“Deal.”
There was a click as a lock disengaged, followed by another, another after that. When Ms. Leech opened the door, she opened it just enough to glance at the two of us, then up and down the hallway, no doubt confirming we were alone. When satisfied, she opened the door a little further and ushered us inside. “Hurry.”
Gerdy stepped past her, with me at her back. Ms. Leech closed the door swiftly behind us, engaged three dead bolts, and set the security chain.
It had been years since I last saw the inside of Elfrieda Leech’s apartment, and at first glance, I couldn’t help but wonder when someone else had last stepped foot inside. Did she even allow Mr. Triano, the building super, through that door?
The stacks of newspapers I remembered as a child still towered over me, now reaching to the ceiling only to begin with a fresh stack beside each base. Those secondary stacks stood nearly as tall as the first, and with so many, the room had been swallowed up by them. Ms. Leech’s apartment had the same floor plan as mine, so I knew where specific rooms should be, but at first glance, this was a foreign place, a maze of paper towers growing from the hardwood floor. I knew the back wall housed two windows, same as mine, both covered in aluminum foil—any light trying to get in from outside encouraged to go elsewhere.
Ms. Leech was staring at me, her mouth agape. “You are all grown up? When did that happen?”
She had never owned a television, and as far as I knew, years had passed since the last time she set foot outside this apartment. Her only contact with the outside world came from the newspapers delivered to her door. I wondered if time passed for her as it did for the rest of us—this place, and she too, seemed trapped somewhere in the past, a dark spot between the ticks and tocks of the world’s clock.
Beside me, Gerdy sneezed. “I’m sorry, my allergies have been horrible today.”
Considering the condition of this place, it was a wonder all three of us weren’t sneezing. A blanket of dust covered everything, thick enough that the original color of every surface now had the same dull, gray pallor. If I ran my finger over something, I’d be willing to bet I wouldn’t leave a streak behind, but instead the dust would peel up like a thick quilt.
Ms. Leech rounded two of the newspaper piles and disappeared from sight toward the place where the kitchen should be. “Would you like a glass of milk, or water, or tea or coffee?”
Gerdy quickly shook her head.
“No, thank you,” I replied.
“Tea it is, then,” she called back. “I always have tea this time of day. Please take a seat near the fire, give me a moment to prepare. I wasn’t expecting guests today. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to straighten up.”
Gerdy and I both looked at each other, then around the room. We could barely move a foot in any direction.
I nodded toward the living room. “I remember a fireplace, back over there.” I took her hand in mine and led her through the stacks, toward the back of the apartment, toward the covered windows.
My apartment did not have a fireplace, and although Ms. Leech’s did, it was clear it hadn’t been lit in a very long time. Three logs sat stacked in the hearth, precariously balanced and held together by spiderwebs thick enough to appear a solid mass of dull white. Books covered the mantle as well as the bookshelves surrounding the fireplace, two, sometimes three rows deep, with more books piled in front on the floor, smaller versions of the newspaper towers. Although these stacks appeared random, I realized the books were actually in alphabetical order by author. Filthy with dust, like every other surface. The dust here was haphazard, though—some spines were streaked with recent touches, others nearly unreadable.
A couch and two chairs sat facing the fireplace with a small table between.
Gerdy and I sat on the couch, careful not to touch anything.
When Ms. Leech appeared holding a sterling silver serving tray, she simply stared at us for the longest time before finally saying, “I’m afraid that’s my seat.”
Gerdy and I relocated to the two chairs.
Ms. Leech set the tray down on the rickety table and handed each of us a china cup of steaming tea on an equally delicate saucer. “Milk or sugar?”
We both shook our heads and watched as she added both to her own cup before settling into the couch, taking a sip, then setting the cup down on the table. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
I attempted to drink some of the tea, nearly burned my lip, then just held the cup awkwardly in my hands. “I figured we should talk about Auntie Jo. She made you my guardian. I wanted to thank you, I guess.”
Ms. Leech’s eyes darted from me to Gerdy and back again over the rim of her cup. “You are to receive a monthly allowance of two thousand dollars. That is meant to cover your rent, your utilities, and your groceries. You’ll buy my groceries now, too.”
“I already buy your groceries, every Thursday.”
“I expect you topayfor my groceries,” she corrected.
“Oh, okay.”
“This will be considered payment for my services. In return, should anyone ask, I will tell them you are my charge and you live under my roof and you follow my rules, none of which involve stealing books or other items belonging to others.” She paused, then added, “Use of the wordothertwice in the same sentence is sloppy grammar. I’m usually much better than that, but I’m nervous. I haven’t had guests in some time.” She drank more tea, the cup clicking against the saucer.
Gerdy smiled. “Were you close to Josephine?”
“Who?”
