Chapter 5 - Alyssa's Boiling Point
By Saturday morning, the heat inside the house was unbearable.
Without water, the toilets couldn't be flushed. The sour stench of backed-up plumbing mingled with the sticky Ohio humidity, making the air almost toxic. Alyssa sat on the edge of the living room sofa, her unwashed hair tied in a chaotic knot, staring at the front door with sunken, exhausted eyes.
She hadn't showered in forty-eight hours. She had washed her face using a twenty-four-pack of bottled drinking water Gavin had bought from the corner gas station for fifteen dollars—money he had to scrape together using loose quarters from his glove compartment.
""I can't do this anymore, Gavin,"" Alyssa said, her voice eerily calm, stripped of its usual haughty bravado. ""My sister offered to let me stay in her guest room in Cincinnati. I'm packing my things.""
""Alyssa, please, don't leave,"" Gavin pleaded, pacing the living room floor in a sweat-stained undershirt. ""I went down to the city office this morning! They told me that because my name isn't on the deed, I can't turn the water back on without Mom's written notarized consent or a certified lease agreement!""
Alyssa let out a bitter, dry laugh. ""A lease agreement? You're telling me you don't even have a legal right to occupy this property?""
""I'm her son!"" Gavin cried out, waving his arms wildly. ""What mother does this to her own flesh and blood?!""
""A mother who got pushed past her breaking point by an arrogant boy who thought he was a king,"" a voice echoed through the screen door.
Gavin and Alyssa both spun around.
Standing on the front porch was Pastor Thomas from the Maplewood Baptist Church—the church Walter and I had attended every Sunday for forty-five years. Pastor Thomas was seventy-two, with silver hair, kind brown eyes, and the quiet, immovable posture of a man who had seen every human failing under the sun.
Under his arm, Pastor Thomas carried a small thermal cooler and a thick Manila envelope.
Gavin rushed to the front door, pushing open the screen. ""Pastor Thomas! Did my mother send you? Where is she?! What is she doing?!""
Pastor Thomas did not step inside. He looked at Gavin with a mixture of profound sorrow and stern disappointment. He set the cooler on the porch bench. ""There's fresh ice and some cold sandwiches in there from the church ladies, Gavin. Nobody deserves to starve, even when they bring catastrophe upon their own heads.""
""Where is she, Pastor?"" Gavin demanded, his voice cracking. ""Tell me where she is! I need her to sign the utility papers! We don't have water! We don't have power! Alyssa is leaving me!""
""Your mother is safe, Gavin. And for the first time since Walter passed into the arms of the Lord, she is sleeping through the night without crying,"" Pastor Thomas replied, his words hitting Gavin like physical stones.
Alyssa stepped up behind Gavin, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. ""Pastor, tell her to come home. We... we can talk about this. We can split the bills! Gavin can pay his share!""
Pastor Thomas turned his gaze toward Alyssa. His eyes were not unkind, but they were unyielding. ""Mrs. Campbell, Martha gave you her master bedroom. She gave you Walter’s handcrafted kitchen. She gave you four years of her pension so you two could drive luxury automobiles and pretend to be high society. And in return, you told her that her wet laundry was an eyesore.""
Alyssa’s face flushed a deep, shameful scarlet. She looked down at the porch floorboards, unable to meet the old minister's gaze.
""She doesn't want your money, Gavin,"" Pastor Thomas continued, handing the thick Manila envelope to my son. ""And she certainly doesn't want your permission to live in her own home.""
Gavin looked down at the envelope. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely break the paper seal.
""What is this?"" Gavin whispered.
May you like
""That,"" Pastor Thomas said quietly, ""is the formal notice from her attorney. Read it carefully, son. Because your father isn't here to soften the blow.""
With that, Pastor Thomas turned and walked down the brick pathway, leaving the two of them standing in the doorway of a dark, silent, and dying house.
