Chapter 8: The Offer She Made Too Late
The call from Brittany's lawyer came on a Thursday, eleven days after the birthday party.
Grace took it in my living room while I sat in the chair by the window with my hands in my lap and listened to one side of the conversation.
"Yes...
I have the filing date...
No, that timeline doesn't work for my client...
She's not interested in a private resolution that doesn't include the state filing...
Mr.
Osei's documentation has been authenticated, yes...
I understand your client's position...
Let me be direct with you."
Grace paused.
She was looking at her legal pad.
"The forgery is not a matter of interpretation.
The signature analysis has been completed by a certified examiner.
It doesn't match your client's husband at any stress level or writing speed.
A judge will see that in the first five minutes of any hearing." She listened.
"I understand.
But a fast reversal with cooperation is not the same as accountability, and my client has been clear about what she wants." Another pause, longer this time.
"That's your offer?
Then I'll communicate it and call you back by end of day."
She hung up.
"Well?" I said.
"They're offering full reversal, signed within five business days.
No contest.
They'll cover the filing costs." Grace set her phone down.
"In exchange, they want the state complaint withdrawn."
"And if I don't withdraw it?"
"They'll contest the reversal on procedural grounds.
They know they'll lose, but it adds sixty to ninety days and raises your legal costs."
"Can they really do that?"
"They can delay it.
They can't win it." She looked at me steadily.
"Dorothy.
I have to give you my honest assessment."
"Please."
"If we keep the state filing, it will go on record.
Her name, the LLC, the forged signature — all of it.
But it may take another six months, and she'll spend that six months trying to pull Marcus into it.
Her lawyer hinted at that just now.
They used the phrase 'full account of all parties involved.'"
"She'd lie about Marcus."
"She'd try." Grace folded her hands.
"The reversal is certain either way.
The question is the record, and what it costs your son."
I was quiet for a long time.
Outside the window, a neighbor's child was riding a bicycle up the sidewalk, wobbling at the cracks, correcting, going on.
"What does Marcus say?" I asked.
"I spoke with him this morning.
He said —" she glanced at her notes — "he said, 'Whatever Mama decides, I'll stand behind it.'"
I thought about my husband's foundation under this house.
I thought about forty-two years of Sunday dinners in this kitchen and my gold headscarf and the cake lying ruined on the floor.
"I want the reversal," I said.
"Fast.
Clean.
And I want one condition."
"Name it."
"She signs a statement.
Not for the court.
For me.
A private document that says in plain language what she did and that Marcus had no knowledge of it.
Signed by her.
Witnessed." I paused.
"I'm not interested in destroying her publicly.
But I am not going to let her spend the rest of her life pretending she made a mistake.
She needs to know that I know exactly what she did."
Grace was quiet for a moment.
"Her lawyer will push back."
"I expect so."
"She may refuse."
"Then we go back to the state filing and she can explain the forgery to whoever wants to listen." I looked at Grace.
"She came to this house in her good earrings to tell me she could make things difficult for my son.
I want her to understand that the difficulty runs both ways."
Grace picked up her phone and started dialing.
May you like
Three hours later, Brittany's lawyer called back.
She would sign the statement.
