Tough crowd.
I already had an idea.
And I needed them to believe I’d surrendered.
Tough crowd.
***
Trey’s parents had lived in the same apartment for 12 years.
It was so small that opening the refrigerator blocked the exit.
During our last visit, I’d noticed several moving boxes hidden near the back of the apartment.
Bella claimed she was reorganizing.
It was so small.
I’d also seen a notice under some flyers about the building changing ownership.
When I’d asked about it, Bella waved me off. “Landlord business. Nothing that concerns you.”
Now that she wanted my house, I was extremely concerned.
***
That same afternoon, I drove to my in-laws’ apartment building while they ransacked my house.
Bella waved me off.
I saw the notice now displayed near the entrance.
This time, I read it carefully.
The building had been sold, and residents had been advised to contact management about lease renewals.
I took a picture and called the number listed.
I read it carefully.
“Hello,” I said. “My husband and I were told we might be moving into an apartment here. How would that work?”
The property manager, Emersyn, confirmed what I’d suspected: tenants couldn’t simply hand their apartments over to relatives.
Any new occupants needed approval and a new lease.
“Are all the apartments available for renewal?” I asked.
“How would that work?”
“Not all of them. Some units are being taken off the rental market.”
“What about someone hoping to move in next month?”
“They’d need to apply for an available unit. Nobody should assume they’ll have an apartment without an approved lease.”
I thanked her.
“Not all of them.”
Emersyn had told me enough to know that Trey’s plan rested on assumptions.
And I knew exactly who to question next.
***
That evening, Bella called about curtains.
Not moving arrangements.
Curtains.
Trey’s plan.
“Those gray things in your living room are dreadful,” my MIL announced.
“They’re blackout curtains, Bella.”
“Exactly. Like living in a cave.”
“Would you prefer sunshine or an exorcism?”
She ignored me.
“Like living in a cave.”
I asked whether she’d spoken to her landlord about transferring the apartment to us.
Silence.
Then she said, “Trey will handle everything.”
Interesting.
***
After dinner, I asked Trey whether he’d seen his parents’ lease.
“No. Why?”
“Trey will handle everything.”
“Because we’re apparently moving into their apartment. I thought checking whether we’re allowed to live there might be useful.”
He sighed. “Why do you always complicate things? Mom said it’s fine.”
“Did the landlord say it’s fine?”
He stared at me. “She’s my mother, Josie.”
“Mom said it’s fine.”
“Congratulations! Unfortunately, motherhood doesn’t come with a real estate license.”
He walked away.
I let him.
***
The following morning, I contacted Karen, a real estate attorney.
He walked away.
Our house was in both our names. We’d bought it together after we got married, and we were both responsible for the mortgage.
Karen reviewed our documents.
She confirmed that Trey couldn’t simply give away my ownership interest.
His verbal promise didn’t transfer the property, and I wasn’t required to move out because he’d made plans with his parents.
Karen reviewed our documents.
“Whatever happens,” Karen advised, “don’t sign anything without reviewing it. And make your position clear in writing.”
