Chapter 5 - The Divide
Word of the thirty-day eviction notice spread through the extended Caldwell family like wildfire over the next forty-eight hours.
By Wednesday morning, my phone was receiving messages from aunts, uncles, and distant cousins I hadn't spoken to since my wedding day.
Aunt Brenda: Tessa, I am appalled to hear how you are treating Derek’s parents. Family supports family in tough times. To throw elderly people out before the holidays is heartless.
Cousin Mark: Unbelievable. Derek worked so hard for you. You need to rethink this legal action immediately.
I didn't engage in lengthy text arguments. I simply created a standardized, polite template and copied it to every single person who messaged me:
Dear [Name], thank you for your concern regarding Gordon and Marianne’s housing situation. Since you feel so strongly that family should support family in times of need, I am thrilled to hear you are offering your guest room to them! Please let me know what date they can move into your home so I can help them pack. Best, Tessa.
Not a single relative replied. Two of them blocked my number within ten minutes.
Meanwhile, inside the craftsman house, a psychological civil war broke out between the occupants.
Gordon, realizing the absolute justice of my legal action, refused to let Marianne use his medical condition as a weapon. On Thursday evening, Paige texted me a secret update from the house.
Paige: Tessa, Dad and Mom had a massive fight in their room. Dad told Mom that her mouth destroyed this family. He said he’s packing his own boxes and that if she doesn't find an apartment, he’s going to apply for senior subsidized housing in Arvada by himself.
Paige: Also... I’m so sorry, Tessa. I should have stood up for you more. I was just scared of Mom’s screaming. I’m packing my things this weekend. I signed a lease on a room with two roommates in Capitol Hill. I move in on December 1st.
I sat in my hotel room and read Paige’s message twice. I replied: Thank you, Paige. I appreciate you saying that. Good luck with your new apartment.
While Paige was packing and Gordon was preparing to separate his life from his wife’s toxicity, Marianne attempted one final, desperate play.
She called Samantha Reed.
Marianne believed that if she could orchestrate a sudden, public reunion between Derek and his wealthy ex-girlfriend, Derek would realize what he was 'missing' and instantly abandon me and my house.
On Friday evening, while Derek was staying at a local business hotel trying to figure out his next move, Marianne invited Samantha to meet her for tea at an upscale hotel lounge in Cherry Creek.
What Marianne didn't know was that Samantha Reed was no longer the impressionable twenty-two-year-old girl who had dated Derek in college. Samantha was now thirty-two, ran a successful digital marketing agency in San Francisco, and happened to be back in Denver visiting her own family.
When Marianne sat down across from Samantha at the marble table, Marianne immediately launched into a dramatic, tear-filled performance. She painted me as an unhinged, cruel woman who had stripped the kitchen bare, served illegal eviction papers, and forced poor Derek to sleep in hotels.
“He needs you, Samantha,” Marianne wept softly, dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “He made such a terrible mistake marrying that heartless woman. If you just reached out to him... if you just met him for drinks tonight, he would see what a real woman looks like.”
Samantha set her tea cup down on the saucer with a slow, deliberate clink. She looked at Marianne with a mix of disbelief and quiet disgust.
“Mrs. Caldwell,” Samantha said, her voice cool and composed, “did Tessa actually sell the appliances because you threw her cooking into the trash can?”
Marianne blinked, thrown off script. “Well... it was unpalatable! I was merely expressing my—”
“You threw away food that a woman cooked for you after working an eleven-hour shift in your free house?” Samantha interrupted, leaning forward.
“I... I was comparing her to you!” Marianne defended defensively. “I told her how wonderfully you used to treat us!”
Samantha let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Mrs. Caldwell, when I dated Derek ten years ago, you treated me like an ornament. The only reason you liked me was because my father owned a country club membership. You are a bitter, entitled woman who has spent her whole life using people.”
Marianne gasped, her face flushing crimson. “Samantha!”
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“Don't call me,” Samantha said, standing up and pulling her leather coat over her shoulders. “And if you ever use my name to harass Derek’s wife again, I will have my family’s legal counsel send you a cease-and-desist letter that will make that thirty-day eviction notice look like a birthday card.”
Samantha walked out of the lounge, leaving Marianne sitting alone at the marble table with a cold pot of tea and an unpaid bill.
