So yesterday, she’d forced herself to do the logical thing. She ghosted Carl, deleting and blocking his number before she could give herself time to back out. She didn’t want the temptation of having his number or receiving his calls. She didn’t want the chance to confront him, which would be a denial-trap if he tried to give her any half-assed explanation.
In answer to her thoughts, an ascending-beat ringtone sounded nearby. Only disaster rang so early. She banged her toe running for the phone. “Shit.” She grabbed her toe. “Hello?”
“Lauren, it’s me, Jessica.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Emily’s asleep. I scared you?”
“Yeah.” Lauren sat, rubbing the pain out of her toe.
“Listen, I went to Brian’s office last night.”
“Get out.”
“I found some things I didn’t expect. Did you ever hear Brian mention doing real estate work?”
“What? No.”
“I found sales contracts for buildings. Sold for millions of dollars. He was the lawyer.”
“He didn’t know anything about real estate. He said he had no interest in learning.”
“Right. That’s why I’m so freaked out. I googled the addresses and found pictures. One was a rundown house, maybe even abandoned. It sold for five million dollars. Another sold for twelve. Apartment buildings that size in that part of the Bronx aren’t selling for half that much. And it gets worse. The files didn’t have the phone numbers of the companies involved. I couldn’t even find websites for them. There was a guy who signed for the buyers, the president of the company. He was a Facebook friend of Brian’s, but he has a private page, so I couldn’t get any information there. The thing is, Lauren, the building that was sold for twelve million … it must have been the last thing Brian worked on before Miami.”
Lauren didn’t know what to say. She was baffled, as if the world had turned on its axis and all the light in the room was suddenly shining for the wrong time of day. When you’d been married to someone for over ten years there were things you came to expect and things you didn’t. She knew Brian would cheat on a woman and maybe cheat on his taxes, but his having an entire hidden professional life he didn’t boast about was, frankly, too far out to fathom.
“What do you think?” Jessica asked.
“I don’t know. Things have been weird but—”
“I have the addresses of the places. Would you come with me, just to see? I mean, Google Earth photos can be years old, and it’s hard to figure out what’s up unless we see the neighborhood.”
“We sure can’t ask Steve,” Lauren mused. “Okay. At the least, it could be interesting.”
***
Jessica and Emily arrived just after noon. Lauren kissed and hugged Emily, then made gluten-free turkey sandwiches that she knew Jessica would eat. Emily had told Lauren all about Jessica’s myriad food restrictions. They sat in Lauren’s square, eat-in kitchen with a window overlooking the mom-and-pop stores of West 181st Street—a bodega, a Russian delicacy shop, a glass-walled threading salon with Pakistani women bent over reclining ladies in barber chairs. Big-box stores had tried to pry their way into the gentrifying neighborhood, but raucous community meetings had kept them out.
Jessica and Lauren stalled, eating lunch and drinking tea, in the hope that Emily would get bored and go out as she usually did. That would spare them the need to explain their afternoon activities. But Emily milled around, lazily ate her sandwich, munched pickles, picked up the New York Times, put it down. She started texting on her phone, an activity that could keep her entertained for hours.
After a bit, she looked up at Lauren. “So, you went out with a guy?”
“Uh-huh.”
Jessica smiled. “Oh, that’s nice.”
Lauren grimaced, not at all happy to be placated by Jessica about her love life.
Emily looked up from her phone again. “Did you slam dunk him yet?”
“It was nothing.”
“It’s always nothing—by the time you figure out all the bad things about them.”
Lauren picked up her sandwich, wanting to kill Emily for talking about it in front of Jessica. Lauren took her last bite and rinsed her plate off before sitting back down. Emily had begun eating again but seemed to be chewing in slow motion, concentrating on her phone.
Jessica looked at Lauren, imploringly, clearly anxious to get going.
Lauren reached out and stroked Emily’s hair from her face. “What are your plans for the day?”
Emily shrugged. “Dunno. Hang out. What are you doing?”
“The Bergen outlet mall, shopping,” Jessica said quickly.
“Get out?” Emily looked at Lauren. “You’re going shopping? You never go shopping—like for fun? What, you two are celebrating Steve screwing us out of our money?”
Lauren let out a clipped laugh of surprise. Jessica reddened, embarrassed that she’d failed to keep Emily oblivious to everything. She’d mistaken Emily’s air of indifference for inattentiveness. Lauren could have warned her about that.
“Come on, I’m not stupid. Something is going on with Steve, something to do with Daddy, and now you two are going to the discount stores together. You think because I’m a kid I’m totally stupid. Well, whatever’s up, I’m coming with you.” Emily smirked. “I need school clothes.”
“You hate that mall,” Lauren said. “Remember? It’s always crowded and they sell last year’s clothes.”
Jessica pitched in, “I’ll take you to New Roc next week.”
Emily sat back and crossed her arms. “Nah. That’s okay.”
Jessica looked desperate. “What about the friends you wanted to see?”
Emily smiled. “Don’t you guys always tell me they’ll still be here when I get back?”
“Okay, okay,” Lauren gave up. “We’re going to look at property that your father did real estate deals on.”
“Get out.” Emily laughed. “Daddy didn’t do real estate. Even I know that.”
“Exactly. That’s why we want a look-see.”
Emily’s mouth opened, half-shock, half-excitement. “Oh.”
The three of them retrieved Jessica’s car from a one-hour spot downstairs. Emily spotted a group of her friends coming out of the corner Starbucks with Frappuccinos. She ran to the girls; they began hugging, whispering, and laughing together. Lauren thought Emily might change her mind about coming but she didn’t. A moment later, she trotted to catch up and dove into the back seat with her normal excess of energy. “Okay, so where are we going exactly?”
***
Jessica entered the address of the first building into the dashboard GPS. They rode across town, then north, the neighborhood changing as they drove. Flashy Dominican restaurants took up entire blocks. The sidewalks filled with racks of inexpensive clothing and crowds of brown-skinned people from countries Jessica had only encountered from the safety of all-inclusive resorts. Spanish-language signs provided overhead subtitles for beauty parlors and clothing stores, their display windows populated by full-figured mannequins in tight dresses.
The GPS led the car over a trestle bridge. Elevated train tracks ran overhead, blocking out the afternoon sun. Jessica didn’t trust her GPS to find the quickest route. She often talked to the device as if it were an erratic relative, but not today. She watched the unfamiliar neighborhood, feeling a dread that kept her mouth stitched.
“We’re getting close,” Lauren said, looking over at the GPS.
Gas stations, auto body shops, and car-glass stores lined both sides of the street now. They approached a grimy store with tires leaning on a cinder-block wall. At the curb, a tiny man was jacking up a car with a hand pump. A sign advertised handwritten prices for new and used tires. The man looked at their slow-moving car and smiled, probably hoping they were shopping for tires.
“Arriving at 2506 Jerome Avenue,” the GPS said.
“Jesus,” Lauren said. “We’re looking for a five-million-dollar building.”
Jessica groaned as they slowly passed the dilapidated tire store.
Beside it, Jessica took in the sight of a small building, its windows boarded up. “It’s the one I saw on Google Earth.”
“It wouldn’t fit more than four small apartments if there’s one in the basement,” Lauren thought aloud. “It could never be worth five million dollars.”
“I don’t get this,” Jessica said, her eyes burning and knuckles aching from her two-handed grip on the steering wheel.
Emily snorted. “Daddy’s building.”
“Not your father’s buildings,” Jessica barked. “He was the lawyer.”
Lauren’s gaze snapped to her. “Jessica.”
Emily blinked hard, crossed her arms, and looked out the window. “Whatever.”
“Look, Jessica,” Lauren said, “You can turn the car around and Emily and I can go about our business.”
“I’m sorry.” Jessica turned back to Emily, her face hot with embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just freaking out a little here.”
“Okay.” Lauren took a deep breath. “We’re all stressed.”
“I doubt anyone lives there,” Emily said.
Several Latino and African men emerged from a car wash, drying all sides of a shining car that pulled out of a driveway a few yards up the block.
Jessica watched them but was thinking about the building. “It’s worse than the picture.”
“It’s better than Dad having a whole secret family or—” Emily interrupted herself, shutting herself up, apparently thinking of Jessica’s feelings. The first time ever, Jessica thought.
“I don’t know anything about him anymore. What connection could Brian have had with any of this?” Jessica said, mortified that Lauren was witnessing what an idiot she’d been when it came to Brian. Jessica hadn’t been the big winner after all—she’d been the biggest idiot. Brian did have a secret life. Jessica felt so diminished by it all. But she was still glad Lauren was here. She couldn’t have done this alone, and she was beyond grateful that Lauren wasn’t gloating. If she’d been in Lauren’s place with a woman who had stolen the man she loved, Jessica didn’t think she could be as nice.
“And why such a high price?” Lauren said. “My first thought was that it was some sort of speculation, but if there were going to be a rise in property values in the area—because of a shopping complex or zoning changes or something—you wouldn’t buy at already inflated prices or there would be no profit.”
“If it had anything to do with Daddy, it had to be about money,” Emily said.
Jessica looked at Emily, the whole thing so unreal she felt as if she could spin out of control.
“Emily’s right,” Lauren said. “We need to figure out how money could be made on the sales of the buildings, and we’ll have the answer. Let’s just go to the next building.”
Jessica wiped away a tear. “Okay.” She programmed the GPS. “It’s pretty close.”
They left the auto parts street and made their way through a mismatched patchwork of five-story apartment buildings and clapboard homes. The Bronx streets wove in haphazard curves up and down, sometimes connected by staircases that ran between buildings, one block stacked over the next. Jessica drove up a narrow street on a hill of prewar apartment buildings. The block bent in a hairpin turn with two-family homes at the top of the hill and apartment buildings at the bottom. Halfway down, a ramshackle five-story building wrapped in scaffolding stood in the center of an abandoned lot. Two brick wings embraced a rubble-strewn courtyard. The GPS announced their arrival.
“Oh, God,” Jessica breathed, stopping the car at the curb in front of it.
“Twelve million dollars,” Lauren said.
On impulse, Jessica exited the car. A matted-down path through the courtyard, resembling the dirt jogger tracks that ran beside Westchester roads, led to the entrance. Above her, some of the windows gaped empty and black, but others seemed to have life behind their glass.
Lauren approached her. “What are you doing?”
Jessica started to march angrily toward the building. “I’m going to ask who the owner is. People live here.”
Lauren grabbed her arm, “It’s not safe. It looks abandoned.”
Jessica wrenched her arm back, “I don’t care, Lauren. If people can squat here, I can knock on some doors and find out who owns the building.”
“Really? You’ve got to be kidding.” But Lauren walked alongside her.
“I’m coming, too,” Emily said, jumping out of the car.
“No!” Lauren and Jessica said simultaneously.
Lauren spoke firmly, “Wait for us in the car and lock the doors.”
“Mom,” Emily whined.
“I’m not kidding.”
A hardness in Lauren’s eyes convinced Emily, who about-faced to her seat in the car. The locks clicked.
At the building’s steel front door, head height, was a square opening meant to hold a pane of glass. It was too dark to see more than shadows beyond. When they walked inside, it became obvious what had happened. A fire had charred the first floor. A burnt smell clung to the air, mixed with a stink of mildew and urine.
Jessica and Lauren walked through the lobby. Their shoes crunched glass particles as they watched their step in the near darkness. They saw signs of life at a far corner: a flickering candle, discarded meal wrappers, an empty bed of flattened cardboard boxes.
A ragged woman with tattoos hanging off flaccid arms rounded the corner from a hallway behind the campsite. She fanned a hand toward her chest, “Oh, fuck, you scared the shit outta me.” She pulled at her pants and zipped them up; apparently, they had been too tight to lounge in comfort. A muffin top of fat hung over her waistband and her breasts sloped low on her chest under her shirt.
“Sorry,” Lauren said.
The woman gave Lauren a once over and glanced at Jessica, “If you’re looking to buy, this ain’t the place.”
“No. We’re looking for the landlord,” Lauren said, taking over as spokesperson even though it had been Jessica’s idea to ask people.
The woman cackled. “Oh, lord, do you think the landlord would be found here?”
Lauren pressed, “Do you know who he is or who manages the building?”
That really tickled the woman. She bent over laughing with a hand on the wall. “Does it look like this dump is being managed by anyone? Where the fuck you bitches come from? Wait a second, don’t I know you?” She pointed a finger at Lauren and peered at her, “Don’t you work at Family Court?” She stepped toward them.
Jessica worried that maybe Lauren had taken the woman’s children. What would happen then?
“Could be.” Lauren seemed unfazed, reflecting back the woman’s toughness.
“You got a couple of bucks?”
Lauren paused and took a twenty from the front pocket of her jeans. “It’s yours if you tell me about the landlord.”
The woman grinned, grunted, and reached down to shove the bill into her sock. “I don’t know for sure, but there were some guys here this morning that maybe own the place. Hard men, you could tell. They looked around then went to an apartment down there.” She pointed to an apartment without a door at the opposite end of the lobby, nearly invisible in the dark. “They didn’t see me, and I checked it out afterward just in case they accidentally left something there. But I’m not lucky like that, never am. Anyway, it seemed more like they were looking for something, not leaving anything. They were talking up a storm.”
“What did they say?” Lauren asked.
The woman shrugged. “I don’t speak Spanish.”
“You don’t know who they were?” Jessica asked.
“Let’s just check it out,” Lauren said. Jessica followed. They walked through a fire-widened doorway, the floors made of wood plank, the place unfurnished. All the windows were boarded up except one that let in light at the far right side.
A sudden noise wheeled Jessica and Lauren around, and they both jumped back. A bottle skittered across the floor. A figure stepped into the doorway. “Mom?”
“Emily? What are you doing here?” Jessica held her belly. “Oh, my God, you scared me.”
“Emily, what the hell?” Lauren said, angrily.
Emily whispered close to her mother, “I got nervous out there by myself. A car passed, slow. They looked at me … sort of weird, like maybe they knew me. Chinese guys. I didn’t know them.”
“They were probably just wondering what you were doing here,” Lauren said, coming to her.
The woman stepped into the room, following behind Emily. “Ain’t this some shit. You know if I had my baby in this godforsaken place, you would be taking her away from me right now. Again.”
Lauren put her hand on Emily’s back, “Let’s go.” She spoke to Jessica, “There’s nothing more to see here.
CHAPTER 17
Monday, November 4
It was a cold, gray afternoon and Carl had a case of the Monday blues, wishing Sunday with his son hadn’t ended so quickly. Yesterday had been one of those days when the simple moments with his son had filled Carl up, like the early days when his son had graced him with a first gummy smile. They hadn’t done anything special together. They’d just stretched out in Carl’s bedroom on a dreary day, Carl’s arm around his son’s shoulder, their heads propped up on pillows watching TV, talking and joking about whatever came to mind.
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