Chapter 20 - A House Divided
The Vance family home—the four-bedroom colonial where Melissa and I had spent our childhood—stood completely silent under the late spring sun.
Arthur Vance stood in the driveway, loading the last of his cardboard boxes into the back of my SUV. He looked healthier than he had in years. The purplish bruise on his collarbone had faded into a faint yellowish mark, his eyes were clear, and the stoop in his shoulders had vanished.
He had filed for divorce two weeks ago, ending a forty-two-year marriage to Evelyn Vance.
"That’s the last of the books, Nora," Dad said, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Everything else in that house can rot for all I care."
I walked over and handed him a bottle of cold water. "You’re sure you want to sell the house, Dad? You’re entitled to half the equity."
"I don't want a single penny that touched that woman’s hands," Dad replied firmly, taking a swig of water. "The court ordered the property sold to pay off Evelyn’s legal fees and restitution penalties anyway. Let the auctioneers have it. I have my pension, I have my dignity, and I have my granddaughter. That’s all a man needs at my age."
The front door of the house creaked open.
Evelyn stepped onto the porch. She was out on an unsecured bond, awaiting her formal trial date in July. The woman who had ruled our family with an iron fist of guilt and manipulation looked like a ghost haunting her own front yard. Her hair was unwashed, her clothes hung loose on her shrinking frame, and the arrogant, superior tilt of her chin had been crushed into a permanent grimace of bitter misery.
She walked slowly down the porch steps, stopping at the edge of the lawn where the cardboard boxes were stacked.
"Arthur," Evelyn said, her voice shaking with desperate, pathetic anger. "You can't just leave me here alone. The neighbors are whispering. The bank is foreclosing on the equity line. Who is going to pay the heating bill next month?"
Dad didn't even look up from securing the tailgate of my SUV. "You have your lawyers to talk to, Evelyn. Call them. You certainly talked to them enough when you were forging my name on family accounts."
"I did it for Melissa!" Evelyn screamed, her voice cracking in the quiet afternoon air. "I did it because she needed me! Nora was always self-sufficient! Nora never needed my help! Melissa was weak, Arthur! She was fragile! A mother helps the child who needs her most!"
Dad stopped. He slowly turned around, facing his wife of forty-two years. The look on his face wasn't anger; it was an absolute, devastating disgust.
"Melissa wasn't fragile, Evelyn," Dad said, his voice echoing across the quiet lawn. "Melissa was selfish. And you weren't helping her. You were using her to feel important, because you couldn't control Nora after David married her. You created a monster, Evelyn. And now that monster has turned around and signed a sworn plea deal with the district attorney that puts all the blame on you."
Evelyn staggered back a step, clutching her chest. "What? What did you say?"
"Melissa took a plea deal this morning," I chimed in, stepping beside my father. "Three years of probation, full restitution, and supervised community service in exchange for testifying as the chief witness against you at your trial. She handed over every text message, Mother. She told the prosecutor that you forced her to sign those documents. She threw you under the bus to save herself from going to prison."
Evelyn’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, like a fish gasping for air on dry land. The golden child she had protected, favored, and stolen for had discarded her like a piece of worthless trash the second the consequences arrived.
"No..." Evelyn whispered, tears finally pooling in her cold, bitter eyes. "No, Melissa wouldn't... she loves me. I gave her everything..."
"You gave her a criminal record, Evelyn," Dad said quietly. He turned his back on her, opened the passenger door of my car, and climbed inside. "Goodbye, Evelyn. Enjoy your empty house."
May you like
I walked around to the driver's seat, started the engine, and backed out of the driveway. In the rearview mirror, Evelyn Vance stood alone on the dead grass of her front lawn, clutching her sweater around her trembling shoulders, shrinking into the distance until she disappeared entirely.
***
