Arthur Nelson Protected His Wyoming Mountain Cabin with a Trust
Bula stopped spinning her ring for a second, her fingers freezing on the metal.
“Oh, he’s just looking at the footprint, thinking about where we could put a small utility shed or maybe a guest addition later,” she said.
I knew the layout of those six-by-six support posts down to the quarter inch, and he wasn’t looking at utility space.
He was examining the structural load points of the main deck, where the floor joists cantilevered out six feet past the foundation wall.
He took three more paces, checked his smartwatch again, and jotted down another set of numbers.
“A guest room requires a different permit from the county than a utility shed,” I said.
“Well, he’s just getting some rough estimates together so we can discuss it like adults,” Bula said, her voice rising slightly.
She picked up her tea again, but her hands were unsteady, the ceramic rim tapping against her teeth.
“He wants to show you that he can be useful here, Dad, if you just give him a chance.”
