Chapter 4 - Nicole Returns
That evening, my phone buzzed while I was packing our clothes into cardboard boxes. It was Nicole, my ex-wife.
She had just landed at the regional airport after a grueling week of medical-device conferences in Chicago. I hadn't told her the full extent of the Christmas dinner disaster yet—only that Maisie and I had left early because things had gotten tense.
“Grant, what on earth is going on?” Nicole’s voice rushed through the speaker, breathless and furious. “My sister just called me. She ran into Allison at the grocery store, and Allison told her that your mother threw you out on forty-eight hours' notice because you wouldn’t let them starve Maisie at Christmas? Are you out of your mind? Why didn’t you call me the second it happened?”
“I wanted to handle it, Nicole,” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck as I sealed another box with packing tape.
“Handle it? Grant, your family is clinically deranged!” Nicole ranted. “Give me your address right now. I’m driving straight from the airport to your place. Maisie is not spending another night under the thumb of those toxic narcissists.”
“Relax, Nic. We’re already packed,” I said, a slight grin tugging at my lips. “And we aren’t sleeping under their thumb. In fact, I just landed a senior management role at Hanover Medical Center today. A sixteen-percent raise. We’re renting a gorgeous two-bedroom townhouse off Elm Street starting January first. Movers are coming tomorrow morning.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“You… you got the Hanover job?” Nicole asked, her voice softening with genuine shock and pride. “The one you turned down because you thought you couldn't juggle it?”
“The very same,” I said. “I’m done letting my parents dictate what I’m capable of.”
“Grant Lawson… I am so damn proud of you,” Nicole breathed. Then, her tone shifted instantly from supportive ex-wife to absolute mama-bear vengeance. “Now, where are your parents right now?”
“At their house, basking in their own self-importance, probably.”
“Good,” Nicole snapped. “Because before I come over to help you pack, I have a quick pit stop to make at 1442 Maplewood.”
Before I could protest, the line went dead.
Twenty minutes later, Judith Lawson’s pristine, manicured world was shaken to its very foundation. According to Allison—who texted me later that night in a panic—Nicole had marched right up to my parents' front door, hammered on the wood until Judith answered, and proceeded to read my mother the riot act in front of Eric, Caleb, and my bewildered father.
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Nicole had shredded my mother’s cruelty, exposed her favoritism toward Caleb, and informed Judith that if she ever came within five hundred yards of Maisie again, she’d be facing a permanent restraining order and a very public social media exposé detailing the family’s toxic dynamics.
Judith had reportedly burst into tears of wounded pride, screaming that nobody appreciated her sacrifices, while Arthur simply sat in his armchair, staring at the floor, refusing to say a word in her defense.
