AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It was your father’s.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. That antique? Does it even work anymore?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” In truth, she has no idea whether the old handgun works or not. “At any rate, I’m not selling this house, so…”
“The market is hot right now. We could get a good price….”
“We?”
“You could move to an apartment, be surrounded by people your own age….”
“I don’t want to be surrounded by people my own age.”
“I could invest the money for you. You could live very well….”
“I already live very well.”
“Will you at least agree to have a look at Manor Born?”
“Manor Born?Manor Born?You want to put me in a home?”
“It’s not a home. It’s a first-class assisted living community.”
“You can call it whatever the hell you like. I’m not moving there.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” Norman tells his mother.
“You’re being an ass,” Julia tells her son.
“He’s just trying to look out for you,” Poppy chimes in.
“How sweet.” Julia pushes out of her chair and marches toward the front door with as much speed as she can muster. “Thanks for stopping by, darling. I know how busy you are.” She opens the door just as the young couple who recently moved in next door are pulling their blue Hyundai out of their garage.
“Nice wheels!” the young man says, stopping in the driveway to admire the silver Tesla. “You just buy it?”
Julia laughs, flattered he could even think such a thing. “It’s not mine,” she says, as Norman and Poppy join her in the doorway.
“Nice wheels,” the young man says again, this time to Norman.
Julia can’t remember the man’s name, but thinks it’s one of those new, modern ones. He waves goodbye as he backs onto the street. His wife—Julia can’t remember her name either, but thinks it’s a surprisingly old-fashioned one—also waves.
“Will you at least consider what I’ve said?” Norman asks his mother.
“I will not,” Julia says.
“He’s just looking out for you,” Poppy says, as she said earlier. She follows her husband to their car, stepping back as the doors lift into the air.
Like a giant insect about to take flight,Julia thinks. Way too intimidating. She much prefers the unfussy Chevrolet her husband bought the year before he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She looks across the street to the home of Dr. Nick Wilson, grateful as she always is for the wonderful care he gave her husband in the months before his death. Can almost two years have passed since then? She swallows a deep breath of warm, humid air, then goes back inside the house, shutting the door before the Tesla is fully out of the driveway.
“They gone?” a voice asks from the top of the stairs.
“They are.” Julia watches her grandson descend the steps, the long, skinny legs appearing first, followed by the long, skinny torso, then the long, thin face, framed by the long brown hair that falls to his bony shoulders in uncombed waves. “You’re going to have to call them, you know.”
“I know. I will. Thanks for not giving me away. And for defending my good name, even though…”
“You took the money?”
“I did,” Mark admits, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a stale store-bought muffin from the counter. “I mean, she left her wallet just sitting there on the counter, like it was some kind of test.”
