Chapter 3 - The Toll of Leaving
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mom called out, her voice a shrill mix of panic and indignation as she realized her control was slipping away for good. “Your dinner is on the table! We haven't even had turkey!”
I paused in the doorway, my boots clicking sharply against the hardwood of the foyer. I turned my head just enough to catch her reflection in the gilded hallway mirror.
“Enjoy your Thanksgiving,” I said evenly. “Because come Monday morning, the bank is going to start foreclosure proceedings on a default notice I filed yesterday.”
The entire dining room erupted.
Heather screamed, lunging halfway across the table, while Brad cursed loudly, scrambling to his feet. Mom clutched her chest, letting out a theatrical gasp that would have won an award in community theater if the terror in her eyes hadn't been entirely real.
I didn't look back. I pushed open the front door and stepped out into the crisp, biting autumn air of the driveway.
The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the suburban sky in bruised shades of purple and orange. My navy-issued sedan was parked under the sprawling oak tree, its hood dusted with fallen leaves. As I walked toward it, the front door flew open behind me.
“Lauren! Wait!”
It was Dad. He hurried down the porch steps, his slippers crunching on the gravel drive, wearing his old flannel shirt with no jacket against the evening chill. He looked frail, smaller than I remembered, his breath pluming white in the cold air.
I stopped, resting my hand on the roof of my car, and waited for him to catch up.
“Lauri,” he panted softly, resting a hand on his knee as he tried to steady his breathing. “Is... is it true? About the foreclosure?”
“The bank filed the notice three days ago, Dad,” I said, keeping my voice gentle despite the armor I had worn all evening. “The loan Heather took out in your name was default-rated six months ago. They were about to slap a lien on the title. If I hadn’t stepped in to purchase the delinquent note from the lender yesterday, the sheriff would have put a notice on your front door by Friday.”
Dad stared at me, his mouth slightly open. “You... you bought the note?”
“I’m the primary lienholder now,” I confirmed. “Which means technically, this house belongs to Horizon Coastal Holdings LLC—which is mine. You’re not going to lose your home, Dad. But Heather and Brad’s names are coming off the deed, effective immediately.”
He looked down at his boots, shaking his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Lauri. I didn't know. Your mother... she handles the mail, the bills, all of it. After my heart surgery, I couldn't focus on the paperwork. I trusted them.”
“I know you did, Dad,” I sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shivering shoulder. “That’s why I came back. Not for Mom. Not for Heather. For you.”
He looked up, tears shining in his eyes. “Are you leaving again?”
“My leave ends in four days,” I replied honestly. “I have to report back to Norfolk for fleet exercises. But... I set up an office in town with my corporate attorney. We’re going to untangle this entire mess, audit every account Mom and Heather touched, and put the property strictly in your name.”
May you like
Dad reached out, his weathered hand wrapping around my uniform sleeve, touching the gold petty officer stripes with trembling fingers. “You’re a good sailor, Lauri. Better than I ever deserved.”
“I learned how to weather a storm from you, Dad,” I smiled softly. “Now go inside, put on a heavy coat, and tell Heather and Brad to start packing their bags. They have twenty-four hours to clear out their stuff before the locks get changed.”
