“I’m not asking you to give it away. I’m offering you money.”
“Less than half its value.”
“You wouldn’t have to deal with an agent, inspections, closing delays, or strangers walking through your house. I’d handle everything.”
“I’m still not selling.”
For the first time, something cold flashed across his face.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice.
“Dad, think about this realistically. You’re getting older. You can’t maintain this place forever. Eventually, you’re going to need help. Why not let me take it off your hands now, while you can still enjoy the money?”
“I don’t need the money, son.”
“Everyone needs money.”
“I need this house,” I told him. “I need this land. It’s the life your mother and I built. It’s what I have left of her.”
His jaw tightened. I saw the muscles in his neck become rigid.
