Chapter 2: The Party Continues
For two weeks, I watched them on social media.
Bella posted photos of the sunset from the balcony. #Blessed #DreamHome #HardWorkPaysOff.
Richard posted pictures of his new home office. Empire Building.
They didn’t call me. Not once. Not to apologize. Not to ask if my hip was okay.
I went to the doctor. Severe bruising, but no fracture. I was lucky.
On the fourteenth day, I was sitting in my garden, pruning my roses. My phone buzzed.
It was Richard.
I didn’t answer.
It rang again. Then a text.
MOM. PICK UP. EMERGENCY.
I sipped my tea. I waited.
Then, Bella called.
I let it go to voicemail.
Finally, I answered the third call from Richard.
“Hello?” I said calmly.
“Mom!” Richard was hyperventilating. “Mom, you have to help us. Something insane is happening.”
“Calm down, Richard. What is it?”
“There are men here,” he shouted. “Sheriffs! And a lawyer! They say… they say the house is being foreclosed on! Today!”
“Oh my,” I said. “Did you miss a payment?”
“No! I paid the mortgage last week! But they said the lender called the note! They said Chimera Capital is dissolving the loan agreement and demanding the full five million dollars immediately! I don’t have five million dollars liquid!”
“That sounds like a terrible predicament,” I said.
“Mom, stop being so calm! They’re changing the locks! They’re putting our stuff on the lawn! You have money, right? Dad left you money. Can you wire me the balance? I’ll pay you back!”
“I can’t do that, Richard,” I said.
“Why not?!”
“Because,” I said, “I don’t lend money to people who push me off furniture.”
Silence. Absolute, terrifying silence on the other end of the line.
“What?” Richard whispered.
“Put Bella on the phone,” I ordered.
Chapter 3: The Realization
I heard rustling. Then Bella’s voice. She sounded shrill, panicked, and angry.
“Margaret? Richard says you won’t help. Look, I’m sorry about the party, okay? I was stressed. But this is our home! You can’t let us be homeless over a stupid sofa!”
“It wasn’t about the sofa, Bella,” I said. “It was about the disrespect. And the ‘courtesy invite’.”
“Fine! I apologize! Are you happy? Now wire the money!”
“I’m afraid you misunderstand the situation,” I said. “I’m not just refusing to bail you out. I am the one evicting you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look at the eviction notice, Bella,” I said. “Look at the signature line for the Managing Partner of Chimera Capital.”
I heard paper rustling.
“It… it’s signed by an M. Vance,” Bella stammered.
“Margaret Vance,” I clarified. “My maiden name. The name I use for business.”
“You…” Bella choked. “You own the lending company?”
“I own the lending company,” I confirmed. “I own the shell company that bought the land. And effectively, I own the house you are currently standing in.”
“No…” Richard’s voice came back on the line. “Mom… you’re Chimera? You funded us?”
“I did,” I said. “I wanted you to have a nice life, Richard. I wanted to support you from the shadows because I knew your ego couldn’t handle the truth—that you aren’t a self-made man. You’re a mama’s boy living on an allowance.”
“How could you do this?” Bella screamed. “We’re family!”
“Family doesn’t treat family like trash,” I snapped. “You told me not to stay long, Bella. You told me not to make things awkward. Well, I’m taking your advice. I’m removing myself from your life. And I’m taking my house with me.”
“Please,” Richard begged. “Mom, we have nowhere to go. All our money is tied up in the renovations!”
“I suggest you sell the sofa,” I said. “I hear it’s very expensive. It might cover a few nights at a Motel 6.”
Chapter 4: The Eviction
I drove over an hour later. I wanted to see it. Call it petty, but I needed closure.
The scene was chaotic. The Sheriff’s deputies were standing by the door. Movers—hired by me—were carrying the sleek, modern furniture out onto the driveway.
The white Cloud sofa sat on the asphalt. A bird had already dropped a present on the pristine white cushion. Poetic justice.
Richard was sitting on the curb, his head in his hands. Bella was screaming at a deputy, waving her phone, threatening to sue everyone.
When my Subaru pulled up, they both froze.
I got out. I leaned on my cane—my hip was still sore.
Bella ran toward me. “You witch! You evil old witch! How can you do this to your son?”
“Stop,” I said, holding up a hand.
Two security guards—my private security—stepped between us.
“You are trespassing,” I told her. “This is private property.”
“I live here!”
“Not anymore,” Mr. Henderson said, stepping out from the house. He handed me a set of keys. “The locks have been changed, Madam Chairwoman. Possession has been reverted.”
I took the keys. I looked at Richard.
He stood up and walked over. He looked like a child again. “Mom… I’m sorry. I should have helped you up.”
“Yes,” I said. “You should have. But you didn’t. You were afraid of your wife. You valued her aesthetic over my dignity.”
“I can change,” he pleaded. “Let us stay. We’ll be better.”
I looked at the house. It was beautiful. Cold, glass, and soulless.
“No,” I said. “You need to learn, Richard. You need to learn what it means to actually build something. To actually earn it.”
I turned to Mr. Henderson.
“George, what is the current market value of this property?”
“Five point two million,” George replied.
“Sell it,” I said.
Bella gasped. “Sell it?”
“Sell it,” I repeated. “And donate the proceeds to the Senior Dignity Fund. It’s a charity that helps elderly people who have been abused or neglected by their families.”
I looked straight at Bella.
“I think it’s a fitting legacy for this house, don’t you?”
Chapter 5: The Aftermath
They left. They had no choice.
They loaded what they could into Richard’s Range Rover (which I also stopped making payments on the next day; it was repossessed a week later).
They moved into a small apartment in the valley. Bella left Richard two months later. Apparently, without the mansion and the “trust fund lifestyle,” he wasn’t as attractive.
Richard got a job. A real job. He works in sales at a car dealership. He calls me once a week. We’re working on it. He’s humbler now. He asks about my hip.
As for me?
I went back to my modest house. I sat on my comfortable, floral-patterned sofa that cost $400 at an outlet store.
I knitted. I drank tea.
And sometimes, when I felt a twinge of pain in my hip, I checked the bank account of the charity I funded.
Five million dollars.
It was helping thousands of seniors get legal aid, housing, and care.
I thought about what I told Bella. Nothing stays yours forever.
Except for your character. That stays with you until the end. And mine was just fine.
