“I can, and I am,” I stated plainly, checking my watch. “3 minutes left.”
Vanessa glared at me with pure unadulterated hatred.
“You’re crazy. Jared is going to cut you out of his life completely.”
“Jared is an adult. He can make his own choices. Two minutes.”
Muttering curses, Vanessa grabbed her designer bag, turned on her heel, and stormed back to the SUV.
Her parents quickly followed, clearly uncomfortable with my absolute lack of emotional reaction.
They climbed inside and angrily started the engine.
I pressed the button on the remote.
The gate slowly rolled open.
They sped out so fast they nearly clipped the stone pillar.
I pressed the button again, closing the gate, and went back to my book.
The next morning, I drove into town to check my post office box.
Nestled between seed cataloges and local grocery flyers was a thick envelope from a major bank.
It was addressed solely to me.
I tore it open in the parking lot.
It was a notification regarding a secondary credit card attached to my name, a card I had given Jared 5 years ago for extreme emergencies.
The balance was maxed out at $25,000.
I sat in the driver’s seat staring hard at the printed statement.
The charges were all from the last three weeks.
High-end restaurants in Miami, designer boutiques, and a luxury day spa.
They weren’t just struggling to pay the basic HOA fees.
They were actively spending money they didn’t have to keep up appearances.
And they were putting it all on a card with my name attached to it.
I drove straight to the local branch of that bank.