Twelve Rooms with a View. Theresa Rebeck

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       CHAPTER FOUR

      “Oh, for God’s sake,” said Lucy, all annoyed as soon as I got her. “Where have you been?”

      “They cut off the phone,” I told her.

      “No kidding. I tried calling you three hours ago and got the message that the phone had been stopped,” she said. “Where have you been?”

      “I went out to get a cell phone—”

      “You’ve been out buying a cell phone for three hours?”

      “Well, I needed some other stuff too and—”

      “I thought you were broke. What are you using for money?”

      “Would you listen to me, Lucy? They’re here! At least one of them is here and he’s trying to change the locks. He has a locksmith here and he says I have no rights and—”

      “Relax. I’m two blocks away, I’m taking care of it,” she told me.

      “What do you mean you’re two blocks away? I called you at work,” I said, all confused again.

      “And my assistant patched you through to my cell,” she informed me.

      “So you’re on your way here? How did you know to come?”

      “Tina, when the phone got cut off what did you think was going on?”

      “I don’t know. I thought I needed to get a cell phone.”

      “Well, I thought a little harder than that. Just stay right there in the lobby; I’ll be there in two minutes.”

      She hung up on me, just as Frank trotted back in. He looked a little shell-shocked, but in a more or less delirious kind of way. I thought he was going to be mad at me because I had basically just caused a huge scene, resulting in utter chaos in his little lobby, with people threatening to have him fired and all sorts of unpleasant bullshit. Frank, however, seemed to have barely noticed. He was actually humming a little tune, as he headed over to his podium and started picking up the packages which were still all over the floor. I thought for a moment that he was one of those strange sad people who need a little action to feel alive, but then I took another look, and it was like he was glowing a little bit, around the edges, you could almost see little beams of light coming out of his cuffs and collar. I thought, Oh, he’s in love, Frank is in love with the unspeakably beautiful Julianna Gideon. And he just got to be near her, he got to hold the cab door open for her for half a second.

      “She’s pretty, huh,” I said, testing out my theory.

      “Oh my God,” he agreed, as if I had just spoken straight to his interior monologue. “I can’t even, when I look at her, I can’t…” He glanced out the door, taking pleasure in just seeing the place he had last been allowed to look at her.

      “Does she know you like her?” I asked him.

      “What?” That was a bad question; it shook him out of his fantasy and he remembered how much of a right he had to be mad at me. “Did you get things straightened out with Doug? he asked, suddenly kind of stern. “He was quite certain that you are not supposed to be living up there in 8A. I didn’t know what to say. This has put me in a very awkward position. I put a call into building management and I don’t know what they’re going to do. There’s already been so much controversy around that apartment, I’m sure they’re going to want to talk to both of you about whatever this situation is,” he told me. He was trying his best to sound really mean, but the guy didn’t have it in him. He was reading me the riot act, and he just sounded like he was apologizing.

      “I’ll try to keep this out of your hair from now on,” I said.

      “I would appreciate that,” he said, but he didn’t sound angry, he actually sounded like he would really just appreciate that. Which is about when Lucy showed up, wearing a great gray suit and heels, carrying a big briefcase and looking like the queen of the universe.

      “Lucy! Hey, this is my sister Lucy,” I told Frank. “She’ll have this solved in five minutes, I guarantee. You don’t have to talk to building management.”

      “I’m sure they know all about this already,” Lucy announced, a little clippy. “Tina tells me there’s some confusion about the locks?”

      “Confusion, I should say so,” Frank said. “Doug Drinan—he’s Bill’s son?

      “I know who he is.” Lucy nodded, trying not to make that little sign with her hand that means can we hurry this up please.

      “Well, he’s up there, having the locks changed. He says he doesn’t know anything about you all having a claim on the place. I didn’t know what to tell him. Tina tells me she’s staying there. I got no reason to doubt her but Doug was Bill’s son—”

      “And we are his wife’s daughters.” Lucy smiled, completely professional. “No worries. We’ll clear this up in no time.” She took a couple of smooth steps over to the elevator bank and pressed the call button; as far as Lucy was concerned, this was as good as done. Frank smiled at me, relieved. When she isn’t just annoying as hell, Lucy does in fact have that effect on people. You know who’s in charge.

      Doug Drinan and his pal the locksmith were sadly not quite as easy to snow. We more or less fell out of the elevator up there on that eighth floor landing—that is, I fell out, with all my packages, while Lucy popped out like a genie and presented them both with a huge stack of documents.

      “Mr Drinan? Hi, how are you? I’m Lucy Finn, Olivia’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to meet you after all this time,” she announced, talking quickly. “As you are aware, our mother just passed only a few days ago and so obviously we are reeling, completely caught off guard, so I’m sure this is our fault. But I think there’s been some confusion about the status of the estate. We spoke with Stuart Long just yesterday, he was in possession of your father’s will; have you seen it? I brought an extra copy in case you hadn’t.” She handed it to him and kept talking. “Anyway there is some real question about who the beneficiaries of the estate are, at this time. Your father seems to have expressed in no uncertain terms that our mother was to inherit everything, that largely meaning the apartment, it’s unclear what else is included, but in any event I’m going to have to ask you to hold off on changing the locks for now. Until we get this sorted out.” She smiled at him, very pleasant, but there was a definite don’t-fuck-with-me edge behind it all. She works in PR. It’s very daunting.

      Doug Drinan unfortunately didn’t get on board with anything she was saying. He barely glanced at the papers she had handed him and just sort of tossed them to one side, on top of the old radiator that was hissing in the hallway. СКАЧАТЬ