Chapter 20: One Card at Christmas

On Monday morning the doorbell rang at Nan's house at ten past eight.

I was at the kitchen table in a robe, trying to eat toast.

I could smell coffee and could not drink it.

Miles had texted at six: the landlord had confirmed in writing that the lease guarantee on Trenton's office was gone.

Trenton had thirty days to move out.

I read it twice and put the phone face down beside the toast.

Nan went to the door with her cane before I could stand.

I heard the chain slide, and a long pause.

Then Nan's voice, perfectly level: "Well. This is new."

I came to the hall.

Trenton's mother stood on the front step in a navy raincoat and flat shoes.

She had no camera with her, no cream suit and no lipstick.

She looked ten years older than she had on Saturday.

She held a large envelope in both hands.

"I won't come in," she said. "I only wanted to give you this and say something."

"You can say it in the kitchen," said Nan. "It's cold, and I'm not an animal."

She hesitated, then came in and stood on the mat with her shoes together.

Nan took her coat and hung it up.

I noticed her hands as she handed it over.

They were shaking.

In the kitchen she did not sit until Nan pointed at the chair.

She put the envelope on the table, and slid it across to me.

"It's eighteen thousand dollars," she said. "A cashier's check. Trenton used your card for the ballroom."

"I know."

"It was my savings. It isn't the same as the other money." Her mouth trembled. "But I'd like it to be paid by someone in my family."

I did not touch it.

Nan poured three cups of tea and set one in front of her without a word.

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