She gasps. Of course, I know when her rent is due because it’s the same time Lorraine’s depression and anxiety used to spike. She’d continue taking her calls when she should’ve cut her mother off long ago. And even now, with her daughter in the grave, Meredith is still trying to piggyback off her.
“How dare you! I wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t filled my daughter's head with lies and let her die! She should’ve never been here in Manhattan! You killed my daughter! Youthink I’m not grieving? It must be so easy for you to pretend like she never existed when?—”
Slap. My hand begins to throb as I look down on her, all my seething rage coming to the surface as her words from the funeral replay in my mind, when she humiliated me and screamed bloody murder. The way Lorraine’s colleagues and friends looked at me, was as if I had a hand in her death.
And I did, to an extent. I’ve fed off the guilt from how we left things. The fact that I wasn’t with her on that walk, even though I had been on every other one before that.
For the longest time, I believed Meredith's accusations that I'd killed her daughter, simply because I couldn’t save her. But now, as time has passed, I realize that it’s not all my fault. And I certainly wasn’t the one pushing her every fucking day into an early grave.
“How dare you hit me. I’m calling the police, and I’ll take you for everything you’re worth!”
I laugh now like a madwoman. “It’s always about money, isn’t it, Meredith? A ticket to a new meal.”
“That’s rich coming from a pompous princess like you, who has always gotten everything she’s ever wanted. You haven’t worked a day in your life. I hate your type of people most!”
I step into her space again and see the tiny woman sink into herself. It’s strange how in so many ways she once held power over me, only because I wanted to respect her daughter’s wishes. But now, without Lorraine here to rein me in, nothing is safeguarding her. I only ever held my tongue at times to protect Lorraine’s peace. But my restraint means nothing to a dead woman.
“Let me make this very clear. You’re never to return here. You have no right to be on this doorstep,mydoorstep, and should you return, you’ll find yourself without both of your fucking legs.”
She tries to speak but swallows hard. Then she stammers, “A-are you threatening m-me?”
It tastes good, this vile rage being directed at the person who most deserves it. A woman who used and abused her own daughter, manipulating her by pretending to be a victim to the world, when she’s only made poor choices and then demanded her daughter get her out of the consequences.
“Just you wait,” she says, taking a step back when my neighbor opens the door to look out at the commotion. “An evil girl, this one,” Meredith tells her, pointing at me. “Won’t even give me my daughter’s belongings after she let her die! I have my rights as a mother!” she yells as she continues stepping backward. “Just you wait. You might be a rich little bitch, but you won’t ever silence me.”
She storms down the stairs, cursing and screaming about all my shortcomings and the various ways I was complicit in her daughter's death. It shifts from "you killed her" to "you took away my only baby" to "I’ll take you for everything you're worth."
“Is everything okay, dear?” Susan, my elderly neighbor, asks. I offer a sad smile because she’s only ever been kind to me. “That’s the evil mother, huh?”
We watch her as she continues screaming her way down the staircase. “Yeah,” I say, dejected. Although it feels good to finally stand up to her, I feel no better about any of it. Do I have the right to keep her daughter’s belongings? Is it even me who should be cherishing Lorraine and her memories? What if Lorraine really did hate me in the end?
“If you need anything, dear, let me know. Though I suppose that new boyfriend of yours has been helping a lot around the place. He fixed my plumbing the other day. Quite the handyman. Very handsome too.” She winks.
I offer her a tight smile, my blood boiling, realizing that Dante is still squirming himself into my life. And I have no idea why he’s become so obsessed.
Everyone else, I’ve been able to push away.
But he is unrelenting, even when not wanted.
Yet, right now, as my heart hurts… all I want is him.
22
ROMI
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I ask my mother, who called me over after a recent gossip article was published. It happened the same day Meredith came to the apartment. And within the blink of an eye, her voice has gained traction, tarnishing my family's name.
“I’ll talk to our lawyers,” my mother says, and I sigh. “What did she come over for? Money?”
I sit farther back in the chair, placing the chai latte down, and pet Borris on the head. “Not directly. She wants Lorraine’s things, but it doesn’t feel right handing them over when I know she’s just going to sell them.”
My mother grimaces, and I know she’s most likely going to play devil’s advocate. She may not always agree with me, but for the most part, she supports me. “She is entitled to her daughter's things. I would want the same closure. But it’s not the first time someone has tried to pull this stuff in hopes of a payout, and if she’s as bad as you say, then I believe you.”
I want to think better of her, to truly believe Meredith wants closure. But when it comes to her relationship with her daughter, she’s only ever taken. Sure, I might be stepping over a boundary, but I refuse to let her take any more from her.
“Did Dante witness the confrontation?”
I grow quiet, the thought of Dante quickly renews a flame of irritation, mainly because in my time of weakness, I thought of him. He's the last person who should be able to offer me any kind of comfort. I grind my jaw as I focus on Borris and say, “No, I kicked him out. We had… a difference of opinion.”
