Chapter 7 - The Unraveling of Melanie
By Thursday evening, the reality of their isolation set in with crushing force.
Without Thomas’s financial backing, their high-priced lifestyle disintegrated. Lawrence, realizing he was facing personal liability for corporate vehicle theft, drove the Ford F-250 truck back to Sterling Freight’s parking lot at midnight, dropped the keys into the overnight slot, and packed his bags, leaving Melanie in their rented guest house alone.
At eight o'clock on Friday morning, my phone rang.
It was Melanie.
Her voice was no longer arrogant or spiteful. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her speech slurred with exhaustion and panic.
"Sarah... please," Melanie wept into the phone. "Please put Thomas on the line. Lawrence left me. The bank turned off my water this morning. I have no money for Bella’s groceries. Please... ask him to stop the foreclosure!"
I sat at my kitchen table, watching Mia color a picture of a rainbow at the counter while Noah helped her pick out the right crayons.
"Thomas isn't here, Melanie," I said softly, my voice completely calm.
"Sarah, I'm sorry!" Melanie cried, her frantic apologies echoing through the speaker. "I was angry! Mom told me to post that thing on Facebook! She said if we made a big enough scene, Thomas would be embarrassed and turn the money back on! It was Mom's idea! I swear to God it was Mom's idea!"
"You are a thirty-four-year-old woman, Melanie," I said, feeling no anger toward her anymore—only a profound, pitying sadness. "You used my six-year-old daughter to try to blackmail my husband. You let your mother abuse my family for years because it paid for your lifestyle."
"What am I supposed to do?!" she wailed. "I have nowhere to go!"
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"I suggest you get a job, Melanie," I said. "Just like every other adult in this world. And if you ever post about my children on the internet again, Mr. Harrison will ensure you spend the next six months in a county jail cell."
I hung up the phone.
