I couldn’t make out the words, but I could tell from his posture that this wasn’t a calm check-in.
This was the beginning of damage control.
After a minute, he turned around and started walking back toward the building.
Cassie was still there, sitting on one of the boxes, legs crossed, phone in her lap.
I scanning the sidewalk like she was expecting some divine intervention to descend from the sky.
Mom stood stiffly beside her, arms folded so tight it looked like she was hugging herself.
No one spoke.
I wondered how long they had been like that.
Waiting, assuming I’d eventually appear to save the day like I always had.
But I didn’t move.
I just sat there, parked behind a row of hedges, a few buildings down, watching the family dynamic unfold from the outside, literally and metaphorically.
And it hit me how theatrical it all was.
Three grown adults staging a sit in outside an apartment that didn’t belong to any of us anymore, demanding I show up to make their problem go away.
Around 2:00 p.m., a neighbor must have come out.
I saw her from my angle, a woman in gym clothes walking her dog, pausing at the sight of the impromptu sidewalk standoff.
She and my mom exchanged a few words.
Cassie stood up quickly, trying to look composed.
My dad, ever the gentleman when someone else was watching, even extended a hand toward the dog, trying to smile.
The neighbor didn’t linger.
She just nodded and walked on.
But 30 seconds later, Cassie was texting again.
“Everyone here thinks we’re crazy. Just let us in already.”
And then, “You’re being cruel, Eli. Seriously, who does this to their family?”
I stared at the screen for a while, then opened a note on my phone.
Not to reply, just to jot something down.
A thought that hit me so clearly.
I didn’t want to lose it.
They don’t think you’re a person.
They think you’re a service they forgot to tip.
I sat with that for a while.
Then, I opened my banking app, scrolled through the last dozen charges, and took note of the remaining auto payments still quietly draining from my account on their behalf.