…sold to her estate sale company. By your power of attorney.”
I’d never signed a power of attorney.
The woman’s company was called Heritage Estate Sales. Her name was Joan Lindqvist. When I called her, she went very quiet.
“Mrs. Collins?” she said. “Margaret Collins? From Lincoln High School? I sat next to you in chemistry.”
Joan had recognized my name on the paperwork. Something had felt wrong. She’d taken the remaining items, about forty pieces of furniture, my wedding china and three boxes of photographs, but she hadn’t sold any of them. She’d been trying to reach me for a week at a phone number that turned out to belong to my daughter-in-law.
The power of attorney had been forged by my daughter-in-law, Brooke. My son had taken the dining table and the tea set two months earlier, believing Brooke’s story that I’d “said they could have them.” Brooke had then decided to sell everything else and keep the money.
The “break-in” and the insurance claim had been her idea too.
I withdrew the insurance claim that afternoon and explained everything to the insurance company. Then I went to the police.
Brooke was charged with forgery and theft. My son returned my grandmother’s table and my mother’s tea set in the back of his truck the next weekend. He couldn’t look me in the eye.
Joan delivered everything else herself. We sat at my grandmother’s table that afternoon, drinking tea from my mother’s silver set, and talked about chemistry class for two hours. I’ve been trying to convince her to join my book club ever since.
