Chapter 7 - Public Masks Begin to Slip
By Thursday morning, the silence of the Vance household had turned into an unbearable pressure cooker.
Without furniture, the family was camping in their own home. Daniel had been forced to spend his remaining cash at a big-box store buying three cheap air mattresses, two folding lawn chairs, and a camping cooler to keep milk cold for the children.
The kids were miserable. Emily refused to stop crying because her clothes were piled in garbage bags on her bedroom carpet. Jack kept asking why grandma was gone and who was going to make his pancakes.
"Shut up about your grandmother!" Rebecca snapped at breakfast, tossing a box of dry cereal onto the folding card table they had borrowed from a neighbor. "She abandoned us! That’s what she did! She’s a selfish, bitter old woman who ruined our family!"
"Rebecca, stop it," Daniel said wearily, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. His phone had been ringing nonstop with calls from vendors, mortgage loan officers, and the private school’s bursar office.
Then came the neighborhood gossip.
In an affluent enclave like North Scottsdale, secrets do not exist. Neighbors had watched three massive commercial moving trucks sit in the Vance driveway for eight hours on Black Friday. They had seen high-end furniture, Italian leather, and top-tier appliances being loaded onto hydraulic lifts while Margaret Vance calmly directed traffic with a coffee mug in hand.
At 10:00 AM, the doorbell chimed.
Rebecca rushed to the front door, desperately hoping it was a delivery or perhaps Margaret coming back to her senses. Instead, she found Courtney Kensington, the president of the community homeowners' association and Rebecca’s primary social rival.
"Rebecca, darling!" Courtney sang, peering over Rebecca’s shoulder into the echoing, curtain-less foyer with undisguised curiosity. "We saw the moving vans last weekend! Are you redecorating? Word on the street is that your mother-in-law was overseeing a total liquidation. I simply had to check in. We have the annual neighborhood charity gala committee meeting tomorrow, and you promised to host the champagne brunch, remember?"
Rebecca’s face flushed a deep, humiliating crimson. Through the wide doorway, Courtney could clearly see the empty living room, the bare drywall, the tangled electrical wires hanging from the ceiling, and Jack sitting on an inflatable mattress eating dry Froot Loops from a plastic cup.
"We... we had a water pipe burst," Rebecca lied desperately, her voice cracking with tension. "A catastrophic pipe burst behind the walls. We had to move everything into storage for remediation."
Courtney’s eyes glittered with catty amusement. "Oh, what a tragedy! Funny, though—I ran into sweet Margaret at the boutique bakery across from the Fairmont Princess yesterday afternoon. She was having afternoon tea with the president of the Arizona Arts Foundation. She didn't mention any water leak. In fact, she looked radiant. She mentioned something about finally downsizing her burdens."
Courtney tilted her head, offering a razor-thin, patronizing smile. "I suppose we’ll move the brunch to my house, dear. Clearly, you have your hands full."
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As Courtney walked down the flagstone driveway, Rebecca slammed the front door so hard the bare walls shook. She turned on Daniel, her voice reaching a hysterical pitch. "You go find her! You find that woman right now and make this right! If people find out we’re broke, my business is finished! Your business is finished! Fix this, Daniel!"
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