Chapter 4 · Access Granted to Family, Owner Locked Out

On the seventh day, Linda called me herself. "Hazel, aren't you done with your drama yet?" she said.

Her tone was that classic elder talking down to a junior. Calm and steady, like she was doing me a favor.

"Linda, I'm not being dramatic," I replied.

"Not being dramatic? You've been holed up at your parents' place for a week. What are people going to say about our family?" she pushed.

I gripped my phone and didn't say a word.

"Listen, come back. I'll have David figure out the access thing. If it comes to it, I'll give up my spot and let you have it," she said.

She was offering to give up her spot to me so I could access my own house.

"Linda, don't bother," I said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"It means you don't have to do that. I'm not coming back," I said.

A few seconds of silence on the line. Then, Linda's voice shifted. Her fake kindness cracked.

"Hazel, don't be so ungrateful. My son marrying you is your good luck. You get to live in a brand new house, over 1,000 square feet, and you still find things to complain about?" she snapped.

"Linda, that house..." I started.

"I don't care whose name is on the deed. David is the head of this household, and I'm the one who calls the shots here. If you're not coming back, I'll have David file for divorce." She hung up after saying that.

I held my phone and listened to the dial tone for a long time.

File for divorce. She thought that was supposed to threaten me.

*****

That night, my dad stood on the balcony smoking. My mom folded clothes inside.

I walked out to the balcony and stood next to my dad. "Dad," I said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Linda said she's going to have David file for divorce," I told him.

My dad paused, the cigarette in his hand freezing midair. "Let her," he said.

"You're not worried?" I asked.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and turned to me. "Hazel, are you scared?"

"No," I said.

"Then that's all that matters. The house is yours. You pay the mortgage. If he files for divorce, he can't take a single brick out of it."

I nodded. My dad gave my shoulder a pat and said nothing more.

*****

On the eighth day, things started to go sour.

Leah drilled a row of hooks into the second bedroom wall, leaving five holes behind.

Flora sent me a WhatsApp message about it with a photo. My cream colored paint now had five dark holes in it.

She wrote: [Ms. Reed, they also rearranged the kitchen cabinets. They took out the sterilizer and put in a dish rack.]

The sterilizer was the one I had picked out myself. It was built-in, costing more than 600 dollars.

I wrote: [Ms. Foster, could you take some photos for me to keep?]

[Of course,] she replied.

I saved the photos she sent, opened WhatsApp, and sent David a message. I wrote: [Leah put five holes in the second bedroom wall and removed the sterilizer in the kitchen.]

He replied right away: [It's just a few nail holes. Are you really going to make a big deal out of this?]

[And the sterilizer?] I shot back.

[She said it didn't work for her, so she swapped it for a dish rack. I'll get you a new one later,] he replied.

[David, I'm going to say this one more time. That's my house,] I typed.

[Can you stop repeating that? We're married. We're family. Yours, mine. What's the difference?] he replied.

I stared at that message for a long time.

He said there was no difference between his and mine. But there was in the access list. There was in the social feed photo. There was in who cooked. There was in who moved in.

There was a difference in everything, except when it came to my house.

I didn't reply.

*****

On the ninth day, Susan called. "Hazel, listen to me."

"Go ahead, Aunt Susan," I replied.

"Linda's a bit tough, but she means well. David too. He's not good with words and doesn't know how to sweet talk. As his wife, you should be the bigger person. Go back and hold the family together," she said.

"Aunt Susan, do you know about the access thing?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's just the access. What's the big deal? Linda said David will add you later," she replied.

"Aunt Susan, seven out of eight slots went to relatives, and I'm not even on the list. Do you really think that's no big deal?" I shot back.

There was silence on the other end.

"Aunt Susan, who added you to the list?" I asked.

"David did," she replied after a pause.

"So do you think it's fair that I, the one who paid the down payment and the mortgage every month, am behind you on that list?" I said.

Susan didn't answer.

After a moment, she sighed, "Hazel, to be fair. David was wrong about this. But you two are married. You need to work together."

"Aunt Susan, I've been pulling my weight for three years." I hung up after saying that.

My mom stood in the doorway, an apple half peeled in her hand. "They called trying to talk you into going back?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"What are you planning to do?" she asked.

I looked out the window. "Mom, I'm going to the property management office tomorrow."

My mom stopped peeling the apple for a moment. "You've made up your mind?"

"Yeah, I have," I said.

*****

At nine in the morning on the tenth day, I arrived at the property management office.

Flora saw me at the front desk. She stood up and greeted me. "Ms. Reed, here to take care of something today?"

"Yeah. The access," I said.

"Have a seat. I'll get my supervisor," she said.

The property manager, Fred Carter, was in his early forties. He wore glasses, totally by the book. "Ms. Reed, what can I do for you?"

I took the property deed out of my bag and placed it on the desk. "I need to reset all the access permissions for this unit."

Fred picked up the deed, flipped through it, checked my ID, and double-checked the info in the system. "Ms. Reed, you're the sole owner. You have the right to reset all the access information."

"Remove all eight people currently registered," I said.

Fred looked up at me. "All of them?"

"All of them," I said.

"So just leave you?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

He nodded and started working on the system. "Ms. Reed, I'll need you to sign a confirmation form for the change."

I took the pen and signed.

"All done. The system is updated. The fingerprints and facial scans of the previous eight people have all been cleared. Only you have access now," he said.

Chapter 4

On the seventh day, Linda called me herself. "Hazel, aren't you done with your drama yet?" she said.

Her tone was that classic elder talking down to a junior. Calm and steady, like she was doing me a favor.

"Linda, I'm not being dramatic," I replied.

"Not being dramatic? You've been holed up at your parents' place for a week. What are people going to say about our family?" she pushed.

I gripped my phone and didn't say a word.

"Listen, come back. I'll have David figure out the access thing. If it comes to it, I'll give up my spot and let you have it," she said.

She was offering to give up her spot to me so I could access my own house.

"Linda, don't bother," I said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"It means you don't have to do that. I'm not coming back," I said.

A few seconds of silence on the line. Then, Linda's voice shifted. Her fake kindness cracked.

"Hazel, don't be so ungrateful. My son marrying you is your good luck. You get to live in a brand new house, over 1,000 square feet, and you still find things to complain about?" she snapped.

"Linda, that house..." I started.

I held my phone and listened to the dial tone for a long time.

File for divorce. She thought that was supposed to threaten me.

*****

That night, my dad stood on the balcony smoking. My mom folded clothes inside.

I walked out to the balcony and stood next to my dad. "Dad," I said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Linda said she's going to have David file for divorce," I told him.

My dad paused, the cigarette in his hand freezing midair. "Let her," he said.

"You're not worried?" I asked.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and turned to me. "Hazel, are you scared?"

"No," I said.

"Then that's all that matters. The house is yours. You pay the mortgage. If he files for divorce, he can't take a single brick out of it."

I nodded. My dad gave my shoulder a pat and said nothing more.

*****

On the eighth day, things started to go sour.

Leah drilled a row of hooks into the second bedroom wall, leaving five holes behind.

Flora sent me a WhatsApp message about it with a photo. My cream colored paint now had five dark holes in it.

She wrote: [Ms. Reed, they also rearranged the kitchen cabinets. They took out the sterilizer and put in a dish rack.]

The sterilizer was the one I had picked out myself. It was built-in, costing more than 600 dollars.

I wrote: [Ms. Foster, could you take some photos for me to keep?]

[Of course,] she replied.

I saved the photos she sent, opened WhatsApp, and sent David a message. I wrote: [Leah put five holes in the second bedroom wall and removed the sterilizer in the kitchen.]

He replied right away: [It's just a few nail holes. Are you really going to make a big deal out of this?]

[And the sterilizer?] I shot back.

[She said it didn't work for her, so she swapped it for a dish rack. I'll get you a new one later,] he replied.

[David, I'm going to say this one more time. That's my house,] I typed.

[Can you stop repeating that? We're married. We're family. Yours, mine. What's the difference?] he replied.

I stared at that message for a long time.

He said there was no difference between his and mine. But there was in the access list. There was in the social feed photo. There was in who cooked. There was in who moved in.

There was a difference in everything, except when it came to my house.

I didn't reply.

*****

On the ninth day, Susan called. "Hazel, listen to me."

"Go ahead, Aunt Susan," I replied.

"Aunt Susan, do you know about the access thing?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's just the access. What's the big deal? Linda said David will add you later," she replied.

"Aunt Susan, seven out of eight slots went to relatives, and I'm not even on the list. Do you really think that's no big deal?" I shot back.

There was silence on the other end.

"Aunt Susan, who added you to the list?" I asked.

"David did," she replied after a pause.

"So do you think it's fair that I, the one who paid the down payment and the mortgage every month, am behind you on that list?" I said.

Susan didn't answer.

After a moment, she sighed, "Hazel, to be fair. David was wrong about this. But you two are married. You need to work together."

"Aunt Susan, I've been pulling my weight for three years." I hung up after saying that.

My mom stood in the doorway, an apple half peeled in her hand. "They called trying to talk you into going back?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"What are you planning to do?" she asked.

I looked out the window. "Mom, I'm going to the property management office tomorrow."

My mom stopped peeling the apple for a moment. "You've made up your mind?"

"Yeah, I have," I said.

*****

At nine in the morning on the tenth day, I arrived at the property management office.

Flora saw me at the front desk. She stood up and greeted me. "Ms. Reed, here to take care of something today?"

"Yeah. The access," I said.

"Have a seat. I'll get my supervisor," she said.

The property manager, Fred Carter, was in his early forties. He wore glasses, totally by the book. "Ms. Reed, what can I do for you?"

I took the property deed out of my bag and placed it on the desk. "I need to reset all the access permissions for this unit."

Fred picked up the deed, flipped through it, checked my ID, and double-checked the info in the system. "Ms. Reed, you're the sole owner. You have the right to reset all the access information."

"Remove all eight people currently registered," I said.

Fred looked up at me. "All of them?"

"All of them," I said.

"So just leave you?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

He nodded and started working on the system. "Ms. Reed, I'll need you to sign a confirmation form for the change."

I took the pen and signed.

"All done. The system is updated. The fingerprints and facial scans of the previous eight people have all been cleared. Only you have access now," he said.