Three Suitcases Left in the Rain and Nineteen Million Dollars in Cancun
I picked up my purse, feeling the heavy brass key in my pocket.
I took the bus back to the neighborhood, walking the final three blocks under the grey autumn sky.
I returned to the garage at five o’clock, the evening chill already settling into the concrete floor.
I was folding the frayed blue wool blanket on the edge of the metal cot when the side door creaked open. Nathan stepped inside, his hands jammed deep into his trouser pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold air.
“Mom,” Nathan said, his voice trailing off as he looked at the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
“Hello, Nathan,” I said, placing the folded blanket on the pillow.
Nathan sat down on the edge of the metal cot, the springs groaning under his weight. He did not look at me, keeping his eyes on his brown leather shoes.
“Sable is still upset about the house papers,” Nathan said, his voice barely a whisper. “She says you are making things difficult on purpose.”
“I am only asking for what your father intended, Nathan,” I said.
