Guilt and grief knotted together in my chest as I reached out and held his hand.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I made you worry again."
He stroked my head the way he used to when I was small, and gently wiped my tears with a napkin.
"You're my daughter. No matter how much I do for you, it's never too much."
Warmth flooded through me. I pulled out my phone right there and called my friend who practiced divorce law.
Once the divorce agreement was finalized, Dad and I headed home.
On the way, I contacted a moving company.
I was done waiting. Not one more second.
At the front door, seven or eight extra pairs of shoes were lined up on the mat.
My heart sank all over again.
Edgar had broken his promise.
Through the gap in the door, a thick wall of cigarette smoke drifted out, so acrid it stung my eyes to tears.
Dread pooled low in my stomach.
I pushed the door open and realized I had still underestimated Georgette's shamelessness.
I'd told her no card-playing friends. So she'd invited her relatives instead.
The living room, which I had left spotless, was covered in cigarette butts.
The flowers on the coffee table were gone. All that remained were shredded petals ground into the surface.
Worse was the couch beside it. Three thousand dollars of genuine leather.
Sunflower seed shells, peanut skins, beer cans, takeout containers piled on top of each other, their juices pooling and mixing together. The stench was unbearable.
For a split second, I thought I'd walked into a landfill.
But what sent the real fury roaring through me were the collectible figurines beside the TV.
All of them had been tossed on the floor.
The kids had snapped them apart, every last piece.
I couldn't hold back any longer. My voice came out sharp enough to cut.
"Stop it! Who said you could touch those?!"
Nobody paid me any attention.
The kids stuck their tongues out at me and scattered.
Their parents shot me a dirty look and went straight to Georgette to complain.
"Auntie, this daughter-in-law of yours has no manners at all. She didn't even greet her elders when she walked in."
"Exactly. Disrespecting her elders is one thing, but picking fights with little kids? You can tell she's from a small town. No class whatsoever."
"Well, obviously. If she hadn't landed a good man like our Edgar, she'd probably never have found a husband at all!"