Chapter 7 - The Eviction on Bear Hollow Road
Friday evening came to Greenwich with a heavy, cold rain that fell through the cedar trees, turning the long gravel driveway of 142 Bear Hollow Road into a slick, dark mirror.
At six-forty-five, two silver moving vans pulled through the electronic gates, followed by a black Lincoln Town Car carrying Arthur Sterling and two representatives from the Sheriff's Department.
Ryan stood under the broad portico of the main house, wearing a rain jacket over his shirt, his hands jammed deep into his pockets.
Beside him stood Margaret, wrapped in an old wool coat, crying softly into a tissue as she watched two movers carry a mahogany chest of drawers out the front doors.
Denise was standing near her SUV, furiously arguing on her cell phone with a lease manager who had just informed her that the corporate gas card assigned to her vehicle had been cancelled for unauthorized usage.
Sophie sat in the passenger seat of Ryan’s Audi, her face buried in her hands, her small shoulders shaking with quiet, exhausted sobs.
The back door of the Lincoln Town Car opened.
Evelyn stepped out into the rain. Nora Bell held a large black umbrella over her head as they walked up the stone steps toward the portico.
Margaret saw her first. She broke away from Ryan, stepping forward, her eyes wild with a mixture of bitter hatred and desperate, pathetic pleading.
"You witch!" Margaret screamed, her voice echoing under the stone archway. "You heartless, evil witch! How can you do this to your own family? Where is my son supposed to live? Where is his baby supposed to go?"
Evelyn stopped three feet from her mother-in-law.
"This is not my family, Margaret," Evelyn said quietly. "And as for where you are going—I believe Ryan’s sister has a three-bedroom townhouse in Bridgeport. It doesn't have an east wing, but I’m sure your joint pain will manage."
"Evelyn," Ryan said, stepping between his mother and his wife.
His face was drawn, gray, and aged ten years in three days. The arrogant, untouchable tech mogul had vanished entirely, replaced by the tired, desperate man who had slept on a worn mattress above an auto-parts shop in Stamford.
"Evelyn... please," Ryan whispered, his hands hovering near his sides, not daring to touch her. "Don't do this to the company. Don't do this to us. We can go to counseling. We can send Sophie back to Ohio. I'll sell the sports cars. I'll do whatever you want."
Evelyn looked at him.
She looked at his wet hair, his trembling hands, his desperate blue eyes searching her face for any remnant of the girl who had loved him eight years ago.
"You still don't understand, do you, Ryan?" Evelyn asked softly.
"Understand what?" he choked out.
"I didn't destroy your company," she said, her voice calm and absolute against the sound of the rain falling on the slate roof. "I built your company. And then I let you play with it until you mistook my generosity for your own greatness."
She looked past him, at the movers carrying the last boxes out of the grand foyer.
"The car is waiting to take you to the train station, Ryan," Evelyn added. "Your seventy-two hours are up."
May you like
She turned her back on him, walking through the open double doors into the warm, dry silence of the grand foyer.
Nora Bell stepped inside behind her, closed the heavy oak doors with a firm, solid thud, and turned the brass deadbolt from the inside.
