The Breaking Point. Mariella Starr

slam shut. She wasn’t sure how she could tell the difference, but she could.

      “Okay, tell me. What has put that worried look in your eyes?” Faith asked.

      “I’ll get to that in a few minutes,” Ales said, and he retrieved his briefcase and removed a folder. “Tyrell’s wife pulled this together for us.”

      “Her name is Sheila,” Faith chided him softly.

      “Sorry,” Ales said. “The truth is, Tyrell is my business partner and my best friend since college. I’ve confided some of my stupider stunts to him while you were in the hospital. He’s been my sounding board for ages. I talked to him, and he talked to Sheila. Since she’s a real estate agent, she pulled this portfolio together.”

      “Do you want to move?” Faith asked, opening the folder.

      “I hadn’t thought about it before, but it makes sense. You never really liked the house, and I bulldozed you into our buying it. I wasn’t treating you fairly, and after what happened, I remembered when we bought it. Like your car, it wasn’t a decision we made together. I made the decision. My goal was not to commute and to live in the same town where my business was located. I got what I wanted, but you didn’t. It wasn’t fair to you.

      “Moving would be a compromise for both of us. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to go back to Morgantown. These properties are well within a decent driving distance of both Cumberland and Frostburg. We’re starting a new phase of our marriage, so why not move and start over in a new house, too!”

      “Can we afford to move?” Faith asked.

      Ales nodded. “We bought our house in a down-swing of the housing market; it’s increased substantially in value. Also, our house is architecturally different from most of the housing in the area. Most of the housing is older homes, small post-war bungalows, or track homes, mostly ranch styles, or split-levels built in the 1970s or ‘80s. If we moved further westward toward Frostburg, and beyond the town or city limits, we would get a lot more house for our money. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look at what’s available.”

      “We’d have to investigate the schools ahead of time. It’s a big decision to make,” Faith warned.

      “Sheila would be able to give us all that information ahead of time,” Ales said.

      “You didn’t want to live away from where your business was located,” Faith reminded him.

      “I was wrong, and I’m trying to make amends,” Ales said. “Look through these listings. Sheila has notated the distance to both our work destinations.”

      “You want to sell our house and move?” Faith repeated. She was surprised and not trusting what she was hearing.

      “Yes, if we can find a place we both agree on. I think it’s a compromise, and some payback on my side,” Ales said. “I know you would love to live here. I wouldn’t mind living here, but a one-hundred-mile round trip commute to Frostburg for you isn’t going to work. I’m trying to be fair, and I’m walking a fine line, Faith. I want to do what is right because I have been taking advantage of you for the last couple of years.

      “I was wrong, and I am sorry. I’ve been acting like a dictator, not a husband. My goal should be and will be, to do what is best for our family, not solely myself. You are never going to be able to walk into our house, and not remember what my mother did to your work.”

      “I have been worried about that,” Faith said. “Ricco may not be too happy with having to change schools. He would have to make new friends.”

      “It’s not the end of the world for a kid to have to move. We moved a half-dozen times when I was a kid. It doesn’t become that important until you’re in high school,” Ales said.

      “I’ll look through these tomorrow, and we can discuss them when you get home,” Faith said. “I’ll go online too and see what else is available in the same general direction. Sheila is going to push what is listed by her agency. She’ll get a bigger commission that way.”

      “If we sell our house through her, she’ll also be motivated to get a better price for it. I’ll be late coming home tomorrow night, maybe very late,” Ales said. “We’re holding an intervention with my mother tomorrow evening. You are welcome to be there, but...”

      “I don’t want to be there,” Faith interjected, shaking her head. “I don’t want any interaction with Cybil.”

      “I thought you’d feel that way,” Ales said. “I don’t want you there either, but that’s my protective instincts rearing up. You’ve had to deal with my mother’s problems enough, and you almost lost your life because of her latest actions. I’m still having nightmares of you lying in that hospital bed. An intervention isn’t going to be easy, but the three of us think it’s necessary. Mack and John feel the same. They plan to be there as support for their wives, because you know Mom is going to jump all over Jill and Carrie.”

      “Can Cybil be forced into rehabilitation?”

      “According to Dad’s lawyer, yes,” Ales said. “I’ve talked with Mr. Putney, and he explained the conservatorship to me in great detail. Dad and Mom appointed me the conservator of their estate years ago. It didn’t mean much to me at the time. They were healthy, and I wasn’t thinking in terms of my parents dying anytime soon. I didn’t know Dad was having heart problems.

      “Mr. Putney said I’m within my legal rights to take charge of Mom’s finances, and I can make health decisions for her. Mom’s recourse is to take me to court to remove the conservatorship. That takes time, and she’d have to prove that she doesn’t need it.

      “I’ve already been to the bank, showed them the legal papers, and requested copies of her accounts for the last three years, if I have to go back further I will. It’s going to take a while to sift through them. I’m not making these decisions solely; Jill and Carrie agree.

      “The conservatorship was my parents’ idea, not mine. The papers were filed in the Allegany County Courts. Except for helping with Dad’s funeral expenses, I’ve never involved myself in Mom’s business. When Carrie took Mom for a manicure appointment today, I went over and took a lot of files and unpaid bills from dad’s office. I haven’t had much time, but it looks like she’s been mismanaging the house accounts. I found a notice for overdue property taxes and other warning notices. I’m going to have to go over there and go through everything.

      “Also, I have to tell you, Mom lied about Dad’s pension being lowered. She’s been receiving monthly financial supplements from both us, and Jill and Mack. John and Carrie didn’t have much spare cash, but they have been buying her groceries, and occasionally paying her electric or gas bills. I hadn’t been inside Mom’s house for a while. She usually comes to ours. The main rooms look the same, but there are other rooms in the house that look like hoarder nests. Dad’s office is one of them. I was able to find what I needed, but I have to do a thorough search.

      “We suspect all that extra money has been going for alcohol and maybe drugs. When the bank opens tomorrow, I’ll be changing the access to her bank accounts. When Dad set up the conservatorship, he was thorough. I have a legal right to do whatever it takes to protect Mom’s assets. It’s the same thing as being her guardian. After all the years of dealing with Mom, Dad might have suspected that if he died, she would need that kind of supervision.

      “I accessed Mom’s internet contacts through Dad’s old computer. She has the passwords to certain online sites, written on post-its taped to the computer screen. She has several accounts with a Canadian drug company. I haven’t done the research into the legalities of it, yet. We’ll get into that tomorrow night.”

      “Why didn’t we see this or even suspect it?” Faith asked. “Your dad has been gone since 2014, and Cybil has become more unstable and demanding every year. She’s had more accidents too, but we attributed those to her getting older and frailer.

      “I made her very angry the week Ricco went to baseball camp. She stopped