The lady in black thrusts her shoulders back, chin raised in a silentfinally. It’s so performative I wonder if maybe she’s a paid actor, hired by Claude to spice up the proceedings. But no, my grandmother and her friends all look resigned, like they knew this was coming. Which means the judgy sourpuss really is Claude’s sister.
“Bernie,” Mervyn reads, “I know we’ve had our differences, but we’re still family. Remember that I always kept a place for you in my heart—and in my home.”
The lady in black digs through her gift bag. After tossing aside a few wads of colored tissue paper, her arm abruptly stills. A smile spreads across her face as she holds up a key.
Maybe she thinks Claude had a safety deposit box full of jewels, when anyone who really knew him could tell you that this place was his treasure—the building and the people who live here.
“I think we’re finished.” Bernie starts to stand, but Sports Car Guy tugs on her sleeve, pointing at himself. Claude’s sister fixes Mervyn with a steely look. “What about Bradley?”
Mervyn blinks owlishly at her. “Who?”
“My nephew. Bradley.”
“Ah.” Mervyn scratches his eyebrow. “I don’t, um—that is to say, he can stay for the party?”
“Don’t worry,” the woman in black tells Bradley. “We’ll sort this out later.”
“We’re not quite finished,” Mervyn calls after her as she hustles toward the exit, purse tucked under her arm.
She flicks a hand at him without breaking stride. “I’ve listened to enough of this nonsense.”
“Claude had a few parting words. I think you’ll want to hear them.”
There’s a weight to the last bit that sounds like more than a casual suggestion, especially coming from a lawyer. With obvious reluctance, Claude’s sister turns around, rolling her eyes at the interruption.
“Most of all, my dear ones”—Mervyn clears his throat, blushing again, and I swear he just checked out my grandmother—“I leave you each other, this community of like minds, my chosen family. I can picture your faces. The moment is bittersweet, tinged with nostalgia and grief. Trust me, I know. And I’m flattered. Feel free to shed a tear later. For now, I ask you to shake off the doldrums and admire my last hurrah, prepared specially for all of you.”
Ripples of excitement spread through the room, my grandmother and her neighbors trading eager looks.
“That’s right, friends,” Mervyn continues, raising one finger in the air. “It’s time for… murder!”
He fumbles for his phone. After an awkward pause, maniacal laughter fills the room.
“Just for fun,” Mrs. A reassures Bernie, who is giving all of us horrified looks.
“A little razzle-dazzle, but make it deadly,” Grandma Lainey adds. Mr. Namura supplies the jazz hands.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the woman in black says, like she’s too pure for this world. “And I don’t want to know,” she tacks on, as half a dozen people open their mouths to explain. “We won’t be having any of that. I forbid it.”
“Come again?” Grandma Lainey taps her palm with the baton, not unthreateningly.
Claude’s sister holds up her key like she’s going to challengemy grandmother to a duel. “This is my building now, and I’ll be putting a stop to anything low-class.”
“About that…” Mervyn swallows nervously, patting his throat.
“Spit it out,” Bernie snaps.
“I suggest you read your brother’s letter. That explains more of his, ah, vision.”
“Enough.” She holds up a hand, nostrils flaring. “This entire afternoon has been a travesty. It’s classic Claude. You’d think he’d get over himself in death, but no. Still an attention hog.”
“It is his party,” Mr. Gutierrez reminds her, in a deceptively mild tone.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Life isn’t a party! What was he thinking, frittering his time away in this ridiculous place? He never grew up—and all of you enabled him!” She swings her glare around the room like she’s power-washing us with her scorn. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. Have your fun today. Tomorrow, we’ll get down to business. Let’s go, Bradley.”
“He didn’t leave you the building,” Mervyn says.
That stops her in her tracks. “What?”
