He was inconvenienced.

He believed, even now, caught, on speakerphone, at a courthouse, that this was a matter of me not yet grasping his perspective.

And I understood that my father had a kind of certainty about his own entitlement so complete that it could not imagine itself as wrong, only as misunderstood.

Chapter 10 — A Forged Deed With My Signature

Before I could answer him, my grandmother stepped closer to the phone in my hand, and spoke, and her voice was clear and commanding and entirely without weakness.

“We’re at the county courthouse, Arthur,” she said.