Chapter 3
On the fifth day, David finally called. But it wasn't an apology. "Hazel, you've had your little break. Come home."
"Come home for what?" I shot back.
"Mom said since you left, nobody's been cooking. We've been ordering takeout every meal. Dad's stomach can't take it," he said.
I gripped my phone so hard that my knuckles turned white. "Isn't Leah staying there now? Let her cook."
"She doesn't know how."
"Then, you cook," I said.
There was a brief silence on the other end. "Hazel Reed, what exactly do you want?" he snapped.
He used my full name. Three years of marriage, and he only ever did that when he was angry.
"What do I want? David, why don't you ask yourself what you've done?" I shot back.
"It's just the access. Is it really that big a deal? I said I'd add you later," he said.
"Your brother moved into my house. Did you even ask me?"
"He's my brother. What's the big deal if he stays a couple of days?"
"David, that's my house."
Another silence on the line. Then, his voice dropped, carrying that familiar edge of irritation. "Fine. Come back or don't. I don't care." He hung up.
I put my phone down on the table and watched the screen go dark.
*****
My best friend, Grace Miller, came by that afternoon. She worked at a bank, five years in loans. She knew real estate inside out.
"Run me through the access mess one more time," she said.
I told her.
When I finished, she set her cup down hard on the table. "Hazel, are you seriously this clueless?"
"Huh?" I said.
"Whose name is on the deed?" Grace asked.
"Mine," I replied.
"Only yours?"
"Only mine."
"Who's paying the mortgage?" she asked.
"Me. It comes out of my paycheck every month."
"Has David put in a single cent?"
I thought about it. "He chipped in about 7,000 dollars for appliances when we renovated."
Grace looked at me like I needed a good shake. "Hazel, legally, this house has nothing to do with David. Your parents put down the down payment. You pay the mortgage. The deed has your name on it.
"The 7,000 dollars he put in? That was for appliances. And appliances are movable property. He can take them when he goes."
I knew all that. I knew it the day I bought the place.
"So why are you still putting up with this?" Grace asked.
I didn't answer.
She stared at me for a second, then it clicked. "You're waiting for them to go too far."
I took a sip of my coffee.
"You're waiting for them to dig themselves into a hole so deep that you can cut it all off in one go," she said.
I said nothing. That was as good as a yes.
Grace leaned back in her chair. "Alright. I'll keep an eye on things for you. I have a friend at the property management company in your complex. I asked my friend about the access system.
"If the owner shows up with the deed, they can reset all the access permissions at any time."
"I know," I said.
"Then, when are you going to do something about it?"
"Not yet," I said.
"What are you waiting for?"
"His mom to kill off the last bit of hope I'm still holding onto."
Grace looked at me and didn't say another word.
As she was leaving, she paused at the door and turned back. "Hazel, you're great in every way, but you just endure too much," she said.
"When I've had enough, I stop," I replied.
She closed the door.
I sat by the window, watching the streetlights come on one by one outside.
Three years of marriage. I had thought about this day before. I just didn't expect it to come so soon.
When we bought the house, Linda made a fuss, insisting David's name be added to the deed.
My dad slammed the table. "He hasn't paid a cent. Why should his name be on it?"
Linda cried all day, saying we were looking down on David.
In the end, my mom caved. "Maybe we should just add David's name."
My dad locked the deed in the drawer. "No way. This is my daughter's security."
Back then, I thought my dad was being too harsh. Now, I had to admit he was right.