Chapter 7 - The Fall of a Son
My father's face went pale. For a second, he looked like a little boy who had been caught stealing candy.
"Mom," he started, taking a hesitant step toward her. "I didn't mean it like that."
Grandma Hazel stood completely straight. She didn't cry this time. The sadness in her eyes had been replaced by something much harder.
"Get out of my house, David," she said. Her voice didn't shake at all.
"Mom, please, you have to listen to me," he begged, desperation creeping into his voice. "The bank is threatening to foreclose on my house. You have to sign the deed over to me. Just as collateral. I'll give it back!"
I stepped between them. "Are you insane? You want her to risk her own house to save yours?"
"It's the only way!" he yelled, pointing a finger at me. "If you hadn't brought that damn lawyer into this, I could have fixed it!"
"Fixed what?" Grandma asked coldly. "By stealing my home next?"
Before he could answer, the front yard lit up with flashing red and blue lights.
A police siren gave a short, sharp chirp.
My father froze, his eyes darting to the window. "You called the cops?"
"Mr. Sterling did," I said. "Breaking and entering is a felony, Dad."
"I have a key!" he shouted, patting his pockets frantically.
"But you didn't use it," I reminded him. "You sneaked in through a broken sliding door in the middle of the night."
Heavy knocks pounded on the front door. "Police! Open up!"
My father looked at the back door, clearly calculating his chances of running.
"Don't do it, David," Grandma said softly. "Don't make this worse than it already is."
He slumped in defeat. All the arrogance drained out of him, leaving behind a pathetic, broken man.
I walked past him and unlocked the front door.
Two police officers stood on the porch, their hands resting cautiously on their belts. Mr. Sterling pulled up in his car right behind them.
"We have a report of a break-in," the older officer said.
"He's in the office," I pointed down the hall.
The officers bypassed me and found my father sitting on the floor of the office, his head in his hands.
"David Vance?" the officer asked. "Stand up, please."
As they handcuffed him, my father looked at Grandma one last time.
"Mom, please," he whimpered. "Tell them it's a misunderstanding."
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Grandma Hazel looked him right in the eye.
"I forgot who you were," she said quietly. "Just go to jail."
