“Nope.”
“Don’t you think you should tell him?”
“Nope.”
“I really think you should.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“He’d have a fit.”
“Maybe he has reason to.”
“No, he don’t.”
“The house has been in your family for generations.”
“Yep. And now it isn’t.”
Alarmed at Nonnie’s pragmatic manner, at the possible mistake being made, she asked, “But you haven’t closed on it yet, right?”
“Wrong. It was a cash deal. Closed this morning.”
Oh, God.
“Medicare doesn’t cover my most expensive meds.”
“Do you have supplemental insurance?”
Nonnie shook her head. “Canceled me a few years back.”
“Canceled you? Did you miss a premium?”
“Nope.”
“Did you omit key medical information on your application?” She was a lawyer. The question just slipped out.
“No. They said I did, though.”
“What was the basis for their claim?”
“I disclosed the multiple sclerosis. I said I wasn’t in a chair.” She motioned toward her chair. “Because I wasn’t at the time. Then I fell again and was sentenced to the damn thing. I put in a claim for it and they denied the claim and then canceled the insurance.”
Addy didn’t know a lot about insurance law, but she knew enough to know
that insurance companies had done some unethical things regarding policy cancellations.
“Did you talk to an attorney?”
“Found one on the internet. But he wasn’t sure I’d win and I couldn’t afford to pay all the money it would cost me to go to court on a chance I’d lose.”
“What did Mark say about all of this?”
“Nothing. I didn’t tell him about it.”
“Don’t you think you should have?”