At first, I thought someone had taken a wrong turn.
The sound came from the lower part of the driveway.
Heavy engines.
More than one vehicle.
I was standing near the front windows with a cup of black coffee.
I looked outside.
A large SUV was approaching.
Behind it was a long trailer.
A moving van followed close behind.
I set my coffee down.
The vehicles continued up the gravel.
I recognized the SUV before it reached the front of the house.
Garrett.
I hadn't seen him in eleven years.
For a moment, I couldn't move.
The man driving was older than the son I remembered.
His face had changed.
His hair looked different.
But I knew him.
The SUV stopped near the front of the property.
The trailer settled behind it.
The moving van pulled in after them.
Then Garrett stepped out.
He looked at the lodge.
He looked toward the surrounding land.
Then he turned to the woman climbing out of the passenger side.
Tiffany.
She looked around with wide eyes.
Garrett leaned toward her and said something.
I couldn't hear the words through the glass.
But I could see his expression.
He was smiling.
Not the smile of a son who had finally found his father.
It was the smile of a man who believed he had arrived somewhere he was entitled to be.
I watched him gesture toward the house.
Then I heard his voice when he called out.
"Look at this place. I told you we would find him."
Tiffany smiled.
Garrett added something while looking at the lodge.
"We're going to be living here now."
I stood still.
My coffee was untouched.
Eleven years.
Not a single call.
Not one Christmas greeting.
No birthday message.
And now he was standing on my property with a moving van.
I opened the front door.
The cold mountain air moved into the house.
Garrett looked up.
His face brightened.
"Dad!"
He started walking toward me.
For one second, I saw the little boy who used to run toward me after I came home from work.
Then the memory disappeared.
He opened his arms.
"I've missed you so much."
I didn't move to embrace him.
I kept my hands at my sides.
He stopped a little closer than I wanted.
His smile remained, but I noticed it falter.
Tiffany approached carrying a small pie.
She held it out.
"We brought something for you."
I looked at the pie.
It was an ordinary store-bought apple pie.
I remembered Clara making apple pies from scratch.
Tiffany had never shown much interest in that kind of thing before.
"Thank you," I said.
She smiled.
Her eyes moved past me toward the interior of the lodge.
She was looking at the living room.
Then the windows.
Then the hallway.
I noticed.
Garrett didn't wait long before explaining why they had come.
"We've been thinking about you, Dad."
I looked at him.
"Have you?"
He nodded.
"Of course. It's been a long time."
Eleven years.
He said it as though we had missed a few weekends.
He continued.
"We decided it was time to be together again."
I didn't answer.
He pointed toward the vehicles.
"We sold everything back home. We're moving up here."
I looked at the trailer.
Black garbage bags had been tied around some of the furniture.
Several pieces looked scratched and damaged.
The SUV had a dent near the rear panel.
Its temporary registration tag appeared to have expired.
Tiffany adjusted her handbag.
I noticed her left hand.
The large diamond ring she used to wear wasn't there.
I remembered it because she had once shown it to Clara with considerable pride.
Now her finger was bare.
I looked back at Garrett.
He seemed impatient to get inside.
"Well, Dad? Aren't you going to invite us in?"
I stepped aside.
They entered.
Garrett walked through the main living area as though he were inspecting a property he had already purchased.
He looked at the timber beams.
He examined the windows.
He glanced toward the staircase.
Tiffany followed more slowly.
She placed the pie on the kitchen counter.
Then she looked around again.
"Your house is beautiful."
"Thank you."
Garrett stopped near the large windows.
He looked out toward the eastern peaks.
Then he turned toward me.
"I've heard this place is worth quite a bit."
I picked up my coffee.
He continued.
"Four million eight hundred and fifty thousand, right?"
I stopped before taking a sip.
I looked directly at him.
"That's a very specific number."
He shrugged.
"I've been looking into the area."
I set the cup down.
"You haven't contacted me in eleven years. But somehow you've managed to find out exactly what my property is worth."
His smile tightened.
He looked away briefly.
Then his phone began ringing.
He reached into his pocket.
The screen lit up.
I caught the words before he turned it over.
Financial Recovery Department.
The call appeared to be coming from a coastal city.
Garrett quickly silenced it.
"Just some telemarketer."
I said nothing.
He put the phone away.
Tiffany was standing near the kitchen counter.
She reached into her handbag to retrieve something.
A bright pink sheet of paper slipped from the opening and fell toward the floor.
She grabbed it quickly.
But not before I saw the heading.
FINAL FORECLOSURE NOTICE.
I looked at Garrett.
Then at Tiffany.
Suddenly, their arrival made a lot more sense.
They hadn't driven all this way simply because they missed their father.
They had come because they needed somewhere to go.
And they had apparently decided my property was the answer.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: My Son Had Come Back After Eleven Years, but His First Questions Were About My Money, My Bedrooms, and My Property
My Son Had Not Spoken to Me in Eleven Years, Yet He Arrived at My Mountain Home Acting as Though He Already Owned It
Part 8 of 20
