Daniel had been an authorized user on two of them, but the accounts were mine.
I read through the summary twice.
Then I removed Daniel’s name from the authorized user accounts.
It took about 4 minutes on the bank’s website.
I sat there waiting for something dramatic to happen, some alarm, some resistance.
There was none, just a confirmation screen, just a change in a database somewhere.
I closed the laptop and went to make coffee.
My brother-in-law called that afternoon, angrier than I had ever heard him.
“She tried to use the card,” he said. “My mother tried to pay a deposit and the card was declined.”
“She’s not an authorized user,” I said.
“She’s been using that card for years.”
“As a courtesy,” I said. “A courtesy that I extended and have now ended.”
“You can’t just—”
He stopped, restarted.
“Daniel just died. You’re doing this right now.”
“I’m protecting my financial assets during a period of legal uncertainty,” I said, which was what Patricia had told me to say. “If your family wants to make funeral arrangements, they’re welcome to use their own funds, and I will contribute what I determine is appropriate once I have a clearer picture of the estate.”
He called me several things after that.
I let him finish.
Then I said, “I’ll be in touch,” and ended the call.
My hands were shaking slightly when I put the phone down, but it was the kind of shaking that comes after you do something hard, not the kind that comes from fear.
There’s a difference, and I was just beginning to learn it.
