Chương 9
“Then tell Jason.”
“When?”
She looked toward the door where his minivan had disappeared.
“When he comes back.”
That answer sounded real.
Maybe because she looked terrified.
My phone rang again.
Mom.
This time Melissa said, “Answer it.”
I did.
“Emily?”
“I’m here.”
Mom exhaled.
“Where is everyone?”
“Jason took the kids to breakfast.”
“And Melissa?”
“She’s here.”
My mother was quiet.
Then she said, “I’m coming over.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“No, Mom.”
“I need to help.”
“You already helped.”
The silence that followed was different.
Melissa looked at the floor.
Mom said, “That’s not fair.”
“It’s exactly fair.”
“I gave your sister money because she said she needed it.”
“You also told her you could convince me to leave my own condo.”
“I said I would talk to you.”
“Why?”
“Because she needed somewhere to go.”
“She had somewhere.”
“What?”
I looked at Melissa.
She shook her head quickly.
I ignored it.
“They were approved for a townhouse.”
Mom said nothing.
“She canceled it.”
Another silence.
Then my mother asked, very quietly, “Why?”
Melissa closed her eyes.
I looked at her.
“You should probably hear that from her.”
Mom breathed into the phone.
“Put her on.”
I held the phone out.
Melissa did not take it.
“Melissa.”
She looked at me.
“No.”
From the speaker, Mom said, “Sweetheart, please.”
Melissa stood.
“I said no.”
She walked toward the elevator.
I called after her.
“Where are you going?”
She pressed the button.
“To see your condo.”
“No.”
She turned.
“I’m not moving in.”
“That isn’t the only reason I can say no.”
Her face tightened.
“I just want to see it.”
“Why?”
The elevator arrived.
The doors opened.
She looked inside, then back at me.
“Because I’ve never even seen the place I almost blew up my marriage trying to live in.”
She stepped toward the elevator.
Daniel looked up from the concierge desk.
I stood.
“Melissa.”
She stopped.
I walked to the elevator, feeling the incision pull with every step.
Then I reached past her and pressed the button for the fourth floor.
“I’m coming with you.”
She looked surprised.
“I can go alone.”
“No.”
“I’m not going to steal anything.”
“That isn’t why.”
“Then why?”
The doors began to close.
I stepped inside.
“Because it’s my home.”
The elevator doors closed on the lobby, and Melissa leaned against the mirrored wall without looking at me.
For four floors, neither of us spoke.
The elevator smelled faintly like citrus cleaner and somebody’s perfume.
My reflection looked pale enough that I almost resented the lighting for being accurate.
Melissa noticed me pressing one hand over my abdomen.
“You shouldn’t be standing this much.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She looked away.
The doors opened.
The fourth-floor hallway was quiet except for the soft churn of an ice maker somewhere behind a closed door.
I walked slowly toward Unit 407.
Melissa followed two steps behind me.
When I unlocked the door with the new key, she noticed.
“You changed the lock.”
“Yes.”
Her face tightened.
“Because of me?”
“Because Mom handled one of the original keys.”
“She wouldn’t copy it.”
“You called the building and said she owned the condo.”
“That doesn’t mean she copied a key.”
“No.”
I opened the door.
“It means I stopped assuming.”
Melissa entered without answering.
For a few seconds, she simply stood there.
The condo was still mostly unfinished.
A stack of framed prints leaned against the dining room wall.
Two cardboard boxes sat near the kitchen island.
The sectional occupied more space than I had expected when I ordered it, and a folded blanket had slipped halfway onto the floor where I had been sleeping off and on since surgery.
Melissa walked toward the windows.
Lake Washington was visible beyond the buildings, silver under the morning sky.
She put one hand against the glass.
“This is nice.”
I locked the door behind us.
“Yes.”
“How much did you pay?”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Turning this into a financial comparison.”
“I just asked.”
“And I said no.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
“Fine.”
She walked into the kitchen and ran her fingertips across the quartz counter.
For once, she did not open any cabinets.
That restraint looked almost painful.
“The kids would have loved this.”
I felt my shoulders stiffen.
“Don’t.”
“I’m not trying to start something.”
“It sounds like you are.”
“I’m just saying.”
“That’s what people say when they want to say something but don’t want responsibility for it.”
She looked at me.
“You really have gotten meaner.”
“Maybe.”
The answer seemed to surprise her.
I surprised myself too.
Usually I defended the accusation.
Usually I rushed to explain that I was tired or stressed or misunderstood.
That morning, I did not have enough energy to prove I was kind.
Melissa walked down the short hallway.
She paused outside my bedroom but did not enter.
Then she reached the second bedroom.
The door was still open.
She stood in the doorway.
“So this is it.”
“Yes.”
The room looked almost insultingly small in relation to her plan.
There was space for a full bed, maybe a dresser, and not much else.
Six people could not have lived in it.
Six people could barely have stored luggage in it.
Melissa stepped inside.
“Where did you think everyone was going to sleep?”
She looked at me.
“The kids could’ve used the living room.”
“All four?”
“Two in here.”
“And you and Jason?”
She hesitated.
“Your room.”
I stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“You were supposed to be at Mom’s.”
“That does not make my bedroom yours.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
She turned toward the empty wall.
“We were going to bring our bed.”
“You were going to put your bed in my bedroom.”
“Yes.”
“What was supposed to happen to mine?”
“You don’t have one yet.”
I almost laughed.
May you like
My mattress was scheduled for delivery the following week.
The timing had apparently made my ownership more theoretical in Melissa’s mind.
