I woke before six.
For a few seconds, I forgot what day it was.
Then I saw the calendar.
September twenty-sixth.
I sat up.
The house was quiet.
I made coffee.
I drank half of it while standing beside the kitchen window.
Then I went upstairs and got dressed.
I chose a simple blue blouse and dark trousers.
Nothing formal.
Nothing expensive.
I wasn't attending a wedding.
I wasn't hosting a party.
I was going to be in my own home.
I placed my handbag beside the front door.
Inside were the cream-colored envelope, the document Richard had reviewed, Nile's handwritten note, and the property records.
I checked the new keys.
Then I drove to the beach house.
The morning air was cool.
The sky was clear.
When I arrived, the property looked exactly as I wanted it to.
The lawn was trimmed.
The porch was clean.
The blue front door stood out against the gray shingles.
I parked and walked inside.
I checked every room.
The living room was tidy.
The kitchen counters were clear.
The dining table had been wiped.
Nile's photograph was still on the mantel.
I stood in front of it.
For a moment, I considered taking it down and placing it somewhere safe.
But I decided against it.
It belonged there.
I went to the kitchen and poured coffee into a travel mug.
Then I sat on the porch.
The suitcases and boxes were still beneath the covered section near the garage.
I had moved them there the previous afternoon.
I wanted them visible.
I wanted everyone to understand that their belongings were safe.
But the house was not theirs.
At around nine, Margaret called.
"Are you there?"
"Yes."
"How are you feeling?"
I looked toward the driveway.
"All right."
She reminded me that she was nearby if I needed anything.
I thanked her.
Then I put my phone away.
A little after ten, a delivery truck drove past.
I watched it disappear down the road.
The first guests weren't expected until later.
I spent the next hour arranging the porch chairs.
Laurelai had apparently wanted them facing the front door.
I decided to place them in a loose circle.
People could sit and talk if they wanted.
But there would be no special table for handing over keys.
I wasn't creating a ceremony around something that wasn't happening.
At noon, my phone rang.
It was Cullen.
I answered.
"Hello."
"Mom, we're on our way."
I looked at the clock.
"All right."
"Everything ready?"
I took a breath.
"Your belongings are here."
He paused.
"Good."
Then he said:
"Please don't make this difficult when we arrive."
I looked at the ocean.
"I won't."
He sounded relieved.
"We'll see you soon."
The call ended.
I placed the phone on the table.
Then I took out the cream-colored envelope.
I checked the flap.
The tape was still there.
I placed it back inside my handbag.
I wanted the document ready if anyone questioned my ownership.
But I didn't want to wave it around.
I hoped Cullen would listen.
I hoped he would understand that this was not a battle over money.
It was a question of honesty.
At one o'clock, the first car arrived.
A couple stepped out.
They were dressed nicely.
The woman carried a small gift bag.
She looked toward the house.
Then she noticed me.
"Good afternoon."
I smiled politely.
"Good afternoon."
She hesitated.
"Are you Eleanor?"
"Yes."
"I'm Susan. We were invited to the welcome-home celebration."
I nodded.
"You're welcome to come in."
She looked surprised.
Then she glanced toward the moving boxes.
Her expression became uncertain.
I understood.
She had expected to see a different scene.
Perhaps a decorated entrance.
Perhaps a welcome sign.
Perhaps a proud mother waiting to give the newlyweds their keys.
Instead, she saw me sitting on my porch beside a coffee mug.
She thanked me and walked toward the driveway.
A few minutes later, another vehicle arrived.
Then another.
Guests began gathering near the front lawn.
Some introduced themselves.
Others simply nodded.
I greeted everyone politely.
I didn't explain anything unless someone asked.
A woman approached me.
"Isn't this an exciting day?"
I looked at her.
"That depends on what you were told."
She became quiet.
Then she smiled awkwardly.
I didn't press her.
At around two, Laurelai arrived.
She stepped out of a large vehicle wearing an elegant dress.
Her hair was perfectly styled.
She carried a small folder.
When she saw me, she smiled.
It wasn't a warm smile.
"Eleanor."
"Laurelai."
She looked toward the porch.
Then toward the lawn.
"Where is the welcome table?"
I took a sip of coffee.
"I didn't arrange one."
Her smile disappeared.
"What do you mean?"
"I haven't arranged a welcome table."
She lowered her voice.
"We discussed this."
"No, you discussed it."
She looked around.
Several guests were already nearby.
Then she stepped closer.
"Please don't embarrass everyone."
I looked directly at her.
"I have no intention of embarrassing anyone."
She glanced toward the boxes.
"Why are those still there?"
"Because they belong to Cullen and Blythe."
"Then why haven't they been brought inside?"
"Because I haven't given anyone permission to move into the house."
Her face tightened.
She looked around again.
I could tell she didn't want the guests to hear us.
But the conversation had already begun.
She leaned closer.
"You're going to have to stop this."
I placed my coffee on the table.
"No, Laurelai. I think it's time everyone understood what is happening."
She stared at me.
Then she turned away.
She began directing guests toward the chairs.
I watched her arrange them.
She placed several in front of the porch.
Then she moved two more closer to the entrance.
It was exactly what Margaret had described.
They were facing my front door.
I looked at the chairs.
Then at the invitation inside my handbag.
Thirty-four people had been invited.
I counted the cars.
There were already several in the driveway.
Some guests stood near the lawn.
Others were speaking quietly beside the porch.
I didn't know how many would arrive.
I only knew that I would not be leaving.
Around three, Miles arrived.
He looked at me and gave a small nod.
I nodded back.
He walked over.
"Good afternoon, Eleanor."
"Good afternoon."
He looked toward Laurelai.
Then back at me.
"I hope we can keep things calm."
"I hope so too."
He didn't say anything else.
He walked toward the chairs.
I watched him speak quietly with his wife.
Laurelai gestured toward the house.
Miles looked uncomfortable.
Then he looked at the moving boxes.
I wondered whether he was beginning to understand how different the scene was from what he had expected.
I checked my phone.
There was a message from Margaret.
"How is everything?"
I replied:
"They're arriving."
Then I put the phone away.
I looked toward the driveway.
The afternoon was moving slowly.
A few guests had begun asking questions.
One woman asked whether the newlyweds had arrived.
Another asked whether the house had been decorated.
I answered politely.
"They're on their way."
I didn't say anything more.
Then I saw a black car approaching.
It turned into the driveway.
I recognized the vehicle.
My heart began beating faster.
The car stopped near the lawn.
The passenger door opened.
Then Cullen stepped out.
He looked toward the porch.
Then toward the suitcases.
His face changed immediately.
He walked toward me.
"Mom. What's going on?"
I remained seated.
He looked at the boxes again.
Then he turned toward the front door.
I could see the anger building in his face.
He stepped closer.
"Why are our things still outside?"
I looked at him.
Then I glanced toward Blythe, who was getting out of the car.
She looked confused.
Laurelai hurried forward.
I slowly picked up my coffee.
The guests had begun turning toward us.
And I knew the conversation we had avoided for weeks was finally about to happen in front of everyone.
Click here to continue reading: PART 17: The Envelope I Held Up in Front of Twenty-Nine Witnesses Contained the One Thing My Son Had Never Bothered to Read
My Only Son Called to Announce His Wedding, but One Casual Sentence Made Me Realize I Was No Longer Welcome in His Life
Part 16 of 20
