Chapter 4 - The Phone Call
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I simply smiled at her.
It was not a warm smile. It was the smile of a woman who had survived far worse things than a spoiled daughter-in-law in a linen dress.
I slipped my hand into my leather purse.
Megan narrowed her eyes, stepping forward. “What are you doing? Eleanor, don't make a scene in front of my guests. You can stay in town at a hotel, we'll pay for it.”
I smiled at her again, then turned my gaze toward my son, whose face had gone entirely pale.
And I placed the call I should have made the instant she first muttered the word when.
I didn't dial my son. I didn't dial a family member to complain. I dialed the local precinct of the coastal police department, and then I dialed Big Jim's Towing, a local company owned by a man whose wedding suit I had tailored thirty years ago.
“Yes, Jim? It’s Eleanor,” I said clearly, making sure my voice carried over the murmurs of the uncomfortable crowd. “I have about six unauthorized vehicles parked on my lawn and blocking my driveway. Yes, the beach house. I need them removed immediately. Tow them all to the city lot.”
Megan gasped, her wine splashing over the rim of her glass onto her pristine dress. “You wouldn’t dare!”
I didn't answer her. I dialed the second number.
“Hello, dispatch? This is Eleanor Vance at 42 Oceanview Drive. I am the sole legal owner of this property. I have approximately thirty trespassers currently inside my home refusing to leave, and they are destroying my property. Please send officers to clear the premises.”
I ended the call and slipped the phone back into my purse.
The silence in the room was deafening. The man holding Henry's mug slowly set it down on the table and began inching toward the door.
"Have you lost your mind?" Megan shrieked, all her composed high-society elegance evaporating in an instant. "These are my colleagues! These are Robert's investors! You are humiliating us!"
"I am not humiliating you," I said, stepping fully into the room and standing tall. "I am cleaning my house."
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Robert finally stepped forward, his hands raised in surrender. "Mom, please, call them back. We can just pack up and go. Don't do this."
"It is already done, Robert," I told him, looking at the son I barely recognized. "You should start gathering your things. The tow trucks are about five minutes away."
