Lily Leaves Home

After last night, when the cops were called once again, there was no way Lily Stanton could stay in that house for another minute.  The neighbors, the calls where there was silence at the other end, the endless tension of what was going to happen when, it was all too much.  Her parents’ nightmare couldn’t be her nightmare any longer.  She had discussed the situation with her brother Sloan, and he told her, “Get out.  You’re not the criminal.  You shouldn’t be imprisoned by the circumstances.”

In the brief moments when her parents weren’t in the house, she had brought down two of her suitcases from college.  At night she packed, then eased the cases under her bed.  Today was the day when they would both be out, meeting her father’s lawyer.  She would text her mother when she was well away from Scarsdale and could breathe again.  Wherever she ended up would be fine, as she could work remotely and probably would always be able to with this medical billing job.

At ten o’clock in the morning, she wheeled the suitcases through the hallway and into their four-car garage.  Her Honda was sitting there, waiting for her, tank full, she was free.  But where to go?

She headed east, crossing over into Connecticut.  It was, she later considered, a subliminal move.  She could have gone north or west, not south, as that would take her into the tangle that was New York traffic.  But—yeah—east was where Frank Franklin lived.  How stupid was she, but she had come to depend on Frank’s support, even if he didn’t realize how much she needed to hear from him.  Why would he?  His life was going along just great.  But for her their nonsensical exchanges and the silly, stupid things they shared had been a balm.  Still, she wondered.  Would she dare to reach out to him now?

When she hit New Britain, she decided to take a chance and call him.  His cell of course.  She knew he was probably busy, and she was imposing, but—  Oh, hell, she had to talk to someone.  Of course, she could call her college roommate in Texas, but doubted Annilee would be able to come to her rescue from this great distance.  Then Annilee would press for the whole story of why Lily was leaving the comfort of her rent-free abode.  Like, Lily was going to tell anyone who didn’t already know about her father’s misdeeds?  Or, more bluntly, criminal activity?

When Frank answered his cell, Lily said, “I’m imposing.”

“Of course.  But don’t worry. I’ll charge you by the hour,” he joked.  Then wondered at the silence at the other end of the line.

“I’ve left.  Finally.”  Her sigh almost turned into a sob.

“Wow.  What are you going to do?”

“Don’t know.  I’m—  Do you think we could meet for lunch?”

“You’re in Hartford?”

“New Britain.”

Frank gave that some thought.  His silence made Lily nervous, until he spoke again.  “You don’t want to stop in downtown Hartford.  Traffic’s a mess, as is parking.  Just continue on 84 until it joins 91.  Take 91 to the first exit, cross over the highway, and there’s a restaurant in that strip mall called Peacock.  If I leave now, we should get there about the same time.”

“But your work?”

“No appointments.  Nothing that can’t wait.”

When Frank got out of his car, he heard another car door opening and saw Lily, dressed in jeans and an Aran sweater.  Smiling, he waited for her.  He could see that she was not in good shape.  When he first met her at Trader Joe’s, there was still a glow about her. An angry glow but still a glow.  Now she looked pale and defeated.  All he could do was shake his head.  Poor kid.

She came to him with tears in her eyes.  He held out his arms.  The embrace lasted until it began to feel awkward, but he let her pull away.  “I needed that hug,” she said.  “I’ve just been so—“

“I can see.”

“I look like shit?”

“You look—distressed.  Let’s go eat and you can tell me all about it.”

Despite the name, the Peacock was unpretentious, serving soup and fries—substitute salad for a dollar extra—with every meal ordered.  At least one wouldn’t go hungry.  But why was the soup of the day cream of broccoli?  They both ordered the tomato bisque instead, Lily had the Caesar salad wrap, while Frank chose the buffalo chicken on a pretzel bun.  It was a bit late for lunch so service was swift.

“Tell me,” was all he had to say, encouraging Lily to fill him in in excruciating detail about Chez Stanton’s.

“The police coming because the neighbors were complaining, the phone calls, the Treasury agents calling Dad in, my mother trying to ignore Dad’s situation, which has also become hers.  And mine.  I talked it over with my brother Sloan, and he encouraged me to leave.  Well gave his blessing when I said I had to leave.  I haven’t texted them yet.  I’ll do that sometime late this afternoon before my mother begins to worry.  How do people survive situations like this?”

“Fortunately, I only deal in real estate and that’s fraught enough with all the money involved.  But it’s only money.  I don’t think I could ever do criminal law.  Dealing people at their worst moment.  Which is, of course, when they need a lawyer most.  But—not this lawyer.”

The sandwiches and fries were huge enough to take half home, should either of them be going home.  Lily wasn’t and Frank supposed he could take his back to the office.  There was a fridge, and this meant he wouldn’t have to worry about dinner.  “So what will you do now?” he asked.

Lily shrugged.  “Keep driving I suppose.  Maybe New Hampshire.  Vermont.  Find a hotel for the night.  After that, I just don’t know.”

Frank sat there, remembering his mother’s warning in stark detail.  And yet—  And yet.  “You know, there’s my house up in Massachusetts.  It’s semi-furnished, as the widow I bought it from couldn’t take most of her pieces when she moved to assisted living.  There’s construction going on, the kitchen and bathrooms are being remodeled, but there’s a half bath and no one’s touched the bedrooms.  It’s close by and you look exhausted.  You can stay there tonight until you figure out what you want to do, where you want to go.”

“Oh, Frank, that’s so generous, but—“  She sighed.  “I don’t know.”  She looked into his eyes to see if he was being sincere or if he just felt extra special sorry for her.  But the offer seemed real.  And heartfelt.  “Maybe?”

They had their leftovers boxed up and Frank paid for lunch. Lily offered to pay half, but he said, “Don’t be silly.”  Then he had her follow him up 91, told her what exit to take, then waited for her so that she could follow him to his farmhouse.  Trucks were on the street and in the driveway, but he could pull around them and so could Lily.  Then they had to walk back around to the front as the kitchen door would lead them into the construction zone.

Lily upon being ushered in said, “Wow. This is old.  You have a sun room!”

“Yeah, I loved that too.  In the parlor, as I don’t know what else to call it, they’ve set up a microwave and a mini fridge. The half bath is right here off the hallway. He then showed her upstairs to the bedrooms.

“It’s so—and yet it has character,” Lily concluded.  “Do you ever watch ‘House Hunters’ and all those programs?  I love them.  I love the projects they undertake.”

Walking around, taking in all the bedrooms, the hallway, the window views, Lily was smiling.  That smile made Frank happy. “Look, I’ve got to get back to the office.  You make yourself at home.  Fair warning, the guys arrive at eight to start work.”

Lily walked him out to his car.  “Thank you.  You can have no idea what this means to me.”

Shrugging, Frank asked, “What are friends for?”

He would not feel guilty as he drove back toward Hartford and the office.  Lily would be gone in the morning, and his mother would never know.  So, no harm, no foul.  Or something like that.