“You asked a circuit court judge to take my name off the deed,” I said.

“We’re sixty-six and sixty-three years old, Evelyn,” he said, his hearty boom turning sharp at the edges.

“We can’t leave county property in legal limbo while you figure out what you’re doing with your life.”

“I live here,” I said.

“You stayed away six years,” he said.

“I was deployed in the Pacific,” I said.

“A house needs an owner who’s actually here, not a tenant who sends mail from across the ocean,” he said.

“I’m not a tenant on my grandfather’s land,” I said.