Chapter 16 - Putting the Sign in the Yard
April first arrived with clear, crisp air and the first tentative green shoots pushing through the garden beds along Oak Ridge Lane.
At 10:00 AM, a white pickup truck bearing the logo of *Lakeside Premier Real Estate* pulled up to the curb in front of 114 Oak Ridge.
The house was empty.
My parents had moved out three days earlier, packing what little furniture they hadn't sold into a small U-Haul and driving across town to a modest, two-bedroom garden apartment near the industrial park—an apartment my father was paying for with his modest Social Security check and a part-time job he had taken as a night security guard at a storage facility.
My mother hadn't spoken to me since the settlement was signed. Jenna told me she spent her days posting religious quotes on Facebook and complaining to anyone who would listen about the price of eggs.
Rachel had moved to Chicago, sleeping on an acquaintance’s futon, working twenty hours a week as a receptionist at a boutique yoga studio, finally learning what it felt like to pay for her own cell phone bill.
I stood on the sidewalk with Evelyn, holding a warm cup of coffee, watching the real estate agent hammer the tall white wooden post into the front lawn.
*FOR SALE: Exceptional 4-Bedroom Colonial. Presented by Lakeside Premier.*
"The neighborhood market is insane right now," Evelyn said, checking her tablet. "Low inventory, high demand. Because you had the roof inspected and the exterior painted last summer, we’re listing at four hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars."
I ran the numbers in my head.
The remaining balance on the primary lien held by my LLC was two hundred and eighty-two thousand.
After broker commissions, closing fees, and settling the minor utility balances, the net proceeds to my LLC would be nearly one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
One hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
More than triple the amount I had spent saving them eighteen months ago.
"How does it feel?" Evelyn asked, bumping her shoulder against mine.
I looked at the house. The large bay window where my mother used to hang her elaborate Christmas wreaths was bare, reflecting the bright spring sky. The porch where I had stood in the freezing snow, watching my daughter's heart break, was just a porch now. It didn't hold any ghosts. It didn't hold any power over me.
"It feels like closing an account," I said. "A very expensive, very educational account."
"Come on," Evelyn said, linking her arm through mine. "I'm buying you lunch. And you're ordering the most expensive lobster roll on the menu."
May you like
I smiled, took one last look at the white sign standing tall in the green grass, and turned my back on Oak Ridge Lane for good.
***
