Chapter 3 - THE SCRAMBLE
For three seconds, nobody breathed. The reality of the situation hit them like a physical wall. They weren't guests in a family home anymore; they were intruders on private property, standing in front of a man they had pushed way past his limit.
“Ten minutes,” I repeated, pulling my phone from my pocket and setting a timer. I tapped the screen. The numbers began ticking down from 10:00.
That broke the paralysis.
Panic erupted across the ground floor.
Uncle Mike dropped his fork, splashing maple syrup across his shirt as he scrambled out of his chair. “Tyler! Get upstairs and grab the bags! Hurry!”
“Wait!” Jess yelled, her voice high and frantic. “My clothes are still in the dryer! Kayn, you can't be serious! My silk dress is in there!”
“Nine minutes and forty seconds,” I said, standing near the open sliding door, watching them with cold indifference.
Kids began to cry as the tension in the room boiled over. Second cousins who had spent the morning dragging muddy shoes across my hardwood floors were now sprinting up the stairs, bumping into each other in the narrow hallway. Suitcases slammed against walls. Drawers were yanked open and shoved shut.
Melinda stood frozen by the table, her hands clenching into fists. Her pride was warring desperately with the sudden, terrifying reality of being thrown out into a mountain downpour.
“Eleanor!” Melinda turned on my mother, her voice shrill. “Do something! Talk to your son! You’re his mother, for God’s sake!”
My mother finally stood up. She looked small, stripped of the unearned authority she had worn all weekend. She stepped toward me, her hands outstretched in a defensive, pleading gesture.
“Kayn, please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Think about how this looks. If you throw everyone out in the middle of a storm, the whole family will never forgive us. It will ruin everything.”
“Us?” I let out a sharp, cold laugh. “There is no us, Mom. You sat right there while she called me a mistake. You laughed when Tyler mocked my job. You used my house to make yourself look important, and when they tore me down, you picked up a fork and joined in.”
“I was just trying to keep the peace!” she cried out.
“No,” I said, looking her straight in the eyes. “You were protecting your reputation at my expense. And now you’ve lost both.”
She flinched as if I had struck her. She opened her mouth to argue, but the sound of heavy boots clattering down the wooden stairs cut her off.
Tyler came stumbling down the steps, carrying three oversized duffel bags and a cooler that was leaking melted ice onto the runner rug. “Mom! The rain is coming sideways out there! The driveway is turning into mud!”
“Then you’d better hurry,” I said, checking my phone. “Seven minutes.”
Aunt Rachel was frantically packing leftover bagels into ziplock bags at the counter. “Mike, where are the keys to the SUV? Did you leave them on the dock?”
“I don't know!” Mike yelled back from the guest bedroom, throwing shoes into an open suitcase. “Check the coffee table!”
The house, which had been filled with lazy, arrogant laughter just fifteen minutes ago, had devolved into absolute chaos. People were tripping over electrical cords, arguing over who packed whose charger, and trying to shove wet towels into overflowing tote bags.
Jess ran past me toward the front door, soaking wet from running out to her car to open the trunk. “Kayn, please! Just let us wait until the storm passes! It’s dangerous on the ridge road!”
“You should have thought about the weather before you insulted the person holding the keys,” I replied.
Melinda hadn't moved to pack. She was watching her family scurry around like rats on a sinking ship, her face twisted in pure fury. She walked up to me until she was standing inches away, the reek of expensive perfume mixing with the smell of damp pine coming from the storm outside.
“You think you’re so smart, don't you?” she hissed under her breath so the others couldn't hear. “You think because your grandfather favored you, you’re better than us? You’re still just a pathetic, lonely weirdo sitting in a dark room playing with computers. Without this house, you’re nothing.”
I looked down at her. For years, her sharp tongue had made me feel small. It had made me retreat into my shell, second-guessing every word I spoke at family gatherings. But looking at her now—soaked at the hem of her designer pants, her hair frizzing from the humidity, desperate and spiteful—I felt nothing. No anger. No hurt. Just pity.
“Four minutes, Melinda,” I said quietly. “And if you’re still standing on my rug when the timer hits zero, I’m dumping your bags into the lake myself.”
Her eyes widened in horror. She realized I wasn't bluffing.
With a furious screech, Melinda turned and stormed toward the master bedroom—the room she had demanded upon arrival, forcing me to sleep on the sofa in my own office—and began shoving her clothes into her leather luggage with violent, sloppy movements.
I stepped out onto the covered porch, watching the scene unfold from the outside.
The rain was torrential now. Sheets of gray water swept across the dark lake, churning the surface into whitecaps. The tall Oregon pines swayed heavily in the gale, dropping small branches onto the gravel driveway.
One by one, they began hauling their gear out into the storm.
Tyler dragged two heavy coolers through the gravel, slipping in the mud and ruining his pristine white sneakers. He swore loudly as rain instantly soaked through his hoodie. Jess ran out holding a throw pillow over her head, her makeup running down her cheeks as she tried to get the tailgate of her crossover unlocked.
Aunt Rachel was crying as she loaded her crying grandkids into the back of Uncle Mike’s truck. “This is insane! This is completely insane!”
My mother came out last. She carried a single rolling suitcase and a small tote bag. She stood under the porch overhang, shivering slightly in the cold draft, looking at me with a mixture of heartbreak and lingering disbelief.
“Kayn... please,” she whispered over the sound of thunder. “Don't do this. Come inside. Let’s talk about this like a family.”
“Five seconds,” I said, holding up my phone.
May you like
The timer beeped.
My mother swallowed hard, tears finally spilling over her lashes. She turned, stepped out from under the roof, and walked into the freezing rain toward her car.
