Chapter 3
My mom said, "But Iris is your sister. If she doesn't marry well, you'll not look good either.
"Just treat the house as something you're lending her. Once she's married and settled, she'll give it back to you."
When the tough approach didn't work, they always switched to the gentle one, and I knew this trick too well.
"Lend? So transferring the house is 'lending' it too?" I asked.
"Come on, it's just a formality," my mom said.
My mom took my hand, trying to fake some motherly affection.
She said, "The Wilkersons need to see the deed. We'll transfer it back after the wedding.
"I'll write you an IOU, okay?"
Once they got the house, I would never get it back.
But I suddenly smiled. "Fine."
I watched their eyes light up and slowly dropped the bait.
I said, "Naturally, as Iris's sister, I want her to be happy. But..."
"But what?" Iris stood up eagerly.
"I still have a mortgage on this house. I owe 300 thousand dollars. I can't transfer the deed," I said.
I lied without blinking an eye.
I continued, "If you're in a hurry to transfer it, you have to pay off the mortgage for me first.
"Only then can we get the release papers and go to the land registry."
The room fell silent. 300 thousand dollars was almost all of my parents' life savings.
"How is there a mortgage? Didn't you say you paid for it in full?" Mom screeched.
"I said that so you guys could look good in front of the family," I replied.
I shrugged. "So, what's the plan? Are you paying it or not?
"If you don't, the house stays under my name.
"You guys can deal with the Wilkersons yourselves."
The three of them looked at each other.
I was betting on Iris's desire to marry into wealth. And my parents' greed for a rich son-in-law.
After a long moment, Iris gritted her teeth and spoke. "Dad, Mom, pay it. Once I marry into the Wilkersons, the wedding gift will be 700 thousand dollars.
"And there's a Porsche too. This kind of money is nothing. You have to spend money to make money."
My mom was still hesitating, but my dad was already dazzled by the thought of 700 thousand dollars and a Porsche.
My dad declared, "Alright, we'll go to the bank tomorrow.
"Erin, we'll pay the money. But you have to write a guarantee.
"As soon as the mortgage is paid, you'll transfer the house to Iris immediately."
I agreed readily, "No problem.
"But hurry up. The banks are closed on holidays. If we miss this chance, we'll have to wait a few more days."
*****
I was woken up early the next morning by frantic knocking on the door.
My mom was standing at the door, clutching several bankbooks.
She had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept all night.
"Get up. We're going to the bank," she said.
She threw the bankbooks at me.
I took my time washing up and getting dressed.
Every second I delayed earned me another insult from the living room.
My mom shouted, "You're dragging your feet on purpose, aren't you? I'm telling you, the money has to be transferred today.
"And the house must be signed over to Iris."
My dad paced back and forth in the living room, smoking one cigarette after another. The house reeked of smoke.
Iris was sitting on the sofa, talking to Andy on the phone in a sickly sweet voice.
She said, "Don't worry, honey. The house is all taken care of.
"Yeah, of course. Erin loves me the most. She would never say no to me."
I sneered as I put on my lipstick in the mirror.
Love you the most? Yeah, I loved you so much I wanted to skin you alive.
When we got to the bank, there was a long line at the counter.
My dad was impatient. He refused to take a number and tried to cut in line at the VIP window.
"I'm here for a big deal. That's 300 thousand dollars. Where's your branch manager?" he shouted.
The lobby manager politely stopped him and told him to take a number.
My dad glared and started cursing out loud. "Who do you think you are, looking down on me?
"I've got money. I'm here to transfer 300 thousand dollars today. I'll file a complaint against you."
Everyone around stared at him like he was some kind of zoo animal.
I stood in the corner wearing a mask, pretending I didn't know these two embarrassing people.
Finally, we made it to the counter. The teller, in a flat voice behind the glass, asked, "How much are you transferring? And who's it for?"
My mom handed over the bankbooks, her hands trembling as she entered the password.
That was their life savings.
Some of it was borrowed from my uncle and aunt, with high interest promised.
My mom pointed at me. "Transfer it to her.
"Erin, remember this money is for paying off your mortgage.
"As soon as it is paid, we are going straight to the land registry. If you try anything funny, I'll kill you."
I gave the teller my account number without expression.