Chapter 9 - The Eviction and the Settlement
By late July, the summer heat in Little Rock reached an unbearable 102 degrees, matching the simmering reality crashing down on Allison.
Without a guarantor, and with her credit shredded by past bankruptcies and public judgments, no reputable landlord in Pulaski County would rent to her. On July 30th, two large moving pods were dropped on the lawn of the Heights craftsman home.
Aunt Martha called me that evening. Unlike my father, Martha was one of the few who had sought the unvarnished truth after seeing the dossier.
"Dean," Martha said gently over the phone. "I wanted you to know. Allison is moving into a two-bedroom apartment down in Pine Bluff. It was the only place that would accept Dad as a co-signer with his pension."
"And Tony?" I asked.
"Tony has withdrawn from Hendrix for the fall semester," Martha replied with a heavy sigh. "Between the video circulating on campus and the debt, he couldn't face going back. He’s transferring to the community college in White Hall and taking a part-time job stocking shelves at Home Depot."
There was no joy in hearing the news. No triumphant thrill. Just the quiet, sober reality of natural consequences finally catching up to people who had spent decades dodging them.
"How is your father taking it?" I asked.
"He looks twenty years older, Dean," Martha said honestly. "He spends all his time sitting in his recliner, staring at the television. He knows what he did with your mother's insurance money. I know too. He’ll have to answer to the Lord for that. But you... you did the right thing, nephew. You protected your boy."
"Thanks, Aunt Martha. That means everything."
"Dwayne okay?"
"Dwayne is thriving," I smiled. "He’s currently building a spaceship out of cardboard boxes in the living room."
"Good," Martha said softly. "Give that boy a hug from his great-aunt. And Dean? Knock 'em dead in Texas."
Two days later, on August 1st, a certified letter arrived at my home from Hendrix College’s legal affairs office.
Because Tony’s actions at The Joint Theater had violated the student code of conduct regarding public harassment, and because the tuition payments had been formally disputed during Allison’s financial unraveling, the college had performed an internal audit. The registrar determined that Tony’s remaining loans were strictly between the lending institutions and Allison, who had co-signed the parent PLUS agreements. My name was completely and permanently cleared from any institutional records.
Furthermore, Sarah Vance called to confirm that RPM Property Management had formally released me from all liabilities. The keys to the Heights house had been returned, and the owner had inspected the property. Allison’s security deposit had been entirely forfeited to cover trash removal and lawn damage, but my credit remained untouched.
The Highlander sat in our garage, spotless. I had spent an entire Saturday detailing the interior, scrubbing out the stale cigarette smoke, steam-cleaning the carpets, and replacing the air filters until it smelled like brand-new leather again.
On Saturday morning, Gillian and I loaded the Highlander with picnic supplies, Dwayne’s soccer gear, and a cooler of iced lemonade.
"Where are we going, Dad?" Dwayne asked from the backseat, his fresh, uncoffee-stained notebook resting on his knees.
I looked back at him through the rearview mirror, grinning. "We're going to Two Rivers Park. We’re going to fly a kite, eat sandwiches, and celebrate."
"Celebrate what?" Dwayne asked, tilting his head.
"Celebrate having our car back," Gillian said, turning around to smile at him. "And celebrate your Dad heading to Austin in October."
Dwayne’s eyes lit up. "Can I write that down?"
May you like
"Write it in big letters, buddy," I laughed, putting the Highlander in reverse and backing out of our driveway into the warm Arkansas sunshine. "Write down that the Miller family is moving forward."
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