“It’s me, babes. You know what to do.”
I’m pretty sure I recognize the voice, even before Bernie yells at her phone, “Bradley! I’m waiting for you in the lobby.” Shifting so her back is to us, she lowers her voice only slightly before continuing. “I told you I don’t feel safe in this dump. You can’t leave me alone with these people.”
With a dramatic sigh, she tosses her phone into her purse.
“What do you suppose Claude was thinking?” Grandma Lainey asks.
Mrs. A puts a hand on my grandmother’s arm. “Let’s give her a chance. Imagine yourself in her shoes.”
“No thank you,” my grandmother sniffs, glancing across the lobby at Bernie’s unadorned flats. She’s never been a believer in navy blue footwear. Something about traumatic memories of school uniforms.
We watch Bernie wave Mervyn toward the elevator, letting him awkwardly maneuver the luggage cart inside without so much as holding the doors for him.
“I should let you go up first,” she tells Mervyn. “In case it breaks down. When was this thing last inspected?”
His reply is inaudible, probably because he’s pinned behind a massive pile of suitcases. Bernie shoots a look at the front desk before glancing at the elevator, which must be less alarming than the three of us since she grudgingly climbs inside.
“It’s hard to be the outsider.” Mrs. A continues, as the elevator begins its ascent. “We shouldn’t judge by first impressions. This is Claude’s sister we’re talking about. She might have hidden depths.”
“She refused to speak to her only brother for decades,” my grandmother reminds her. “I’d hate to see her go lower than that.”
“Then maybe she’ll grow and change.” For someone who devotes most of her free time to thinking about violent crimes, Mrs. A has a surprisingly optimistic worldview. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” she says, turning to me. “Where’s Felix?”
“I’m not sure.” I have a pretty good guess he’s still at the pool, but I don’t want to encourage the idea that I’m plugged into his every move. It sounds a little obsessed, when I’m going for more of acasually keeping tabs on a potential rivalvibe. “Why?”
“Because that smells like what he was cooking,” she replies, nodding at the mostly empty bowl in my hands.
Damn. These people don’t miss a trick. “I saw him earlier. At the pool.” The words are so stiff it could be a witness statement: It was Felix, by the pool, with the beans and rice. “I was there first,” I add, trying to make it clear we didn’t meet there on purpose and instead coming across like a whiny child.
“I see.” Mrs. A studies my face for several excruciating moments. I feel myself blushing, and I know she can tell, but I can’t let her crack my composure that easily.
The elevator dings, and Mervyn exits, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. His sage-green bow tie is askew.
“She didn’t want me to come inside,” he explains, before we can ask.
Mrs. A sucks in a shocked breath. “Not even for a glass of water?” Hospitality is one of her core values, right up there with the importance of lip liner.
“Still think she’s hiding a heart of gold?” Grandma Lainey teases.
“Well.” After a drawn-out pause, Mrs. A steps out from behind the counter, heading for the plush seating area near the front door. “Moving is stressful.”
“Indeed,” my grandmother agrees, joining her. “Which begs the question of why she decided to rehome herself, when she obviously doesn’t like it here.”
“She might want to feel close to her brother,” Mrs. A says, without much conviction. “Or else she’s having her floors redone and needed a place to stay. Maybe they’re fumigating her building.”
“So she decided to infest our home instead?”
“It’s only temporary,” Mrs. A starts to say, breaking off when Mervyn clears his throat.
My grandmother’s eyes narrow. “Yes?”
Instead of answering, he plucks at his bow tie. My grandmother and Mrs. A exchange a speaking look.
“You seem troubled, Mervyn.” Grandma Lainey pats the seat next to hers. “Why don’t you rest a minute?”
“Tea?” Mrs. A offers. “We have some lovely snickerdoodles in the kitchen.”
Poor Mervyn. There’s no way he’s getting out of here without telling them everything they want to know. He seems to realize the same thing. His shoulders sag as he settles onto the upholstered chair between them.
