Chapter 7 - The Cleansing
On Saturday morning, I walked through the front door of my house accompanied not by lawyers or police officers, but by an army of people who loved Ivy.
My mother, Beverly, arrived carrying three buckets of steaming, lemon-scented cleaning solution, mops, and scrubbing brushes. Behind her came Andi and Blair with trash bags, paint rollers, and boxes of fresh white linen. Grandpa Howard pulled up in his pickup truck, unloading tools, ladders, and lumber.
"Alright, people," Beverly announced, planting her hands on her hips like a general commanding troops. "Every trace of that woman’s energy is leaving this house today. We scrub the baseboards, we repaint the walls, and we move my granddaughter’s bedroom back upstairs where it belongs!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Andi laughed, tying her hair up in a bandanna.
For the next eight hours, the house buzzed with life, sweat, and laughter.
We dragged every piece of furniture Marlene had touched out to the driveway for an estate sale company to haul away. We ripped down the heavy, dark velvet curtains she had hung in the living room and replaced them with sheer, white linen that let the winter sunshine flood the oak floors.
Upstairs, my father and I carried Ivy’s bed up from the dark basement and reinstalled it in the spacious corner bedroom overlooking the mountains. We set up Natalie’s wildflower bookshelf beside the window, carefully placing Ivy's sketchbooks, framed photos, and art trophies on the shelves.
By mid-afternoon, the scent of lavender and citrus had completely eradicated the lingering floral perfume Marlene used to spray in every hallway.
Around three o'clock, while Howard was re-hanging a family portrait of Natalie, Ivy, and me from our trip to Yellowstone years ago, a sharp knock sounded at the front door.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and walked down the stairs. Standing on the porch was Marlene’s mother, Evelyn, looking furious, holding a legal envelope.
"Peter," Evelyn began coldly, not waiting for an invitation. "Marlene informed me of that ridiculous, coerced settlement you forced her to sign. I am here to inform you that we are hiring an appellate attorney to have it set aside for duress. You cannot strip my daughter of her marital equity!"
Before I could answer, my mother walked out of the kitchen, holding a dripping mop.
Beverly Sterling was five-foot-two, but when she was angry, she cast a shadow the size of a mountain. She stepped between me and Evelyn, planting the mop handle firmly on the floor like a staff.
"Evelyn," my mother said, her voice dropping into a register that could cut diamonds. "If you take one more step onto this porch, I will introduce this mop to your designer wool coat."
Evelyn gasped, stepping back in horror. "Excuse me? How dare you speak to me like that! I am a member of the—"
"I don't give a damn what country club you belong to," Beverly said, taking a step forward. "Your daughter abused my granddaughter. She locked a ten-year-old child out on Christmas morning and tried to rob this family blind. You raised a thief and a bully, Evelyn. And if you ever come near this house or my granddaughter again, you won't be dealing with lawyers. You will be dealing with me. Now get off this porch before I call the sanitation department to take out the rest of the trash."
Evelyn’s mouth opened and closed like a landed trout. Seeing that neither of us was going to budge, she spun on her high heels, hurried down the walkway, climbed into her Lexus, and sped away, throwing up slush behind her tires.
My mother turned to me, adjusted her apron, and smiled brightly.
"Now," Beverly said, "who wants more hot cider?"
From the top of the stairs, a soft giggle echoed down.
I looked up. Ivy was standing on the landing, leaning against the wooden railing, wearing her oversized woolen socks and Natalie's old flannel shirt. She was smiling—a real, genuine, unshadowed smile that lit up the entire hallway.
"Grandma?" Ivy asked.
"Yes, my darling?"
"Can we paint my room lavender?"
May you like
My mother’s eyes softened, a warm tear slipping down her cheek. "Sweetheart, we can paint it any color in God’s rainbow. Come on down here and pick out the swatches."
***
