Chapter 2
The next morning, my phone rang.
It was an unknown number.
I didn't answer.
It called again soon after.
I hung up.
A third time. A fourth.
It wouldn't give up.
I knew who it was.
I picked up and said nothing.
"Grace, what is this supposed to mean?" Linda's shriek came through the receiver, nearly splitting my ears.
She asked, "Where's my allowance? Why hasn't it come through this month? Do you even know what day it is? Is the bank broken? Go check it. Now."
Her tone was matter-of-fact, full of orders, as if I was born to pay her.
I said, "No problem. The bank is fine. My account is fine, too."
Linda's voice jumped an octave, "Then what are you doing. You do it on purpose, don't you.
"Are you trying to starve me? I'm telling you, Grace, as part of The Johnsons, it's your duty to support me."
I answered coolly, "Oh.
"Linda, you may have forgotten. Eric and I got divorced yesterday. I'm not his wife anymore. So supporting you isn't my duty anymore, either."
The line went silent.
I could picture her face.
Shock, disbelief.
A few seconds later, she finally seemed to register it.
She shouted, "Divorce? What did you say? Divorce?
"Why didn't Eric tell me.
"You bitch. Did you talk my son into divorcing you?
"What were you plotting? You planned this all along, didn't you.
"I was telling you, divorced or not, you still had to pay me. You married into our family for three years, ate our food, used our things. You owed this money."
I listened to her abuse and found it almost funny.
I said, "Linda, you may have forgotten again.
"For the past three years, I paid every household expense.
"Eric's salary went to his car loan.
"The Johnsons didn't spend a cent on me.
"As for your allowance, that was only because I was your daughter-in-law.
"Now that's gone, the money is gone too."
"You..." Linda had nothing to say.
Then she started throwing a fit, "I don't care. I don't care. You have to pay me.
"Or I'll go to your workplace and make a scene. I'll go to your home and make a scene. I'll let everyone see what kind of ungrateful wretch you are."
I asked, "Where's my home?"
Linda rattled it off without thinking, "Riverside One, Building A, 1201."
"Fine. You're welcome to drop by anytime." Then I hung up.
I blocked her number.
The world was quiet again.
That afternoon, Lewis called.
He sounded thrilled, "Grace, great news. Someone's interested in the place. They're decisive, just photos and video, and they said yes. They love the price and will pay in full. They're asking how soon we can sign the contract."
I was surprised, "That fast?"
"Of course. Your place, location, layout, renovation. It's top-tier. And the price is the real hook. In this market, an all-cash buyer is king. Are you free tomorrow? Let's set a time for all three parties to meet and sign?"
"Sure. You pick the time and place. Let me know once it's set."
"You got it. Grace, wait for my good news."
After I hung up, I started browsing online for a new place.
Rent one. Smaller, cozier.
For one person, it was enough.
I even started planning my new life.
No Eric. No Linda.
Free. Light.
That evening, Eric called.
It was his first time contacting me after the divorce.
He asked, "Grace, my mom said you cut off her allowance?"
His tone was accusatory.
I answered, "Yes."
"What do you mean by that? We may be divorced, but you can't do this to my mom. She's old and in poor health. How is she supposed to live if you cut her off?"
Listening to him, I found it ironic.
"Eric, your mom is your mom, not mine. How she lives is your problem as her son, not mine as your ex-wife."
He sounded stuck, "You..."
I reminded him, "Don't forget you're still living in the house I bought."
He started getting worked up, "The place I live in has your name on the deed, but it was our marital home."
I said, "Yes. Our marital home. But it isn't marital property. I paid for it in full before we got married. It has nothing to do with you. Legally, it belongs to me alone."
"What do you mean?" Unease crept into his voice.
"I mean I'm selling that apartment," I said.
"What?" He nearly shouted, "You're selling the apartment? Grace, are you out of your mind. That's our home. If you sell it, where will we live."
I repeated the word, "We? Eric, you, Linda, your newborn son, and Emily, that's 'you.' Me, I'm me. I'll find my own home. Where you live has nothing to do with me."
"You can't do this, Grace. You're trying to wipe out our whole family." His voice trembled.
I said, "You have one day. Get your things, and your family's, out of my place. A moving crew will come tomorrow. Anything you leave behind, I'll treat as trash and dispose of it."
"Grace, you wouldn't dare."
"Watch me."
I hung up.
And I blocked his number, too.
I knew they'd come.
They definitely would.