The Hungry House (28 page)

Epilogue

              After a few MONTHS, the gruesome images of Frank's final minutes on earth began to recede from MY mind. I kept busy with her the staffing agency, food bank funding, and my family. Paul expressed profound relief about Frank’s sudden demise. Alex began intensive therapy. He’s coming along nicely. Then came another surprise. In his will, Frank had left everything to me. Sudden, I was a very wealthy woman, but I only needed a small fraction of it to live. The remainder of his fortune would ensure that my foundation and food bank work could continue to thrive. It gave some sort of a meaning to Frank's self-centered life.

             
Margaret married Tim in Hawaii, and they returned to his home in Los Angeles, though they were hardly ever there. Tim now had someone with whom to travel. They often stopped by Portland to visit for a day or two. John and I continued to be a good family friend and Paul’s colleague and collaborator.

             
One day, on impulse, I decided to stop by Frank's old mansion. A sign in front said Portland Gardens. I drove in through the open gates and parked in the new lot. I strolled around the property under the sanctuary of a cloudless sky. Never had the grounds looked lovelier. The flowers and shrubs were in full bloom, and people contentedly walked along the winding stone paths or sat on one of the trellis-covered wooden benches. Behind the mansion, the swimming pool had been replaced by a fountain surrounded with umbrella-covered tables with chairs. The caretaker and his wife lived in the guest cottage. Through the back window, I saw a community group meeting in the dining room.

             
While driving home, I reflected that I was no longer the frightened young girl who had first passed through the gates. My mother was gone, but I always felt her presence very near to me. I had a new family and meaningful work. Frank was gone, and with his death, a blessing for the city had replaced the curse of the place.

The End