Chapter 43 #2
My stomach dropped. I sensed there was a problem here.
“It’s not due until the 13th …” I called after her but she was walking toward Mr. Allison’s office.
He had somebody in there with him. She went to the wall of file cabinets, opened a drawer, walked her fingers across it, and pulled out a folder.
When she came back with it and opened it on her desk, I saw an ominous red stamp on the first page: PENDING CLOSURE.
“What is this? Is this a foreclosure? You can’t—”
She pointed to a series of numbers. “The bank has filed the loan as fulfilled, Miss Calhoun, or it’s about to be.”
My neck turned hot. As in, they’d sent it to the auctioneers already and were feeling very fulfilled that Mrs. Tartt would lose her house? Why didn’t she speak plainly? “But they said we had until Friday, October 13, to pay it, the 13th, now what’s the amount—”
She pointed at the file. “Mrs. Tartt owes one dollar,” she said. “Due October 13.”
“What—no. What happened to the … the rest she owes?”
“It’s been dismissed. I called Mrs. Tartt’s house three weeks ago to let her know, but the telephone’d been disconnected. And then we heard she’d gone out of town, so I sent her a letter. Two, actually. Nobody’s been checking her mail?”
“I did, but—” I hadn’t opened those stupid bank letters. I knew they’d just say the same damn thing they always did, you’re late. “I don’t understand. Did somebody pay it off? Did Rory pay it off?”
“As I understand it, it was a bank decision. Now would you like me to send Mrs. Tartt another notice, or I can telephone her if she’s somewhere with a—”
“No. She’s … not available. I’ll tell her.
” Standing there with all Mrs. Tartt’s money, I felt a ripple of indignation—we could’ve paid it ourselves.
But then it passed, and I just felt wondrously relieved.
But it didn’t escape me how strange life was.
If I’d opened either of those letters instead of spitting on them, I might’ve insisted we close shop right then.
Mrs. Tartt could have all the money she’d made now, which she’d need.
Especially if they were giving Rory every last cent.
In the end, she’d be in better shape than any of us.
“Excuse me, but whose decision was this?” I asked.
Eleanor paused. “I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am.”
I glanced over at Mr. Allison’s office, then back at her, just to see.
She stared at me, but then like she couldn’t resist, she shook her head.
She glanced all the way to the back to the empty glass office.
Jack’s office. My chest burned. Jack really was one of the nice ones. I guess this was his parting gift.
I should’ve known Pripp’s cousin couldn’t keep a secret. I took a dollar off the stack, about to give it to her. “You’re certain she has until October 13 to pay it?”
She gave me that unsmiling smile, took the notice from the folder, and handed it to me. “I am sure.”
I tucked the dollar back in the paper clip and put the stack of bills back in my purse. Mrs. Tartt should have the satisfaction of paying off the rest of her note when all this was over.
I walked into the house with my packages and all seemed quiet. I’d bought a secondhand radio for a painful fourteen dollars, making sure the volume played LOUD. Just as I pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, Frances gasped. She turned around to me and said, “Maids.”
Picador stood at the sink. I shrugged my apology to her—they gave us no warning—but I should’ve gotten word to them.
“I have so many things for you to wash, Picador, they’re upstairs,” Frances was saying, “and I need you to iron all my clothes. Everything I own’s wrinkled as old prunes—”
“No,” I said. “No, Franny, Picador has plenty to do already for the boarders. You’re gonna have to wash and iron your own clothes.” They needed to get the rest of the sheets clean and put away before Mrs. Tartt got home.
Frances raised an eyebrow. I’d hit a nerve.
“Is that so? Well, I can’t wait to tell Viktoria that you and Charlie, the leech, seem to think her lifelong help’s working for y’all now.”
Before that could happen, Flossy came into the kitchen with Ruby behind her. I knew it had to happen sometime. I just wished it weren’t right now.
“Flossy. Ruby. This is my sister, Frances. That I told you about.”
Frances stared at them. It took a second for her to process it all.
Ruby was wearing her black cotton shift, a long crease of cleavage showing down her front, her dyed red hair sticking out six ways to Sunday.
Flossy looked a little more composed, though I had to assume she was naked under Frances’s pink bathrobe.
“Well, well, we finally meet,” Ruby said, smirking. “Funny, I say your name about ten times a night.” She grabbed a biscuit off the stove and stuck it in her mouth.
“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Frances,” Flossy said. It sounded surprisingly genuine. She kept her lips together like she didn’t want her teeth to show.
Frances, who was already miffed at me, put on one of her larger scary smiles.
“It’s very nice to meet both of you,” she said.
She nodded like she just could not wait for Mrs. Tartt to meet these two tramps and get me in trouble.
I guess if you didn’t know Frances, though, you might mistake the smile for friendly.
“Golly gee,” Flossy said. “Birdie didn’t tell me you was so pretty. People must tell you that all the time, huh.”
“How kind of you to say that,” Frances said, still beaming at her. The smile was sticky sweet. “Now, if you don’t mind my asking, is that my bathrobe you’re wearing?”
“Oh, is it?” Flossy looked down and let out an embarrassed staccato laugh. “I’m sorry, I been wearing it so long I kinda forgot.” She started to take it off and I froze but she had an old short nightgown on under it. She held it out to Frances.
“Oh no, please. Don’t worry about it,” Frances said, backing up.
“You sure? It ain’t dirty or nothing. I could wash it out, be done in a jiffy.”
“Really. You keep it.”
“Oh. Well, thanks a bunch, Fran. Hey, by the way, thanks a lot for letting me use your room. The pink’s real pretty, and I been reading those magazines a yours. Lotsa good tips for us homemakers. I hope one day to have a house nice as the one you and Birdie got here.”
“Oh I bet you do,” Frances said, smiling and nodding to me. She really liked that part about it being Birdie’s house.
“I’m sure it’s been a real big change to come home to all these people, staying in your room, using your things”—No, no, do not mention the dresses—“but I want you to know how much we like this one.” Flossy tilted her head to me.
“You’re lucky. I don’t got a lot a family, and the ones I do, don’t—they don’t really like me.
I wish my own sister was more like Birdie. ”
“She is definitely one of a kind,” Frances said and turned around to the sink, putting her back to Flossy.
Leaning against the counter, Ruby was watching this. She stuck more biscuit in her mouth, crumbs dropping down the front of her chemise.
“Well. I guess I’ll see ya later then,” Flossy said and she walked out with Ruby, who looked slit-eyed and suspicious.
I don’t know why I’d expected more of my sister. When they were gone, I said, “Can you please try to be nice to these women? Flossy’s a very nice person.”
“Was I rude?” Frances asked, batting her eyelashes. Her back still to the door, down went the phony smile. “Why would you let those cheap floozies live here? And did you see those awful teeth?” Frances wrinkled her nose and called out, “Pee-yew! Somebody needs to take the trash out.”
That’s when I saw Flossy’d come back in the kitchen, looking excited like she had one more thing to tell Frances. I could practically hear a soft crumpling of bone, possibly soul. Behind her, Ruby leered at Frances, cleaning her teeth with her tongue.
“Floss,” I whispered, but she waved a hand—it’s nothing. She tugged Ruby back toward the doorway.
Frances, unaware, turned on the tap to fill a glass. “Stay here, Frances. I’ll be right back.”
I went after Flossy and Ruby up the back stairs, into Flossy’s room. I needed to tell Frances now, before Mrs. Tartt got home, but first I gave Flossy a hug. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to her. “She’s not nice sometimes.”
“Please. It’s fine,” Flossy said. “Believe me, I got experience with sisters.”
“You gonna go tell her now?” Ruby asked.
Cold fear trickled down my spine, but I nodded. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell her … but I’m gonna tell her.”
“You lose your nerve, I’ll tell her for you,” Ruby said, licking her thick lips.
“No, y’all just finish getting dressed to meet Mrs. Tartt when she gets home.”
Ruby was changing into a red dress, Flossy was putting on stockings. “What’re you so afraid of anyway?” Ruby asked.
“You don’t know what Frances is like.”
“Oh, I got a pretty good idea,” Ruby said.
Charlie had materialized from somewhere and was listening in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Good luck,” she said. “I sure don’t envy you.”
“Go sit in the dining room, Franny, I’ll bring you some cake,” I told her. I was a nervous wreck. My hands were shaking as I sliced yesterday’s pound cake and spread butter on top the way she liked it. I took my time.
Since Frances had left her dirty breakfast dishes at her usual spot at the table, instead of clearing them, she sat down at the head.
“I know they’re paying rent but it’s just so unpleasant having all these yucky strangers in the house.
” Carefully, I arranged a plate of cake and a glass of milk in front of her and sat down at her right.
As I took a deep breath, I saw Ruby saunter past the doorway in the front sitting room, watching us.