Chapter 18 - Margaret’s Decision
Margaret decided not to sell the house.
Not yet.
She changed the locks.
Removed Laura’s access.
Hired an accountant.
Put her finances into a protected trust with an independent manager.
Then she did something Robert would never have expected.
She turned the detached garage into a foster room for senior cats.
“Absolutely not,” I said.
She laughed.
“You run a rescue.”
“So do I.”
She fostered one cat.
Then two.
Charlie hated both of them.
For four days.
Then tolerated them.
For another week.
Margaret sent me a photo.
Caption:
The king has accepted a peasant.
The house became noisy again.
Different noise.
Food bowls.
Medication alarms.
Volunteers.
Laughter.
Margaret still visited Laura.
Not often.
Supervised.
Their conversations were hard.
Laura began therapy.
Real therapy.
Not court language.
Not excuses.
Some lasted an hour.
Margaret never promised forgiveness.
Laura stopped asking.
That mattered.
One afternoon, Margaret told her:
“Your father loved you.”
Laura whispered:
“He ruined me.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No. He helped you avoid becoming responsible. That hurt you. But what you did later was still yours.”
Laura cried.
Margaret cried too.
Then they kept talking.
Outside the prison, Margaret called me.
“I finally said it.”
“How do you feel?”
“Terrible.”
“Sounds about right.”
She laughed.
At home, Charlie met her at the door.
Not crying.
Demanding dinner.
Normal cat outrage.
The best sound in the world.
Then Lakeside received a package.
No return address.
Robert’s insurance policy had finally paid.
Attached note from the insurer:
Margaret looked at me.
“He really did it.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Then we should spend every dollar on old, difficult cats.”
Charlie knocked a pen off my desk.
May you like
Margaret pointed at him.
“Starting with management.”
