The man continues, “I can give you comps for homes that sold in the area in the last three months, so you can see.”
Must be a realtor, who probably has no idea what’s going on.
Margaret sounds annoyed. “I know how much those houses went for. I’m not selling mine for below what’s fair.”
“But that property isn’t in the shape that they were in when they sold. Potential sellers are going to balk and negotiate because of that.”
“I hired people to keep the place clean and tidy.”
Lyin
g witch! Becca’s the one paying for those people, not her. And she’s trying to sell the house instead of giving it to Becca on the wedding anniversary. Either Becca misunderstood or Margaret lied. My money’s on the latter.
What the hell is wrong with her? She’s actually worse than my dad. He might have pushed me to go to Harvard, but he isn’t a liar. This woman is manipulating and hurting Becca on purpose, just because she can. She probably kicks puppies for shits and giggles.
For the first time in my life, I get a sudden impulse to strangle an old woman.
After you get the house…
She puts the empty glass down on a small table, then spots me. I wave with an innocent smile, then hold up the Tupperware.
She waves back. “Gotta go, Bobby. I have a visitor.”
“Sure thing. Chat with you later. But think about what I said?”
“I will.” She hangs up and waves me over. Her eyes are searching, like she’s trying to discern how much I heard. Does she not want me to know she’s trying to sell the house? “Good morning, Devlin. You didn’t say you were coming over.”
“No, ma’am, but you did say I could come by anytime.” Maybe she forgot already. She could be forgetful on top of being evil. “Becca’s busy in the studio, and I got bored, so I figured I’d make myself useful.” I hold up the Tupperware and put more wattage into my smile, then shift to a frown. “Do you know she doesn’t have a TV in her home?”
“Becca doesn’t like to watch TV. Silly child. How are you going to learn about the world without TV?”
“She reads a lot” is on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back. I’m here to find a button to push, not defend Becca. That can come later. “Maybe she’s just too busy drawing to watch TV.”
Margaret sniffs. “Nonsense. Anyway, come on in. Did you have lunch yet?”
“I had a late breakfast.” There’s no way I’m going to eat with those damned cows watching.
“Oh, that’s too bad. You should’ve asked Becca to make you breakfast after you woke up. A man needs to set the right expectations when he’s married, or the wife will never do anything properly.”
Is she from the Middle Ages? I can’t decide if she’s saying this to please me or because she wants me to rag on Becca. “I don’t need her to do that. She’s busy working.” Margaret opens her mouth as though she’s about to argue. So I quickly add, “I used to hate it when my dad treated Mom like a housekeeper.” He didn’t, actually, because Mom was too busy and she wasn’t even in L.A. that much. “Becca’s my wife, not an employee.”
“Well. She sure got lucky when she married you,” Margaret says with a smile.
Since she didn’t add, “Bless your heart,” or some such, I think that went over well enough.
“By the way, I overheard what you were saying on the phone,” I say, and watch the sweet, grandmotherly mask slip a little. “I didn’t mean to, but you know. Voices carry.” I shoot her my most innocent, charming smile.
“I see.”
“If you want to sell this place and go elsewhere… I mean, it’s a big house,” I add like I didn’t hear everything clearly.
“Oh no, it’s not this house I’m trying to sell. It’s the other one I own. My son left it to me.”
“Ah.” I knew it. And she’s apparently unaware that I know what’s going on between her and Becca and the house.
“I’ve held on to it because selling the place would feel like a final goodbye.” She sighs sadly. If I hadn’t heard her demanding more money and lying about who’s taking care of the house, I might buy her “sad mama” routine. “But eventually…a time comes when you have to move on.”
“If…it’d help you, I could take it off your hands.” I put a hand on her shoulder with a fake “I’m ready to make your life better” smile.