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“There’s more?” Portia asked.
“Are you employed?” I shot back.
“Dear God,” Lou moaned when Portia’s expression again gave us the answer.
“You know what that means,” I noted.
“I also know you two can talk to the trustees,” Portia returned.
“What does it mean?” Daniel asked.
“We can’t and you know it,” I said to my sister. “You also know you’re supposed to report to them, Portia, if there’s a change in your employment status.”
“I’m taking a break.”
“Fine. Your life. Your choice. But you know if you do, your stipend reduces.”
“It does?” Daniel looked down to Portia. “To what?”
“It’s preposterous,” Portia snipped, to him, to me, to the universe.
“It’s what Dad wanted.”
“You and Lou could do something.”
“We can’t.”
“You haven’t tried.”
“And should we now?” Lou demanded irately. “When you’re putting your sister in a dead woman’s bed and fucking with her mind? Is it now we should step up for you, Portia?”
“What’s the matter with you?” Portia asked snidely to hide her shock and dismay that Lou was growing a backbone when it came to her.
“I’m tired,” Lou retorted. “My head hurts. I’ve been trying to prove how much you mean to me for nearly fifteen years, and I, too, am done.” She stood and turned to me. “I’ll call the trustees.”
“I can do it,” I replied.
“No.” She glanced at Portia. “This time, I’ll do it.”
And without another word, she stormed out.
“How much does your allowance reduce?” Daniel asked.
Portia glared at him.
“She gets two thousand pounds a month until she’s gainfully employed and then it’s up to Lou and me how much we’ll augment that,” I shared.
Portia turned her glare on me.
But now it was Daniel who was white as a sheet.
Telling.
And sadly for Portia, her tricks opened the door for me to test the waters of her and Daniel’s relationship to see how deep they ran.
But now…
Onward!
