"When I turned 80, I threw a party for my whole family. No one showed up. I called my son, and that’s when my daughter-in-law answered: “We’re traveling. Go do some cleaning.” A week later, they came back home and found the new owners... The shrew froze when it happened....

On Thursday afternoon, Janine was sitting in Harold Brennan’s private office sipping Earl Grey tea when her phone lit up on the mahogany desk.

It was Tatum.

Janine placed the phone on speaker.

“Janine?” Tatum’s voice was loud, accompanied by the dull thrum of a boat engine and the clinking of glasses. “Janine, are you listening to me?”

“I am here, Tatum,” Janine replied calmly.

“Look, we’re out on a catamaran charter right now, so my reception is spotty. I forgot to mention before we left—we’re hosting brunch for my tennis group on Tuesday morning. I need you to wash the beige slipcovers on the living room sofa and have them ironed. And make sure you get the organic berries from the farmers market on Saturday morning. Tyson said to take the cash out of your social security check; we’ll pay you back next month.”

Janine looked across the desk at Harold, who was resting his chin on his steepled fingers, listening with cold, professional fascination.

“Is that all, Tatum?”

“No, it’s not all,” Tatum snapped, clearly annoyed by Janine’s lack of frantic acquiescence. “Marcus told me he spilled orange soda on the runner in the hallway. Get the carpet cleaner out before it sets into the hardwood. And for heaven’s sake, make sure the bathrooms are spotless. Marcus has allergies, and if there’s dust in the vents, he’ll be coughing all week.”

“I will ensure everything is handled appropriately,” Janine said.

“Fine. Tyson wants to speak to you.”

There was a rustle of wind, followed by Tyson’s voice. His words were slightly slurred, heavy with expensive tequila and self-indulgence.

“Mom? Hey. Listen, the resort had some mandatory resort fees and a hold on the card for the boat rental. I need you to transfer three thousand from your savings to my checking account right now. The internet here is slow, so just do it through your phone app.”

“Three thousand dollars, Tyson?” Janine asked quietly. “That is nearly half of my emergency liquid reserves.”

“Mom, don’t start with the dramatic guilt trip, okay? You’re living in a million-dollar house rent-free. What do you need three grand for anyway? You don’t go anywhere. Just do the transfer. We’ll talk about it when we get back on Sunday. Have the roast ready around five. The boys will be hungry.”

“Have a safe flight, Tyson,” Janine said.

She pressed the red button, ending the call.

Harold leaned forward, pulling out his laptop. “I have already transferred your personal checking and savings balances into the newly established Janine E. Miller Irrevocable Trust at Northern Trust Bank. Tyson’s name has been expunged from all authorization cards. The joint overdraft facility has been revoked. If he attempts to swipe his card for thirty dollars, let alone three thousand, it will be declined for insufficient funds.”