Chapter 11 - A Name on My Papers
The document was a photocopy, not proof of anything by itself. But I recognized my own typed name, my old address, and a date when I had been in a rehabilitation clinic for a broken ankle.
"I never signed this," I told Andrea. "I signed a different paper years ago naming Malcolm."
Andrea checked with the clinic and the notary whose stamp appeared on the copy. The notary said she had no record of witnessing the form. A quick review suggested the stamp had been copied from an unrelated document. Andrea advised us to report the suspected forgery and notify every care provider that the paper was disputed.
My stomach tightened when I thought of the months Sloane had insisted on accompanying me to appointments. She answered questions before I could. She told staff I forgot medication. She once tried to keep me overnight at a facility I had visited only for physical therapy.
"I thought she wanted me comfortable," I said.
Malcolm looked at the floor. "I told her I was grateful she handled things."
"Then learn the difference between help and control."
He nodded. It was not forgiveness, not yet. But he was learning to bear hearing the truth.
The mysterious flowers turned out to have been ordered by Denise, who had found the copy of the power of attorney in a trash bag years earlier and forgotten about it until Sloane began attacking my judgment. She wanted to make sure I saw it without another conversation about whether to come forward.
"Next time," I told her gently, "call first. I'm old. I don't need mystery envelopes."
We all smiled, briefly.
May you like
Then Andrea's assistant entered the room with a printed filing. Sloane had submitted an emergency petition, saying Malcolm was an absent parent and I was an unstable influence on Maya. Attached was a blurry photograph of me on the carpet, taken from a carefully cropped angle.
The part showing Sloane's foot had been cut away.
