The Wrong Number

Last month, my phone rang. A woman's voice came through before I could even say hello ... hurried, breathless, already mid-sentence. She was talking about a property case, legal proceedings, some deed or transfer. Clearly a wrong number. But there was a slight tremor in her voice that made me hold the phone and wait.

She was around sixty. She had given away everything ... her house, her properties ... distributed among her three children as gift deeds. On their persuasion, she'd moved in with her eldest son. The house she'd lived in all her life went on the market. Then the son asked her to leave. The other two wouldn't take her in either. And the house was still being sold.

She was calling her lawyer when she dialed me instead.

When she finally paused, I told her gently that she had the wrong number. She apologized. But before she could hang up, I mentioned ... almost as an afterthought .... that there's a provision in law that allows parents to revoke gift deeds if their children neglect them. She thanked me quietly and the line went dead.

Last week, she called again. I recognized the voice immediately.

"I think you've misdialed again," I said.

"No," she said. "This time I meant to call you."

Her lawyers had tried to talk her out of it ... too much conflict, better to settle amicably. She didn't agree. She wanted her property back. She was pursuing it.

She called to thank a stranger who had accidentally picked up her call.

I was genuinely glad for her. Though I'll admit ... do hope she hasn't passed my number along to her disgruntled children.😬