I looked at her.
"I'm protecting my home from people who think they can remove me from it."
Several guests were now watching openly.
A middle-aged woman approached, looking mortified.
"Eleanor, I'm Megan's aunt Patricia, and I want to apologize because we were told you knew about everything."
My throat tightened.
"What exactly were you told?"
Patricia glanced toward Megan.
"That Robert had arranged the cottage and you preferred to stay with friends."
The room fell silent.
I slowly turned toward my son.
"You told them I chose not to come?"
Robert opened his mouth, then closed it.
Megan stepped forward.
"We were trying to make everything comfortable."
"By telling people I had voluntarily given up my bedroom?"
Nobody answered.
Another guest began gathering beach bags.
Patricia turned to her family.
"We're leaving because this isn't right."
I felt an unexpected wave of relief.
The visitors weren't responsible for knowing a private arrangement had been fabricated.
Most had accepted an invitation from someone they believed had permission to give it.
Within minutes, suitcases appeared near the front door.
A few guests apologized quietly, and one older gentleman offered to help remove the wet towels from my quilt.
Megan watched her carefully arranged gathering disintegrate.
Then her expression hardened.
"You've humiliated our entire family."
I looked toward the strangers struggling to carry their belongings outside.
"No, Megan, someone misled them about whose home they were entering."
Robert approached me.
"Please, Mom, can we discuss this privately?"
"We should have discussed it before you invited anyone."
He lowered his voice.
"You're making a family disagreement into a legal matter."
"Because you turned my private home into a place where its owner wasn't welcome."
Megan suddenly pointed toward my handbag.
"What's so important about that lawyer, anyway?"
I hesitated.
There was something I had intended to tell Robert gently, under entirely different circumstances.
Three weeks earlier, after hearing Megan's plans for the sunroom, I had revised my estate instructions.
For decades, Henry and I had expected Robert to inherit the cottage.
But inheritance had never been an unconditional promise, and recent conversations made me question what would happen to our beloved home.
Under my revised plan, the cottage would eventually be sold after my death unless I chose to make another arrangement.
Part of the proceeds would help provide educational support for my grandchildren, and another portion would establish a scholarship fund.
Robert would still receive an inheritance.
He simply would not automatically receive the cottage itself.
"I changed my estate plan," I told him.
He stared at me.
"What?"
"The beach house will no longer automatically pass to you."
Megan's face became rigid.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
Robert leaned against the counter.
"You changed the will without telling me?"
I heard the accusation in his voice.
"Whose estate, Robert?"
He swallowed.
"I just thought Dad wanted the house kept in the family."
"Your father wanted me to feel safe in the home we built."
Megan spoke before he could answer.
"That's unbelievably selfish."
I looked at the wedding photograph behind her.
Henry had been laughing when that picture was taken, and I remembered how he had promised to spend our lives making each other feel cherished.
He hadn't worked for decades so that his widow could be pushed into a hotel.
The final guests departed shortly before sunset.
Their cars disappeared one by one, leaving tire marks across the sandy driveway.
Robert and Megan remained behind, standing in the kitchen beside their overnight bags.
I asked them to take their belongings and leave as well.
Robert looked exhausted.
"Mom, can we talk tomorrow?"
"We can talk when you understand that visiting requires my permission."
Megan snatched up her purse.
"You've made your point."
She headed toward the door without saying goodbye.
Robert lingered.
For one fleeting moment, I thought he might apologize.
Instead, he whispered, "I hope you're happy."
Then he followed his wife outside.
I stood by the window until their car vanished beyond the dunes.
Later, Robert received Mr. Collins's formal notice informing him that the lockbox code and any previous standing authorization were revoked.
I changed the emergency access arrangements and secured the spare keys.
The cottage felt enormous after everyone left.
I washed Henry's mug, folded my quilt, and returned our wedding photograph to its proper place.