Chapter 8 - The Eviction
The police arrested Gavin without a struggle. He sat in the back of the cruiser, his head bowed, looking utterly defeated.
When the officers asked if I wanted to press charges for the threat in the shed, I declined. I didn't need to. The detective who arrived an hour later was from the financial crimes division.
Alyssa handed him the trust documents and the forged mortgage paperwork.
“He forged her signature to secure an eighty-five-thousand-dollar loan against a property held in an irrevocable trust,” Alyssa explained to the detective with the cold, precise efficiency of a woman who had just reclaimed her life. “He also drained three hundred thousand dollars from our joint marital accounts to fund a mistress.”
The detective took notes, his expression grim. “That’s wire fraud, forgery, and grand larceny. He’s looking at significant federal time, ma’am.”
As the cruiser pulled away, taking my son to a holding cell, I stood on the front lawn. The sun was fully up now, casting a warm golden light over the oak tree Walter and I had planted.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Alyssa.
“I need to pack my things,” she said quietly. “I’ll call a hotel. I can figure out an apartment in a few days.”
I turned to look at her. She looked exhausted, her pristine clothes wrinkled, the heavy reality of single motherhood looming over her.
“Where are you going to go, Alyssa?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t have anything left. But I can’t stay here. Not after how I treated you. I let him push you into that little back room. I let him take over your house. I am so sorry, Eleanor.”
I looked at the house. My house.
“The trust says the property goes to the firstborn grandchild,” I said slowly.
Alyssa nodded. “I’ll make sure the baby knows what Walter did for them.”
“A baby needs a home, Alyssa.”
She looked up at me, confused.
“The master bedroom is empty,” I said, pointing toward the house. “And that abstract art in the living room gives me a headache. I think we need to put the family photos back up.”
Alyssa stared at me, her lip trembling. “You... you want me to stay?”
“You are carrying my grandchild,” I said, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around her. “And neither of us should be alone in that big house. We are family, Alyssa. Gavin broke this family, but we are going to put it back together.”
Alyssa broke down, sobbing into my shoulder, holding onto me like a lifeline.
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For the first time in five years, I didn't feel like a guest in my own home. I felt like the matriarch Walter had always known I was.
“Come on,” I said, wiping her tears. “Let’s go get my green armchair out of the shed. It belongs in the living room.”
