Gifts and Consequences (18 page)

He pulled into Jonathan’s driveway and Jonathan came out a minute later.

“Good morning, Marcus,” Jonathan said as Marcus handed him the file.

Marcus put the car in gear and started heading out the driveway.

“Jim Talbot?” Jonathan read on the outside of the file.  “He’s in real estate, right?”

“Yeah,” answered Marcus.  “The same Talbot.”

Jonathan didn’t ask any more questions until he had read the file. 

“I’ll be making contact on this one, of course.  He’d recognize you.” said Marcus.

Jonathan nodded.  “You got the wire?”

“Yeah.  Receiver’s in the glove box.”

“Too bad Talbot’s in financial trouble.  I liked dealing with him,” Jonathan said without any emotion. 

Marcus was tempted to ask why Jonathan couldn’t just give him a hand without putting him through the ringer, but what was the point?  They’d had the discussion already. 

They talked about minor details of the deal until arriving at the Terrace Estate Apartments.  Marcus pulled into one of the
Prospective Tenants
spots
and reached into his shirt to activate the wire.  Jonathan opened the glove compartment and placed the Bluetooth receiver into his ear. 

“Cheryl?  You online?” he asked.

“Right here, Sir,” she answered in an upbeat voice.

Jonathan put a receiver in his ear and gave Marcus a nod.

Marcus walked up to the office, dressed plainly in blue jeans, and a Polo shirt. 

A door alarm made a brief high-pitched squeal when Marcus opened the door.  He didn’t have to duck to make it through the doorway, but he always did by way of habit.  At 6’8” he had learned to keep his head down at an early age.

A middle-aged man with a prematurely white head of hair walked into the lobby.  “Can I help you,” he asked in a not at all helpful tone.

“Mr. Talbot?” asked Marcus.

“That’s right.”  Jim Talbot’s head was slightly raised in a mistrustful way.  “But we don’t have any open apartments right now.” 

“I’m not looking for an apartment, Mr. Talbot.  I understand you recently had an unfortunate situation regarding your remodels.”

Jim Talbot eyed him even more suspiciously.  “What do you know about my remodel, Boy?”

The old Marcus would have left him lying in his own blood.  The new Marcus had to restrain himself from turning around and walking out.  “What do I know?  I know you spent everything you had on the down payment for this complex.”  Marcus forced himself to speak in an even tone and not give away any of his irritation.  “You mortgaged your other rentals, then borrowed to remodel these units.  Now you learn the drywall your subcontractor bought from a bargain dealer contains asbestos.  The grandfather clause that protects older asbestos-containing buildings doesn’t apply to you.  The Sub folded and the manufacturer in Asia is not about to pay damages.  Your choices are either remodel or have the entire complex condemned.”

“How the hell do you know that?  Is this some sort of threat?”  Jim Talbot stepped forward and stared up into Marcus’s face.  Marcus could tell the man was desperate.  No one had confronted him like this in years.

Marcus continued in a measured, unemotional tone.  He pictured Jonathan in his place.  “Yesterday you said you would convert half your units to free low income housing if there was a way out of this mess.  I’d like to take you up on that offer.”

“How the…?”  He looked Marcus up and down then leaned around him to look outside at the parking lot.  He couldn’t see Jonathan through the tinted windows.  “I don’t know what kind of deal you’re trying to pull, but I’m not going to let you and a hundred of your cousins take over my complex.  You take your drug labs and crack dealing back where they belong.”

Forcing his teeth to unclench, Marcus said, “Mr. Talbot, I’m offering to pay the full cost of your remodel if you provide a single unit for free to a tenant of my choice.  Rent free and indefinitely.”

“I said take your ghetto and leave before I call the cops.” 

Marcus smiled for the first time since walking into the office.  “Gladly,” he said and walked out.  He was still smiling as he climbed into the SUV.

“Who knew he was a racist bastard?” said Jonathan.  “I always thought he was solid.  A real up and comer.”

“If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought that was a set up.  A test to see if I’d resist pounding him.”

“I have no reason to test you, Marcus.  And I didn’t doubt your self-restraint for a second.”

“Yeah, well that makes one of us,” said Marcus.

July 9, 2011 – A Friend

So I have a friend.  We’ve even been on a few dates.

The day after the Nirvana concert, Charlie asked me where I eat lunch ( I already wrote about that ).  But the day after that he came and found me in the grassy spot behind the stairs.  From then until graduation he ate with me once or twice a week.

Chase wrote a nasty word on the one-eyed-cat with a Sharpie.  I brought some rubbing alcohol the next day and cleaned most of it off.  After school I carried the cat home and put some food on my porch.  Not in a dish or anything.  I’m not allowed to have pets and I didn’t want to get kicked out, but the cat has stayed around since then.  It’s not as skinny and mangy as it was when I first saw it at school.  I named him Oliver.

The next day I had to stay after to ask Mrs. Ilapi a question after class.  When I was done talking to her, I saw a wallet under one of the chairs.  It was Chase’s.  I wanted to spend his money on cat treats to get even then throw away his ID and picture.  But I remembered the priest in
Les Miserables
who gives Jean Valjean the silver candlesticks even after he stole from him.  I just turned Chase’s wallet in at the front office.

But back to Charlie.  A couple weeks after the first date he asked me out again.  We went to see Water for Elephants (it wasn’t as good as the book, of course) and had dinner at Applebee’s.  The movie was better than dinner because I didn’t have to talk, but I still had a lot of fun on the date.  The next week we had a picnic at a park and rode paddleboats.

Charlie invited me to the after-graduation party, but I’d rather volunteer for the Hunger Games than go to that.

Since graduation we’ve gone out to lunch once and went for a walk at the park.  Charlie even invited me to his house.  I turned him down twice, but he kept asking so I went.

His house was really nice, so was his family.   

Every time Charlie invites me I expect it to be the last.  It’s a lot easier to talk to him than it was before.  It’s easier to talk to him than anyone ever, but I still have a hard time looking him in the eyes.  My eyes look away all by themselves.

Except for Edward Cullen, boys always lose interest in girls that don’t…satisfy their needs.  Physically.  But Charlie can’t be interested in that from me.  I don’t look anything like the girls on TV or even the girls at school.  I’m too skinny.  Except for my thighs when I sit down.

Whatever it is Charlie likes, I hope he doesn’t stop.  But something will go wrong.  I know it. 

I’ll find out later tonight.  I finally invited him over here.  It was while we were at the park today.  I kept trying to invite him, but when I opened my mouth I kept sticking food in before I could get the words out.

When he drove me home he said “See ya later.”

I couldn’t look at him but I asked if he wanted to come in sometime.  He said “Sure, how about after work?”

“Today?” I asked.

He nodded, then I nodded and hurried inside and started crying because I was so nervous.

I got control of myself and dried my face and started cleaning even though the apartment wasn’t very messy.  My stomach felt sick all day and I wondered if throwing up would be a good idea.  Then I could call Charlie and cancel.

But I didn’t throw up and he’ll be here in half an hour.  I hope he likes the deodorizer I bought.  It’s Orange Spice.  It seemed like the most manly flavor they had.

Lisa saved the file and shut down the computer.  Time crawled as she waited, peeking out the window at any sound in the parking lot.  When his tires rolled into the gravel outside she recognized the sound of his car and met him at the door.

Charlie greeted her and she forced herself to open the door and allow him in.  The minimal furniture was from secondhand stores, and she blushed as she imagined the apartment through his eyes.  Charlie didn’t live in a mansion, but it seemed like it to Lisa.

Family pictures, vases with flowers, and fancy bookshelves lined the walls at Charlie’s house.  Until this morning the only decoration on Lisa’s walls was a sketch of a fairy she did in art class the previous semester.  It was now in the drawer beside the silverware drawer.

“It smells good in here,” said Charlie, upbeat as usual. 

“Thanks.” 
I wonder if it’s too strong.

“Are your parents at work?” he asked, wiping his glasses on his t-shirt. 

Until now she had diverted any queries about her home life, but there was no way to avoid it now.  She kept her back to him, getting a couple glasses of ice water.

“No,” she answered, and gulped.  “I live here alone.” 
Please don’t ask anything else about my parents
.

“How do you pay for it?”

She thought about it for a minute.  “I have money in the bank.”

“But you don’t have a job.  Where does the money come from?”

Unsure how to answer, Lisa walked into the small living room and sat on the far end of the couch, taking the sagging spot so Charlie wouldn’t find it.

Charlie finally picked up on her reluctance and said, “Sorry, too personal.  But where are your parents?”

Lisa’s face was burning again and she feared the tears would soon start flowing.  Without meeting his eyes she mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared into the hallway. 

Over the previous months she’d learned to talk to him and actually enjoy it, but her family life had never come up.  If she told him how screwed up her life really was he’d probably run from the apartment and never talk to her again.  But at least she wouldn’t have to worry about him walking away any more.  While Charlie never criticized her, she was sure he thought all sorts of bad things about her.  The stress was too much; she had to get it over with.

After a minute to compose herself, she went back in and took her seat on the couch.  Looking at her lap, she told Charlie, “My mom died when I was little.  My stepdad left last year.”

Charlie stayed silent.  Lisa didn’t know if he was turned off or just respecting her privacy.  She didn’t look up to find out.  “When my mom died she had a small life insurance policy.  It went into a trust.  Money goes into a bank account every month.”

Telling Charlie was easier than she expected.  “Also, when she died I became a ward of the state.  Until I turned eighteen they deposited money into the account.”

She went silent, looking at the back of her hands, but not seeing them.  She felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched reflexively, but did not pull away.  Charlie sat next to her.

“That is so cool!”

She stared, wondering if he was making fun of her.

“I mean, not about your mom dying and stuff.  But you take care of your own finances, and live on your own.  That totally rocks.”

How am I supposed to respond to that?

It turned out she didn’t have to.  “Where did your stepdad go?” he asked.

Lisa didn’t answer and Charlie rubbed her back lightly.  “I…don’t know,” she finally said.  “He was gone one day, but he didn’t take his ATM card.  I just get the money I need out of the account.”

She waited for him to ask why she didn’t look for Buck or report him missing.  That would be the final straw for sure.  What kind of a monster doesn’t go looking for a parent who disappeared?  Even a stepparent.  But he didn’t ask about Buck.  Charlie was still rubbing her shoulder and her nervousness was compounded by the fear that he probably wanted to have sex.  With her. 

When she didn’t explain any further, Charlie asked, “Why don’t you put it in your own account?”

She started to stand but Charlie moved his hand to her shoulder and gently urged her to stay on the couch with him.  Lisa hesitated, but sat back down and used her sleeve to dab her eyes.

It was a mistake to invite him over.  Going out in public or over to his house was one thing, but inviting Charlie into her own apartment was too personal.  The room got hot and Lisa’s breathing grew more rapid.