Chapter 6 - THE FAMILY COUNCIL ERUPTS
Sunday evening arrived with a heavy, ominous chill. True to my word, I didn't confront Lindsay or my former in-laws directly at the beach house. Instead, Marcus and I executed Phase One: a formal, legally binding notice of emergency eviction and property reclamation, served directly to Susan and Frank at the beach house, while a parallel notice was handed to Matt by a process server while he was eating dinner at his country club.
Within two hours of the service, my phone began to light up like a switchboard on fire.
The first call was from Susan. I let it ring straight to voicemail. Then Frank. Then Matt.
Finally, a group FaceTime call popped up on my screen, showing Matt, Susan, and Lindsay all crammed into the living room of the beach house I had bought, looking frantic, furious, and utterly unhinged. I tapped accept, propping my phone up on the kitchen counter of my temporary hotel suite.
Matt’s face filled the screen, red with uncontained rage. "Andrea, have you completely lost your mind?! What is the meaning of these sheriff-backed eviction papers?!"
I calmly crossed my arms, looking down at the screen. "Good evening, Matt. It's nice of you to finally check in. You didn't seem this talkative when I asked where our son was living."
"You sent armed deputies to my parents' vacation home!" Lindsay shrieked, shoving her face into the frame. "We have two small children here! Mason and Leo are terrified!"
"Then I suggest you start packing their toys," I replied smoothly, my voice devoid of any emotion. "Because you are trespassing in a home that belongs exclusively to my son. You have less than twelve hours to remove every single piece of your luggage before the court-appointed receiver changes the locks."
Susan pushed Lindsay aside, her eyes blazing with aristocratic indignation. "Andrea, how dare you treat your elders this way! We were merely helping stabilize a family member in need! Frank and I allowed you to buy that house because we thought you had basic family values, but you're acting like a vindictive shrew!"
"No, Susan," I said, leaning closer to the camera so she could see the absolute frost in my eyes. "I am acting like a mother whose son was bullied, threatened, and forced into a roach-infested apartment by a pack of greedy, manipulative parasites. You thought you could erase Oliver just because it suited Lindsay's convenience. You forgot one minor detail."
"What detail?" Matt spat out defensively.
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"I paid for every single brick of that house," I said clearly. "And I write the checks that keep this family's fragile little social hierarchy afloat. Your free ride is officially over."
I tapped the screen, disconnecting the call before any of them could sputter another word of protest.
