Chapter 16 - The Inevitable Summons
The fallout from Eleanor’s dramatic exit was as swift as it was ugly, but for the first time in our lives, none of us were caught in the blast radius.
On Tuesday afternoon, my attorney, David Ross, called my cell phone while I was reviewing architectural plans for our barn extension.
"Julian," David said, his tone carrying the crisp, unemotional efficiency of a high-dollar litigator. "The leasing agency for the Oak Street condominium filed for immediate summary eviction this morning. Your mother showed up at their corporate offices with a handheld camcorder, claiming religious discrimination and elder abuse."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, sighing. "Did they call the police?"
"Naturally," David replied. "The officers escorted her off the premises. The building management verified that your electronic signature was fraudulent. They have formally dropped all claims against you. However, they are proceeding with criminal charges against Eleanor for third-degree identity theft and check kiting. The bail will likely be set around five thousand dollars tomorrow afternoon."
"Has my father been contacted?" I asked.
"He was," David said. "Arthur was at the courthouse at ten this morning with his own divorce counsel. The final decree of dissolution of marriage was signed by Judge Miller at eleven-fifteen. Arthur is officially a single man. His pension is partitioned, his liability is capped, and your mother’s debts were legally adjudicated as non-marital waste due to willful fraud."
"And Arthur’s reaction to the bail hearing?"
David chuckled softly on the other end of the line—a dry, rustling sound. "Arthur informed the clerk that five thousand dollars was precisely the cost of replacing the transmission in his Ford truck, and he preferred the truck."
When I hung up the phone, I walked out onto the front porch. The autumn air was turning crisp, the leaves of the silver maples burning into deep ambers and blazing golds. Down near the garden fence, Arthur was on his knees, driving cedar stakes into the ground with a heavy wooden mallet, whistling a tuneless melody that he hadn't whistled since I was ten years old.
He looked up as I approached, resting the mallet on his knee. "She get locked up?" he asked simply.
"Tomorrow morning, most likely," I said.
Arthur looked out toward the tree line, watching a pair of red-tailed hawks circle high in the thermal currents. "I carried that woman’s rage for thirty-two years, Julian. I told myself I was doing it to keep a roof over your head and Kendra’s. But the truth is... I was a coward. It was easier to hand her my paycheck and let her scream than it was to face the fire."
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"You’re not in the fire anymore, Dad," I said, setting a hand on his shoulder.
"No," he said, looking at the stake he had just driven deep and straight into the rich black earth. "I’m building a fence. It’s honest work."
