Chapter 5 - The Ambush in Tulsa
Sharon didn't wait until five o'clock. She made the ninety-minute drive from Oklahoma City in an hour and fifteen minutes.
I had tried to leave twice, but Hank had begged me to stay. "You sit right there, Ivy," he had told me, his voice rough. "You spent six years paying for this circus. You're going to watch the tent come down."
At three-forty, tires crunched over the gravel driveway. A car door slammed with violent force.
The back door flew open, and my mother marched in. Her designer sunglasses were perched on top of her dyed blonde hair, her beige cardigan flared behind her like a cape, and her mouth was twisted into a rehearsed scowl of maternal outrage.
"Hank Porter, have you lost your absolute mind?" she barked, dropping her leather purse onto the counter. "Calling Megan and screaming at her in public? Accusing her of stealing? The girl was in tears in the middle of Dillard's! She couldn't even drive!"
She stopped abruptly when she saw me sitting at the end of the dining table. Her eyes flickered toward the broken roll-top desk visible down the open hallway, then down to the blue Bank of Oklahoma ledger resting in front of Hank.
The color drained from Sharon's face so rapidly it looked like someone had pulled a plug inside her.
"What did you do?" she whispered.
"I opened the mail, Sharon," Hank said. He didn't stand up. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on her like an interrogator studying a suspect. "I found the second lien."
Sharon swallowed hard. Her hand fluttered up to her collarbone, playing with her gold chain. "Hank... Hank, that was an investment. For our family. For our grandchildren."
"Our family?" Hank echoed, his voice dropping into a deadly register. "Or Megan and Wade?"
"Wade had business opportunities—"
"Wade is thirty-four years old and hasn't held a job longer than eight months since 2017!" Hank snapped. "You pulled a hundred and twenty thousand dollars against this house to buy him out of collection notices and put a down payment on their house in Moore! And then you told Ivy we were going to be evicted so she'd pay you seventeen hundred a month to service the note!"
Sharon’s eyes darted toward me. The panic in them instantly hardened into defense.
"She can afford it!" Sharon cried, pointing a manicured finger directly at my face, exactly as she had at Thanksgiving. "Look at her! Two shops! A brand-new crossover! Trips to Colorado! She doesn't have a family to take care of, Hank! Who is she saving it for? Dogs?"
"She was saving it for herself!" Hank bellowed, rising to his feet with such force that his chair skated backward and crashed into the sideboard. "Because she earned it! With her own two hands! Not by lying to her parents and bleeding her own sister dry!"
"I am her mother!" Sharon shrieked. "Everything I did, I did to keep Megan afloat! Megan has Tucker! Tucker is your blood grandson! Would you rather see your grandson out on the street just so Ivy can pile up more cash in her retirement accounts?"
"Tucker was never going to be out on the street," I said, speaking for the first time. My voice was dangerously quiet. "You stole one hundred and fifteen thousand dollars from me, Mom. You looked me in the eye at every holiday, ate my food, took my checks, and told Dad I was paying storage rent for an empty trailer."
Sharon sneered at me, the mask slipping off completely to reveal the cold resentment underneath. "You always thought you were better than Megan. Ever since high school. You never needed me. You never asked my advice. Megan needs me. Megan loves her family."
"Megan used you," Hank said, stepping between Sharon and me. "And you used Ivy. But it's done. You pack a bag, Sharon. Right now."
Sharon blinked, stunned. "What?"
May you like
"Pack a bag. Get back in your car and go to Oklahoma City. Because if you spend another night under this roof, I won't wait for a lawyer. I'll take this blue book straight down to the Tulsa County Sheriff's Office."
***
