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“What is it?”
“Hello, to you, too,” my sister greets me.
“Come on, Tessie, you can’t send apocalyptic messages, bringers of doom, and expect pleasantries.”
“Okay, but please sit down.”
I do. “I am sitting.”
“I know where Johnny lives.”
“Where?”
“He bought his old house back.”
My heart drops in my chest. “You mean he’s moved in next door to Mom and Dad’s?”
“Yep.”
The thought of him in that house, staring out the windows at my childhood bedroom, crushes me. Unbidden, the flashback of a boy appearing at my window and sneaking into my room to spend the night spooning pops into my head. My mouth turns cotton dry.
I shake my head. “Sorry, but I’m canceling Thanksgiving and Christmas, forever.”
“Mari, come on.”
“No, no. I won’t go to see Mom and Dad with him living next door. Unless they can dig a tunnel under the house for me to come and go unnoticed, I’ll skip.”
“You’re being irrational.”
“I’m being irrational? What about Mom and Dad’s cloak-and-dagger act? Why didn’t they tell me Dr. Evil has moved in next to them?”
“Probably because in the past sixteen years, you’ve bitten the head off of anyone who mentioned his name even in passing.”
“That’s no excuse. They should’ve made a judgment call.” I bang a fist on my desk. “Someone should’ve warned me.”
“All right, forewarning or not, the facts don’t change. You asked me to find out where he lives, and now you know.”
“I wish I didn’t.” I sigh. “Thank you, though.”
We hang up, and I swivel my chair, staring out the windows of the high-rise converted factory building where the headquarters of WeTrade are based. Across the East River, the Manhattan skyline stretches to infinity, but my eyes trick me into seeing the sun bouncing off a metal ring hoop.
Before John and I started dating, he and his best friend used to play basketball in the backyard while I spied on them from my reading nook. Pretending I was taken up with a book, I’d keep my window open to get a better view of the boys when they ran next door. Hear their voices. Hear his laugh.
Now he’s bought that house back. He’s living there again.
I draw in a deep breath. I need to figure out how to navigate the city without another disastrous encounter. Every familiar place has suddenly turned into a potential minefield. The clinic. My childhood home. My neighborhood.
I don’t live in Bay Ridge anymore, but Brooklyn is a small world. From now on, every shop, bar, and café will pose a threat of running into him.
I must’ve made a sound of distress because my secretary Edna, who’s been with me since we got our first serious investor money and moved out of the basement, waddles in.
“Is everything all right?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Yes.”
She blinks at me. “You’re shaking your head.”
I make a conscious effort to stand still and wave her off, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”
