I smell the light floral of her perfume, notice a simple wedding band on her left hand.
“Do you know what my father left me in death?”
I shake my head. She planned this, obviously. It’s not hard to predict what she’s going to say.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“The apartment—” I start.
“Isyours.” She stares at me hard.
“What? No.”
Uncle Ivan didn’t have much. His savings had dwindled to almost nothing. We knew that because we helped him pay his bills, even as we struggled to meet our own. Toward the endwewere buying his groceries, helping to cover the building’s exorbitant maintenance fee, even though he’d paid off the apartment long ago. Luckily, Ivan served in the military before his career as a photographer, so he had decent health insurance, and all those bills were covered. Dana, his angry daughter, contributed nothing toward the end, even after repeated calls from Chad, asking for her help.
“I came in for the reading of the will. I expected that he’d leave the apartment to me since I’m his only living child. It was the very least he could do, but it seems he left it to you and your husband jointly, that hevery recentlychanged his wishes.”
This is not possible. Ivan told me himself that he wanted it to go to Dana.
I’m about to say so when the door downstairs squeals open, then clangs shut. There are footfalls on the stairs. The gait is brisk and sure. It must be Chad.
Twelve minutes.
“I don’t know what to say, Dana.”
She takes a step forward, and I retreat, her energy pushing me back. “How about you say that you’ll sign the apartment over tome? That would be the right thing to do.”
“Dana?”
We both turn to see Chad jog up the final flight.
He’s golden, with a thick mane of straw-colored curls, faceted hazel eyes. He’s broad in the shoulders, fit and lean through the body. He has a strong jaw, just the smattering of stubble, stylishly left behind. My husband—he’s a movie star. He just hasn’t been discovered yet. Still, most women swoon in his presence. Even I do—his wife who knows all his faults and foibles.
Dana glares at him, puts a hand to her throat.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. There’s that little notch between his eyebrows that he gets when he’s angry or worried.
She takes a step back to let him walk by.
“I was just leaving,” she says. “And you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
“Don’t do this, Dana,” he says, sounding weary. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
Chad is clutching a big manila envelope. I’m starting to connect the dots.
“Like youdidn’t know,” she says, seething. “Like you didn’t plan thisall along.”
“And wherewereyou?” he asks, angry now. “When Ivan wasdying?”
She shakes her head, jaw tensed, looking back and forth between me and Chad. Her eyes fill with tears, hands shaking.
“Do you have any idea who you married?” she hisses at me. “Run while you still can, Rosie.” So much sadness, rage. I take another step back, wrap my arms around my middle.
With that, she turns and heads toward the stairs. “Trust me, this isn’t over,” she calls back.
“Dana,” Chad says as she storms away, her heels tapping a staccato beat. He walks to the banister and yells down, “Dana, let’s talk about this.”
But we hear the clang of the door downstairs carry up. She’s gone. We both stand a moment, stunned. Finally, he drops an arm around me and ushers me inside the apartment.