Chapter 12 - The Cracks in Ridgewood
While Harvest & Hearth was flourishing, trouble was brewing inside the sprawling colonial home in Ridgewood.
Without our family to use as a scapegoat or a punching bag, Susette’s obsessive need for control had begun turning inward on her own household.
Garrett was sinking deeper into misery. The tension at their Christmas dinner had left a dark stain on the family dynamics. Uncle Pete, who had initially stayed quiet during the scene, had later confronted Garrett at a New Year's Eve party after having a few drinks.
“You let your wife talk to your seven-year-old nephew like he was trash, Garrett,” Pete had reportedly told him in front of four relatives. “Wesley’s got more spine in his pinky finger than you’ve shown in six years.”
The embarrassment had eaten away at Garrett. He began staying late at his law firm office, avoiding going home to Ridgewood where Susette was constantly complaining about how "unfairly" my mother was treating her.
My mother, Marilyn, had finally stopped visiting the Ridgewood house. The image of little Caleb standing in that dining room, holding his empty plate while Susette coldly informed him he didn't belong, had begun playing on a loop in her mind. The fog of her desperate desire to "keep the peace" was finally beginning to clear, exposing the deep shame of her own inaction.
One rainy Tuesday afternoon, my office door opened, and my mother walked in unannounced.
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She looked smaller, tired, her coat wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She held a small bakery box in her trembling hands.
“Wes?” she asked softly, her voice laced with deep hesitation. “Do you have a few minutes for your mother?”
