“It’s not about your son. No one’s hurt. Come on back to the couch, Eliza. I’ll update you.”
He took my hand, and we walked to the living room. I sat down on the couch, and he sat on the coffee table facing me, so close that our knees touched.
“The sheriff came with the bailiff,” Hudson explained. “They had legal papers. You’re being evicted. The house is in your husband’s name?”
A sense of foreboding and doom engulfed me like a thick fog. “Everything is in his name. He said it was easier that way. I’m not good with legal matters or taxes. He said if it was all in his name, I wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with the bills and maintenance and the headaches. He said… Oh, no. What’s happening?”
Hudson took my hands in his. “He’s sold the house to Tammy, and you have to vacate. You have two hours.”
“He did what? I have to what?”
“It’s a trick, Eliza. He probably sold it for twenty dollars or something ridiculous, and he’s going to pocket it and manage to get you out.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want me to call someone?” Hudson asked, clearly upset for me. “I can call a lawyer.”
I looked past him to the rest of the living room and the kitchen, the curtains, and the carpets.
“Don’t call a lawyer,” I said.
He gave my hands a squeeze. “Eliza, I don’t think you understand what’s happening. You’re in shock. You have to leave your house in two hours and never come back. Do you understand?”
“May I have the television? I like the television.”
“You can bring your belongings. I think that includes the television.”
“I want the television, the photo albums of Jamie, and my clothes. I don’t want the house. I never liked the house. It was never my house. It was Steve’s house. He picked it out. He decorated it with an interior designer he chose. I had nothing to do with it except for cooking and cleaning.”
“You can have the television and photos and clothes,” Hudson assured me. “And whatever else you want from the house. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you,” I said and gave him a hug. He hugged me back. My head rested on his chest, and his chin rested on the top of my head. He was a good hugger, firm, but not too firm. He was a Goldilocks hugger. I was comfortable and felt safe, despite what was happening in my life. I could have stayed in Hudson’s embrace for hours, but I only had two hours to clear out my belongings from the house.
“Wait!” I cried and pulled out of the hug. “Where will I go? I have nowhere to go.”
Hudson smiled. “You’ll come home with me. You can stay at my place for as long as you want.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t…”
He touched the side of my head and let his hand glide down my hair, effectively quieting me. “You’re coming home with me, Eliza. It’s the next commandment.”
“You made that up.”
“I made up all the commandments. So, I can make up this one, too. Eliza, you’re coming home with me.”
CHAPTER 13
“A Sleepover in Batman’s Lair”
It’s an amazing thing to pack all of one’s belongings into a Camaro. It took Hudson and me an hour and a half to gather everything that was important in my life. That included the television, four photo albums, my purse with the bag of cash in it, a large suitcase of clothes and toiletries, a quilt that my grandmother made me, and a salt and pepper shaker that I bought at a thrift store. Hudson wouldn’t let me take any of the Delivery Happiness junk food I had stashed in the pantry.
All of those belongings fit in the Camaro’s backseat and trunk. Then, Hudson draped the blanket I had been using on the couch onto the roof of his car, and the sheriff deputies helped him strap my two handcrafted chairs onto it, and then one of the deputies had a bike rack he let Hudson borrow, and they hooked that to the back of the car.
“There,” I said, looking at the Camaro in the driveway. “All of my life’s accomplishments. Except for my son. But I didn’t have anything to do with his success. He did that on his own.”
“Nobody gets here alone,” Hudson told me. “Nobody. Besides, you have one more accomplishment you’re bringing.”
“I do?”
