Chapter 6
George suddenly laughed.
"Who put these ideas in your head?" he asked.
I didn't answer.
He stepped closer.
"Do you have the memory card?" he asked.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he'd given himself away.
I stepped back inside.
Sasha stood behind me, rolling pin in hand.
"George, if you want pasta, get in line. But if you're here to pick a fight, this rolling pin doesn't care who you are," she said.
George shot Sasha a look and lowered his voice.
"Jennifer, we were married. Just give me the memory card, and I promise I'll make it up to you," George said.
I shot back, "So your idea of making it up to me is just giving me back my own café?"
He gritted his teeth.
"Don't push me."
"What else can you do?"
He looked at me, and whatever warmth was left in his eyes faded away.
He sneered, "Your brother's walking home alone tonight. You might want to keep an eye on him."
Sasha cursed out loud.
I pulled out my phone and opened the voice recorder.
"Say that again," I said.
George turned and walked away.
He reached the end of the alley, then turned back to look at me.
"If you dare show up at the anniversary party, you'll never be able to show your face again," he said.
*****
On the day of the three-year anniversary party, the entrance of Maple Yard Café was lined with flower baskets.
Maya had invited a bunch of local business owners from Oak Street, plus a few regulars who loved taking photos there.
A new banner was hung at the entrance. [Three years through thick and thin—thanks for sticking with us.]
I walked in wearing a shirt that had faded from so many washes.
Someone recognized me.
"She really has the nerve to show up."
"Didn't she say she'd apologize if she didn't have proof?"
"Look at her, empty-handed. Probably gonna cry again."
George was standing in the courtyard, wearing that deep blue robe.
Maya was holding onto his arm, smiling gracefully.
When he saw me, he nodded to someone nearby.
A young guy came over with a tray and deliberately bumped into my shoulder.
Coffee splashed all over me.
My white shirt clung to me, and people around started laughing under their breath.
Maya put a hand over her mouth, pretending to be shocked.
"Jennifer, are you okay? Wade, how could you be so careless?" Maya said.
Wade Perry shrugged carelessly. "She was standing right in the way. I didn't even notice her."
George walked over and handed me a towel. "Wipe yourself off. Once you've apologized to Maya, you can head home."
I didn't take it.
"Where's the proof?" I asked.
He sighed, like he was at his wit's end with me.
Maya pulled out the ownership papers and handed them to a middle-aged woman standing nearby.
"Cara, everyone respects you. Can you check it for us?" Maya said.
Cara opened the papers and read them out loud.
"The shop at No. 18 Willow Lane was transferred from Rodney to George. All the signatures and thumbprints are here," she announced.
Someone immediately chimed in, "Doesn't that settle it?"
George pulled out a few more receipts.
"This is what I spent on renovations, and this is for the workers—I paid for everything myself," he said.
Maya turned to me.
"So, Jennifer, are you going to apologize now?" she asked.
I shot back, "And where's the proof you actually paid for the shop?"
George said, "That was money you lent me."
"Where's the IOU?" I shot back.
He pulled out that IOU I never signed.
"You never signed it because you were trying to squeeze more out of me," he said.
The crowd started jeering and cursing.
"So greedy."
"Now that the café's doing well, she's here to snatch it."
"Poor George, stuck with a woman like her."
Maya shot me a smug, victorious look.
She leaned in close, her voice just for me. "Spending your dad's money was a breeze. While you were scrubbing dishes till your hands were raw, I was chilling in your café, sipping tea. Funny, huh?"
I stared her down.
"Say that again," I said.
She laughed quietly.
"I said, you deserved it," she replied.
George raised his hand, signaling for everyone to quiet down.
"Jennifer, this is your last shot. Apologize, sign the papers, and I'll give you 300 dollars a month to live on," George said.
I said, "George, you claim Rodney handed the shop over to you himself."
"That's right."
"Was he really clear-headed and did it of his own free will?"
"Of course."
"Maya, is that what you say too?"
Maya raised her chin, looking defiant.
"I saw it with my own eyes," she said.
Suddenly, the sound of a cane tapping on the ground echoed from outside the courtyard.
Rodney's caregiver helped him walk in.
His mouth was still twisted, and he spoke slowly.
But he was holding a piece of paper in his hand.
"I didn't do it willingly," Rodney forced out.