Chapter 9 - The Garden of Healing
Spring arrived in Ohio with an explosion of green and gold.
The ancient oak trees in our backyard unfurled thick canopies of leaves, shading the newly planted flower beds where Lily and I spent our Saturday mornings planting tulips, hydrangeas, and sweet peas.
The transformation in our family over the past four months was nothing short of miraculous.
Dad had officially completed his divorce from Diane. The court had finalized the property settlement: the short sale of the Maple Drive house was complete, the fraudulent debts were fully dissolved, and Dad walked away with fifty-five thousand dollars in clean equity, which he promptly deposited into a high-yield retirement savings account that Diane could never touch.
He had downsized into a charming brick duplex three streets over from our house. He was working thirty hours a week as an independent finish carpenter, taking on only the jobs he loved, whistling while he worked, and coming over every Tuesday and Thursday evening to eat dinner with us and read bedtime stories to Lily.
Lauren was doing the hard, unglamorous work of rebuilding her life.
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She lived in a modest one-bedroom apartment, took the bus to her retail job when her old car needed repairs, and never once complained. Every two weeks, like clockwork, she transferred two hundred and fifty dollars into an account she had set up to repay Dad.
She came to our house on Sundays.
