Chapter 6 - The Ultimatum
On Wednesday evening, the doorbell of my downtown apartment rang softly.
It was 7:00 p.m. I was sitting at my kitchen island reviewing a quarterly risk assessment report for a major tech client when the buzzer chimed again—this time accompanied by a frantic, heavy pounding against the heavy wood of my apartment door.
I walked down the private hallway, checked the digital peephole, and saw my father standing outside.
He looked ten years older than he had on Saturday. His hair was uncombed, his grey fleece jacket was unzipped and stained, and his shoulders were permanently rounded, as if he were carrying an invisible mountain on his back. Beside him stood Tyler, wearing a sullen, angry scowl, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
I unlocked the deadbolt, pulled the door open six inches, and kept the security chain firmly latched in place.
Dad stared at me through the narrow gap, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate.
"Nora..." Dad breathed, his voice cracking pathetically. "Please... just let us in for five minutes. We have nowhere to go. The bank locked the house an hour ago. We're staying in a cheap motel off the highway."
I looked at him through the metal chain, feeling neither pity nor malice. Just a profound, final closure.
"You're not coming in, Dad," I said quietly.
Tyler shoved past my father, leaning his face close to the gap in the door, his eyes blazing with the same spoiled rage that had swung the tire iron into my windshield four days ago.
"Open this damn door, Nora!" Tyler snarled, his voice rising in pitch. "You think you're so smart, don't you?! You ruined our lives over a stupid piece of glass! You owe us! You're our sister!"
"I'm not your sister, Tyler," I said, meeting his angry glare with absolute calm. "Not legally, not financially, and certainly not emotionally. You broke my property, laughed while my mother mocked me, and expected me to pay the bill for your tantrum. You picked the wrong person to rob."
"We're your family!" Dad pleaded, pressing his palms against the wooden door frame. "Family forgives each other! Family helps each other start over!"
"No, Dad," I said softly. "Family respects each other. You never respected me. You only respected what I could pay for."
I reached out, grasped the edge of the heavy oak door, and began to close it.
"Wait! Nora, wait!" Dad cried, desperation clutching at his voice. "What do we need to do?! What will it take for you to call your insurance lawyers and stop the foreclosure?!"
I stopped closing the door just an inch before the latch clicked home, looking at my father one last time through the gap.
"There is nothing you can do," I said. "The house is gone. The car is impounded. And your son is going to have to learn how to support himself for the very first time in his life."
I pulled the door the rest of the way shut and threw the deadbolt.
May you like
Outside in the hallway, Tyler started kicking the heavy wood of the door, screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs, while my father begged him to stop.
I didn't call building security. I didn't flinch. I just walked back to my kitchen island, picked up my pen, and went back to work.
