—
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into Mom’s driveway behind me.
Still wearing their wedding clothes.
Lisa stepped from the car first.
Then froze.
The old brass 17 was gone.
New identification was mounted beside the door.
Two volunteers were carrying freshly folded sheets into the house.
Another man was assembling a bed near the living-room window.
Dad marched toward them.
“What exactly is happening here?”
A woman from the organization approached.
“We’re preparing the property for our first guests.”
“What guests?”
“Cancer patients receiving treatment nearby and their caregivers.”
Lisa slowly turned toward Dad.
“No.”
Dad pointed toward the house.
“This belonged to my wife.”
“Yes.”
The calmness of that single word seemed to upset him more than an argument would have.
“Who authorized this?”
“Cathy.”
Lisa stepped forward.
“She gave away the entire house?”
The woman nodded.
“She transferred ownership to our organization while retaining a lifetime right of residence.”
