> You have asked whether we can put your name on the deed. The answer is no. You said it was only for security, but security built on another person’s promise is not security. It is dependence. I know you are struggling. I know you are afraid of failing as a husband and father. But you need to build a life that stands because you built it, not because your mother leaves the door open.
Patrick closed his eyes.
He remembered that conversation now.
Not clearly, but enough.
He and Megan had been arguing about money. Their landlord had raised the rent, the construction company had reduced his hours, and Megan had been pregnant with their first child. Patrick had asked George whether he could borrow against the lake house to make a down payment on a property.
George had refused.
Patrick had been furious.
“You’d rather let the bank have it than help me?” he had asked.
George had replied, “I’m trying to help you without making you dependent on me.”
Patrick had left before dinner.
A week later, George had called him to the lake house. He had handed Patrick an envelope containing a check large enough to cover six months of rent and a note that said the money was a loan, though George never asked for repayment.
Patrick had accepted the check.
He had forgotten the note.
Or chosen not to remember it.
“What did you do?” Megan asked quietly.
Patrick opened his eyes.
“I asked him to put me on the deed.”
She didn’t look surprised.
