“I already told Mom we’d settle it tonight.” Eleanor stood up slowly and walked to the window. Outside, the lights of the neighborhood glowed in the dark.
Cars passed. People hurried home. Life went on the way it always did—hard-earned, practical, and not especially sentimental. She turned back to Mike.
Her face was smooth, calm, almost serene. “All right, Mike. You’re absolutely right. We can’t go on like this. Somebody does need to leave.” Mike lit up, because he had not expected the fortress to fall so easily.
Apparently his mother’s authority had finally done the trick. “That’s my girl. I knew you’d come around. We’ll tell Tyler in the morning.”
“No, why wait?” Eleanor smiled faintly. “Go tell your mother right now that the living arrangement has been settled once and for all.” Mike, buoyed by what he thought was an easy victory, kissed her on the cheek.
She barely resisted wiping it off. He headed happily into the living room to report to his mother that negotiations had gone his way. Eleanor took out her phone.
She dialed a number she had saved a week earlier after a long conversation with her neighbor, Mr. Harris, a retired contractor. “Hi, Steve, it’s Eleanor. I’m calling about that full-service move-out job.
Yes, I need the emergency rate. Double pay, just like we discussed. I need sober movers—great, I’ll be waiting. And bring new locks too, please.”
The next hour passed in a surreal calm. Mike and Gloria drank tea and loudly discussed how they would rearrange the furniture in Maddie’s room. Tyler bounced on the expensive couch, yelling.
Eleanor sat quietly in the armchair by the front door with a book in her hands. Or pretended to read, since she never turned a page. She regretted only one thing: wasting six months of her life on a man this useless.
Then again, maybe it was a useful vaccination. A lifelong immunity to parasites. “Eleanor!” Gloria called from the other room.
“These pink curtains have to go. Tyler needs dark ones. Full blackout.” “Of course, Gloria,” Eleanor answered evenly. “Whatever you want.”
An hour later, the doorbell rang—short and businesslike. Mike opened it without a second thought. He was sure the pizza had finally arrived. On the porch stood four solidly built men in matching green work uniforms.
These weren’t college kids looking for side cash. These were professional movers—broad-shouldered, calm, carrying rolls of stretch wrap and large boxes. Behind them stood a locksmith with a heavy toolbox…
