Chapter 3
I put my phone down on the coffee table, got up, walked into the bedroom, opened the closet, and started packing up my things.
I grabbed three sets of clothes, a jacket, toiletries, and my charger. After a moment's thought, I tucked my passbook and the notarized papers into the side pocket of my bag.
Then I pulled out my phone and booked a flight to an island for tomorrow morning. I booked an ocean view room at a five-star hotel.
Once I finished packing, I sat down on the bed and glanced at my phone. The family group chat was silent. No one checked if I'd had dinner, and no one remembered to wish me a happy birthday.
I turned off the lights and lay down.
Robert still hadn't come home. He was still at Sunset Buffet, enjoying the buffet, knocking back beers, and celebrating his birthday with his family.
Tomorrow would mark the start of my fifty-sixth year.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow, I'd go to the beach on my own.
I spent seven days on the island.
Every morning, I woke up whenever I felt like it, and the first thing I saw when I pulled back the curtains was the ocean. The hotel's buffet was nice. I'd grab a window seat and enjoy my food.
After breakfast, I'd wander down to the beach, then head back for a nap. Afternoons were for lounging on the balcony, scrolling through novels on my phone, and in the evenings, I'd treat myself to a spa downstairs.
My phone wouldn't stop ringing. Robert called me more than a dozen times, and Layla sent message after message. [Mom, where are you?], [Mom, reply, please.], [Mom, are you leaving me?]
Michael texted too, wanting to talk about the money again. Lisa didn't call, but she sent a voice message. I didn't even open it.
I didn't reply to any of them.
It wasn't about being petty. I really didn't want to answer. All those voices and messages of saying how they miss me felt flimsy after what I overheard outside Sunset Buffet seven nights ago.
On the afternoon of the seventh day, I packed up and left the hotel, then flew back to Riverdale.
The first thing I did after landing wasn't going home. It was heading straight to the real estate office.
Alex King rushed over to open the door for me. "Linda, glad you made it! You weren't picking up your phone. I was starting to think you weren't going to sell after all."
"Yeah, I'm selling." I dropped the keys for both houses on the desk. "List them at the price you suggested, and sell them fast."
"Linda, these places are in a prime spot. They'll sell easily. Should I list them for a bit more?" Alex asked.
"No, stick to that price. Make it quick," I replied.
Alex glanced at me, but didn't ask anything else. He knew not to ask questions he shouldn't.
Both houses sold in three days. One for 1.2 million, the other for one million. It was all in my account by the end of the day.
Next, I went to the registration office. The Audi A4L was in my name. When we bought it, Robert thought the paperwork was a hassle and had me handle everything. He probably forgot or never cared. After all, he was always the one behind the wheel.
The guy at the used car lot circled the car, popped the hood, checked the engine, then crouched down to look at the undercarriage. "Ma'am, you've kept this car in great shape," he said.
"Robert was always particular about it," I replied.
"70,000 dollars. Does that sound good to you?" he asked.
"That's fine," I said.
He transferred the money right there and drove the car away. I stood on the curb, watching the silver-gray Audi merge into traffic. Its taillights blinked twice, then it vanished around the corner.
We bought that car six years ago, the year Layla got married. Robert adored it, washing it himself every single weekend.
Now, it was gone.
After taking care of all that, I finally went home.