I answered.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“Liam, please.”
“Everyone leaves.”
“We need to talk.”
“We already talked.”
“Not like this.”
“You’re right.”
“Last time you didn’t bring a trailer.”
In the background Chloe shouted:
“He’s bluffing.”
I raised my voice.
“I’m not.”
“If you do not leave my property, I will call the police and ask that anyone refusing to leave be formally trespassed.”
Arthur groaned.
“Don’t involve the police.”
“Then leave.”
“The children are here.”
“Take them home.”
“They’re hot.”
“Arthur.”
“My air conditioner is not the family’s emergency shelter.”
He sighed.
“Please come outside.”
“No.”
I hung up.
Five minutes passed.
Then heavy knocking.
I opened the door three inches with the security chain attached.
Arthur stood there.
Chloe behind him.
The family on the lawn.
“Son—”
“Don’t.”
Arthur looked wounded.
“Don’t call me son while standing here helping your daughter force her way into my house.”
His face crumpled.
“Liam.”
“Whose idea was the truck?”
He looked toward Chloe.
That was enough.
She pushed forward.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
I looked past Arthur.
“Did you tell everybody I had agreed?”
She crossed her arms.
“I told them this was happening.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Stop acting like a lawyer.”
“Did you tell them I agreed?”
Silence.
Ryan called from the driveway.
“Chloe?”
She turned.
“This is between us.”
“No,” I said.
“You made it everybody’s business.”
I raised my voice.
“Did any of you know I explicitly said no?”
Nobody answered.
Brenda frowned.
“You said he was reconsidering.”
Chloe snapped:
“He was.”
I laughed.
“No.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
I looked at Ryan and Eric.
“Did she tell you I asked for help moving?”
Ryan slowly shook his head.
“She said the family had settled it.”
“The family cannot settle who lives in my house.”
Chloe grabbed the edge of the door.
The chain stopped it.
“You’re humiliating me.”
I stared at her hand.
“Let go of my door.”
She did.
Arthur whispered:
“Chloe.”
She stepped back.
I opened the door slightly wider but left the chain.
Then I asked the question that changed the driveway.
“How much rent is she paying?”
Silence.
Brenda looked toward Chloe.
I continued.
“Anybody know?”
“No?”
“Utilities?”
Nothing.
“Property taxes?”
Nothing.
“Insurance?”
Nothing.
“Move-out date?”
Brenda finally spoke.
“She said two or three months.”