Chapter 7 - The Legal Reckoning
January 26th was the final day of the thirty-day eviction notice.
Accompanied by Mr. Vance, two movers, and a local deputy, I walked up the driveway of my property. The snow from Christmas night had melted, replaced by a fresh, clean blanket of winter sun.
Dad met us at the door. He looked ten years older. His posture was slumped, his eyes sunken, and the loud, booming authority he used to command had vanished completely. Mom stood behind him, clutching a worn handbag, her eyes red from crying.
“Daniel...” Dad began, his voice raspy. “Can we talk? Just father and son?”
“We’re past talking, Dad,” I said neutrally. “The thirty days are up. Do you have your personal belongings packed?”
“Where are we supposed to go?” Mom wailed, stepping forward. “We have no savings! Your brother and sister won’t answer our calls!”
“You had three years of rent-free living to build a savings account,” I reminded her gently, though firmly. “What you did with that time and money was your choice. Taking my kindness and turning it into contempt was also your choice.”
The deputy stepped forward. “Mr. Pendelton, please step clear of the threshold so the owner can take possession of his property.”
May you like
With trembling hands, my father reached into his pocket and pulled out the brass house key—the very key he had demanded I leave on the mat four weeks ago. He held it out to me.
I didn't take it. I simply motioned to the deputy. “You can leave it on the mat. Broke men don’t need keys, but owners change the locks anyway.”
