Chapter 2 - The BusI boarded a city bus without knowing exactly where I was going. My phone buzzed continuously in my coat pocket. Priscilla called fourteen times before I finally answered.
"Where the hell are you?" she shouted, so loud the speaker vibrated. "I had to abandon three full carts of food at the register, and Roland's boss is coming over with no dinner prepared!"
"Then you will just have to cook something yourself," I replied calmly.
A stunned silence, then: "What on earth is wrong with you?"
"I am simply tired, Priscilla."
"And where exactly do you plan to sleep tonight? Because if you don't get back here right this minute, I am changing the locks on the front door!"
I watched streetlights flash past the window. "There is no need to bother changing the locks, my dear, because I have no intention of ever returning."
A few moments later, Roland took the phone and switched his voice into something friendlier. "Eleanor, listen to me, we are all just a little upset right now. Just tell me where you are sitting, and I will come pick you up."
"No, Roland."
"Let us be reasonable adults here," he insisted. "You live in our home completely free of rent every single month."
Those words cleared the last bit of fog from my mind.
"Roland, I handed you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from the sale of my house four years ago."
"That was generous family financial assistance, Eleanor," he answered smoothly.
"Then you can comfortably consider the last four years as rent paid in full, in advance," I said, and hung up.
I got off the bus and walked to the home of Delia, an old friend I'd worked alongside for decades at the regional medical clinic. When she opened her door and saw me standing there clutching my red purse, she asked no questions.
"Come inside right now," she said gently, pulling me into her warm hallway.
At her kitchen table, I told her everything that had happened over the previous four years. Delia shook her head sadly — she'd seen the warning signs before I had. "I warned you when you sold your property, Eleanor, but you were completely heartbroken over Walter's death and couldn't see clearly."
I reached into my bag and lined up my essential documents on her wooden table. My driver's license. Bank cards. Retirement pension papers. Everything important was safely with me.
May you like
Finally, I pulled out the heavy brass keys to Priscilla's house. I removed the tiny yellow plastic dinosaur keychain my grandson, Desmond, had given me months earlier, tucked it into my pocket, and tossed the brass keys into Delia's trash can.
"I am finally thinking clearly now, Delia," I said with a soft smile. "I no longer hold keys to any prison."
Related Stories
