Chapter 14 - The Thirty-Day Clock
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I stepped out of my car and walked up the concrete path. Denise and Melissa stepped out of their sedan right behind me, watching the scene unfold.
"Need some help?" I called out cheerfully.
My father glared at me through the gap in the doorway.
"Ian! Stop standing there and grab the frame!"
"I can't do that, Dad," I replied, crossing my arms.
"That chair is legally classified as real estate property under Denise's contract. Assisting you would be theft."
Denise stepped forward, raising a hand politely.
"To be completely honest, I don't even like the chair. It smells like old dust."
"Great!" Tessa shouted, giving the wooden armrest a violent yank.
"Then I'm taking it!"
"However," Denise continued, a clever smile appearing on her face, "after everything I've witnessed, I feel a strong personal responsibility to keep it here."
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
My father dug his sneakers into the hardwood floor inside and gave one final, desperate push.
The chair moved forward about four inches.
Then, the heavy metal lever on the side of the recliner caught sharply against the metal door striker.
With a loud BANG, the spring-loaded footrest snapped open with full kinetic force.
The sudden force launched my father backward into the hallway, where he landed squarely on a pile of throw pillows.
The recoil pulled the top of the chair forward, sending Tessa flying backward off the porch steps.
She tumbled onto the damp lawn, landing on her back in the grass.
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The burgundy recliner remained wedged perfectly upright in the doorway, its footrest sticking straight out like a bridge.
It looked like a permanent monument blocking the entrance.
