’t need that kind of help,” I said, walking toward them. “And I want you to get out of my room now.”
Linda looked at me with that offended expression I had come to know so well.
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“You don’t have to be rude, Eleanor. We were just trying to help you get organized. At your age, it’s easy to accumulate things that are no longer useful.”
At your age. That phrase again—as if I were an old woman, incapable of managing my own things.
“Out,” I repeated, and this time I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed. “Both of you. Out of my room.”
Chloe left first, her head down like a scolded child. But Linda brushed past me and looked me directly in the eye.
“You’re being very selfish, Eleanor. This family is trying to move forward, and you’re just in the way.”
In the way. There it was—the word they had been thinking all this time, but hadn’t dared to say out loud. I was an obstacle in my own house, in my own life.
