Vanessa’s children’s bicycles were lying in the driveway.
Suddenly the satisfaction I expected did not come.
“I don’t want her children harmed because we argued.”
“They won’t be.”
He shook his head.
“She has two months.”
“And I’ve offered to return the full deposit if she restores what she altered and leaves the property in proper condition.”
“That seems fair.”
“It is more than fair.”
He smiled slightly.
“Your husband would have told me I’m being soft.”
That made me laugh.
“Yes.”
“He probably would.”
After he left, I sat on the porch for a long time.
I had imagined what it would feel like if Vanessa finally faced serious consequences.
Triumphant.
Vindicated.
Instead, I felt mostly tired.
I did not want revenge.
I wanted my electricity.
My water.
My tools.
My yard.
My right to say no and have the word mean something.
Vanessa confronted me three days later.
She marched across the lawn.
“You got what you wanted.”
I was trimming basil.
“What did I want?”
“You know.”
“Do I?”
“They aren’t renewing my lease.”
I put down the scissors.
“I heard.”
“Of course you did.”
“The owner told me.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You destroyed everything over electricity.”
“No.”
I stood.
“You installed an unapproved charger.”
Her face tightened.
“You altered the house.”
She said nothing.
“You damaged plumbing.”
Still nothing.
“You were behind on rent.”
Her eyes flashed.
“That is none of your business.”
“You are correct.”
I nodded.
“It isn’t.”
“Then why are you talking about it?”
“Because you just blamed me for it.”
She stared.
I continued.
