Divorced And Rich: Falling For The Mechanic

The kitchen smelled like fresh basil and expensive beef. Adeline stood at the counter, slicing organic tomatoes with a precision that bordered on aggressive. The knife hit the cutting board with a rhythmic thwack. Thwack. Thwack. She had driven forty minutes to the specialty market this morning. She needed the normalcy of cooking, the control over ingredients that she didn't have over her own life. Footsteps shuffled behind her. Fronia Frost waddled in, her floral housecoat stained with coffee from yesterday. She stopped dead when she saw the groceries spread across the marble counter. "What is this?" Fronia picked up the clear container of grass-fed ground beef, her lips curling. "And this?" She grabbed the box of organic blueberries, turning them over to read the sticker. Her eyes bulged. "Ten dollars for a handful of berries?" Fronia's voice went shrill. "Are you trying to bankrupt this family?" Cletus slouched in behind her, scratching his belly. He was still wearing the same clothes from last night. He headed straight for the fridge, ignoring the tension. Adeline kept slicing. "It's my money, Fronia. And eating real food instead of processed garbage might do this family some good." Fronia's face flushed red. "Your money? You are married to my son. Your money is his money. You live under his roof. You don't get to come in here and act like you're better than us." Cletus cracked open a beer-breakfast of champions. "Yeah, Adeline. My brother works hard. You shouldn't be throwing his cash away on fancy rabbit food." Fronia reached out, her chubby fingers grabbing for the knife in Adeline's hand. "Put that away. You're not cooking this overpriced nonsense. Take it back. We'll have cereal." Adeline twisted her wrist, moving the blade out of Fronia's reach. She didn't look up. She just kept cutting. That did it. Fronia snatched the container of blueberries. "I said take it back!" She marched to the trash can and dumped them in. Then the tomatoes. Then the beef. The heavy slab of red meat hit the bottom of the plastic bin with a wet slap. "Stop," Adeline said, her voice low. "I'll stop when you learn some respect!" Fronia grabbed the bag of organic spinach and shoved it into the trash, crushing it down with her hands. "Waste! All of it, waste!" Cletus leaned against the fridge, drinking his beer, watching the show with a lazy grin. Adeline stopped. She set the knife down on the counter. The metal clink was loud in the sudden quiet. She turned around slowly. Her face was blank. But her eyes were like ice over a deep, dark lake. She walked past Fronia. She walked past the island. She went to the small writing desk in the corner of the kitchen. She opened the top drawer and pulled out the heavy brass letter opener. It was shaped like a dagger, long and sharp. Fronia froze, her hands still in the trash can. Cletus stopped mid-swig. Adeline walked back to the counter. She dragged the tip of the letter opener across the marble surface. It made a thin, screeching scratch. "In this state, breaking into my private study and willfully destroying my property is a crime, Fronia," Adeline said, her voice calm, almost monotone. "Especially when the damage is this expensive. I wonder what Sheriff Stark would call it? Trespassing? Vandalism?" Fronia blinked. "What?" "The groceries you just destroyed cost three hundred and forty-seven dollars and fifty cents." Adeline tapped the letter opener against her palm. "That's a crime, Fronia." She turned her head to look at Cletus. "And you. Last night. Unauthorized entry into my study. Destruction of an eighty-dollar rug and a fifty-dollar cigar. Same statute." Cletus's grin vanished. He set the beer down. Adeline pointed the tip of the letter opener at the trash can. "Pick them up. Put them back." Fronia sputtered, her face twisting between anger and confusion. "You... you're threatening me? In my own house?" "I'm not threatening you." Adeline's voice didn't waver. "I'm stating facts. Legal facts. You can pick up my property, or I can call Sheriff Stark and let him decide whether to write you a ticket or put you in cuffs." The name hung in the air like a gunshot. Graves Stark. The County Sheriff. The man who had known her parents since before she was born. The man who treated her like a niece. Fronia's face went pale. She knew about the connection. Everyone in town did. But she had always assumed Adeline was too weak, too broken to use it. "You wouldn't," Fronia whispered, but her voice lacked conviction. "Try me," Adeline said. She didn't blink. She didn't breathe hard. She just stood there, holding that brass dagger like she knew exactly how to use it. Silence stretched. The refrigerator hummed. Fronia looked at the letter opener. Then she looked at Cletus. Cletus looked at the floor. Slowly, with the dignity of a deflated balloon, Fronia bent over the trash can. She reached in, her hands trembling with rage, and pulled out the squashed container of blueberries. She set them on the counter with a wet thud. Cletus moved quickly, fishing out the beef and the tomatoes, not meeting Adeline's eyes. Adeline watched them. She felt no triumph. She felt only a deep, exhausting disgust. She placed the letter opener back in the drawer. "Get out of my kitchen," she said. They left. Fronia slammed the door on her way out. Adeline looked at the salvaged food, covered in coffee grounds and grease. It was ruined. Just like everything else they touched. She picked up her phone. She didn't call Stark. She called a different number. A law firm in the city. It was time to stop playing defense.