Separated Rooms for Three Years, He Panicked After I Moved Out novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Allowance

Margot arrives warm and practical with a car, a key and an allowance, and mentions that Nina's father's care is billed through her office; then the rehab center calls to say the payment is overdue.

Margot found me at eleven that morning, at the corner table of the coffee shop under Bea's building.

I had a laptop open and a cold coffee beside it.

I was reading a supplier's price list for the third time.

She came in wearing her camel coat and her pearl earrings, and every head in the room turned a little.

"May I?" she said, and sat down before I answered.

"Elliot promised me nobody would be sent."

"Nobody was sent, dear. I came on my own." She folded her gloves. "He would be furious. He has no idea I'm here."

The driver's car was parked outside at a hydrant with its flashers on.

Margot saw me notice and smiled.

"He insisted on waiting. I couldn't stop him."

A waiter set a pot of tea in front of her that she had not ordered.

She thanked him by name, and he went away looking pleased.

"I won't ask you to come back," she said. "I only want to make this easier. Where are you sleeping?"

"On Bea's sofa."

"Oh, Nina."

"It's a good sofa."

"It is a sofa." She poured herself tea. "I've had the guest apartment on Spruce Street aired out. Two bedrooms. The key is with the driver. It would make me feel much better."

"No."

"Then the allowance, at least. It continues, of course, as long as you are a Rainer."

"I don't want it."

"You don't have to want it. It's a matter of keeping things orderly." She stirred slowly. "These situations get so untidy. I've seen it with friends. One person leaves in the middle of the night and suddenly there are lawyers and accounts and everyone is cross."

I shut the laptop.

"I'm not here to cause trouble, Margot. I just can't live in that house another night."

"I understand. Truly I do." She laid a warm hand over mine. "I told you the first year that Elliot was difficult. I told you it wasn't you."

"You did."

"And I meant it. I only wish he'd listened to me."

I looked at her hand.

It was soft, with a thin gold band and clear polish, and it had patted my wrist at a hundred dinners.

I had never once thought to ask what exactly she had told him.

"What did you say to him?" I asked.

Her face didn't change, but she took a moment before she answered.

"Oh, the usual. That a marriage needs patience. That a young woman in a new house needs kindness." She smiled. "He has never been easy about being kind. His father was the same."

It was a good answer.

It was smooth, and it answered nothing.

"Margot," I said, "the allowance, the car, the apartment. I'm not taking any of it."

"I see."

"I want to be clear that I'm not trying to hurt anyone."

"Of course not." She finished her tea. "Only you'll want to think about your father. Just so there are no surprises."

The room seemed to go a little quiet.

"What about my father?"

"His program is billed through my office. It always has been. It keeps everything simple, so he never has to see an invoice." She looked at me gently, with her head tipped. "I'd hate for a change of address to confuse the paperwork. People get so frightened by paperwork."

"Are you telling me you'd stop paying for it?"

"Heavens, no." She sounded hurt. "I'm saying I'd hate to see anyone get frightened. That's all."

She picked up her gloves and patted my hand again and stood.

"Think about the apartment. Spruce Street. The key is with the driver."

I watched her walk out through the room, and watched the driver open the car door for her.

My hands were not quite steady, and I put them under the table.

For three years I had thanked Elliot for my father's care, and I had been grateful to Margot for helping Elliot not to make a fuss.

Now I sat there and did the arithmetic of it.

I did not know how much it cost.

I had never been shown a bill, not one.

I opened my banking app and looked at my account.

It held nine thousand dollars from my part-time buying work.

There was also a savings plan Elliot had set up for me, which I had never touched.

I closed the savings tab.

Then I opened a blank note and typed: Pay it all.

If my father's care was a debt, then it was mine.

I wanted the exact total, and I wanted to hand it back myself.

Then I would owe that family nothing, and I could leave with my head up.

My phone rang before I had finished the thought.

It was a number I didn't know, with a Pennsylvania area code.

"Hello, is this Nina Cheston? This is the billing office at the cardiac rehabilitation center. I'm calling about your father's account."

"Yes, I'm his daughter."

"Ma'am, we're showing the payment for the next quarter hasn't been received. It was due yesterday."

I sat very still.

"Yesterday," I said. "That's the day I left."

"I couldn't say, ma'am. I only see that it's overdue. Our policy is to pause services after fourteen days."

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