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THE FOUNDATION OF BREAD / Chapter 5 / 15

Chapter 5: The Winter Reckoning

The morning after the Christmas gathering brought an Arctic front that dropped the temperature to ten below zero, covering the Berkshire hills in a thick sheet of blue ice.

By noon, the luxury sedan Harper drove had been loaded with four designer suitcases.

She stood in the snowy driveway, her breath misting furiously in the freezing air, waiting for the private tow service to unlock the gate that had frozen shut in the blizzard.

Greg walked out of the farmhouse wearing his father’s old sheepskin shearling jacket and heavy insulated boots. He carried no luggage, only a small canvas duffel bag containing his work clothes and his original carpentry apprenticeships manuals.

Harper looked at him through the rolled-down window of the heated car. ""Get in, Greg. My father’s attorneys are filing an emergency injunction against her in the district court tomorrow morning. We are going to tie that old woman up in litigation until she freezes in that antique barn.""

Greg stood in the snow, looking at the woman he had spent seven years trying to appease.

He saw no partner in her eyes. He saw only an endless, bottomless pit of demands that had consumed his inheritance, his self-respect, and his integrity.

""I’m not getting in, Harper,"" Greg said quietly, his voice steady against the howling winter wind.

Harper stared at him in disbelief. ""What did you just say?""

""I’m staying,"" Greg replied, pulling his leather gloves on. ""The lawsuit will fail because the deed is airtight. But even if it weren't, I am done living in a house made of cards. You take the car. You take the accounts in Hartford. I am staying to fix the roof my father built.""

""You're a fool, Greg!"" Harper screamed, rolling up the window as the gate finally creaked open. ""You'll die a broke carpenter in the woods!""

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Greg didn't answer. He turned his back on the luxury car as it skidded down the icy driveway, and walked toward the barn where his father’s old cast-iron woodstove was already puffing thin white smoke into the grey winter sky.

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