“By whom?”
She looked at me with the expression that had always preceded the pivot in these conversations, the moment when the specific was abandoned in favor of the general and the general was always some version of after everything we’ve done.
“Caroline,” she said, “after everything we’ve done for you over the years, we think it’s reasonable to expect”
“Mom.” My voice was not raised. It was the voice I used in board meetings when someone had said something that required addressing before the conversation continued. “I’d like to finish reviewing the document before we discuss expectations.”
She stopped.
I went through the remaining items. The tuition assistance, which had been partially accurate, though they had listed the full semester amounts rather than their actual contributions, which had been partial, the remainder covered by my own part-time work and a merit scholarship I had won in my second year. The groceries, which I had not disputed because the amount was small and the record-keeping was imprecise enough that it was not worth the time. A plane ticket from 2019 that I did not remember them purchasing and which had no documentation attached.
When I finished, I set the document down again and folded my hands on the table in front of me.
“This document has no legal standing,” I said.
My father’s expression sharpened. “We can make it legal.”
“You can try,” I said. “A lawyer will tell you that parental financial support provided to an adult child without a written loan agreement, signed by both parties at the time of transfer, does not constitute recoverable debt. The standard is not whether you considered it a loan. The standard is whether it was documented as one at the time.” I paused. “It wasn’t. Because it wasn’t a loan. It was financial support, which you provided sometimes generously and sometimes with significant strings attached, but which was never formalized as debt.”
