Chapter 7 - THE LOCKS
I drove home so fast I almost missed my exit.
Amy opened the door before I reached the porch.
“What happened?”
“Pack a bag.”
Her face changed.
“Why?”
“My mom’s out.”
Amy stepped backward.
“What?”
“She made bail.”
“She can’t come here.”
“She won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m changing every lock right now.”
I called a locksmith.
Then I called my bank.
Then the mortgage company.
Then every credit bureau I could reach.
By noon, my credit was frozen, fraud alerts were placed on my accounts, and two locksmiths were replacing every exterior lock.
I also added cameras.
Front porch.
Driveway.
Backyard.
Side gate.
Garage.
Amy watched silently.
Finally she said, “You believe me now.”
That hurt.
I turned.
“I should have believed you before.”
She looked away.
“I don’t need an apology because you got scared.”
“That’s not why I’m apologizing.”
I moved closer.
“I’m apologizing because I made you feel like you had to prove something before I would stand beside you.”
Her eyes filled.
“I thought if I pushed too hard, you’d think I hated your mother.”
“I don’t care if you hate her.”
“I didn’t.”
“Do you now?”
Amy gave a tired laugh.
“I’m working on it.”
For the first time in two days, I almost smiled.
Then the doorbell rang.
The locksmith looked toward me.
I checked the new camera feed on my phone.
Teresa.
Standing on my porch.
Betsy beside her.
My mother knocked again.
“Connor!”
Amy went pale.
I walked toward the door.
She grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t open it.”
“I’m not.”
Teresa pounded harder.
“I know you’re in there!”
I spoke through the camera.
“You need to leave.”
Her face jerked toward the lens.
“Oh, grow up.”
“You are not allowed inside.”
“This is my son’s house.”
“My house.”
“I am your mother.”
“Leave.”
Betsy stepped forward.
“Connor, this has gotten completely out of control.”
I laughed.
“My deed was in Mason’s jacket.”
“He was protecting it.”
“From who?”
Neither answered.
Then Teresa leaned toward the camera.
“You’re making a terrible mistake.”
“No. I made my mistake when I trusted you.”
Her face changed.
“After everything I sacrificed for you?”
Amy whispered behind me, “Here we go.”
Teresa continued.
“I fed you. I clothed you. I worked two jobs.”
“And that bought you my house?”
“You owe me.”
I stared at the screen.
There it was.
Not love.
Not family.
Debt.
In her mind, I had never become a grown man.
I had become an investment.
“You have thirty seconds to leave before I call the police.”
Betsy pulled at her arm.
“Come on.”
Teresa didn’t move.
Instead, she reached into her purse.
Amy grabbed my shoulder.
My mother pulled out an envelope and held it toward the camera.
“You want to play legal games?”
She smiled.
“Fine.”
She dropped the envelope onto my porch.
Then she turned and walked away.
I waited until her car disappeared.
Only then did I open the door.
Inside the envelope was a photocopy of a document.
A petition.
May you like
My mother was suing me.
And according to the first page, she claimed half my house belonged to her.
