“Bravo, Bill. Of course you came here for money, Mir. You always do.”
“Not this time.”
“What then?” Ellie asked, watching as Bill picked up a music box from a small dressing table.
“I want to move back home.”
Ellie stopped stringing marshmallows. Bill set the music box down.
Don’t give in, Ellie, he prayed silently.
“No,” Ellie said, and went back to work on her necklace. Bill’s sigh of relief was audible.
“Ellie, please. I’m your sister.”
“I’ll buy you a place to live.”
“I want to live here.”
“Why?”
“It’s in the will. I can live here if I want to.”
Ellie looked up. “We had an agreement.”
Miriam glanced nervously toward Bill, then said, “It’s my home, too, you know. You’ve allowed a perfect stranger to live here. Well, I don’t deserve any less.”
“Why do you want to come back, Mir? You haven’t lived here in years.”
“I think it’s time we grew closer as sisters, that’s all.”
Ellie only laughed at that. Bill was heartened by the laughter. Ellie was protective of Miriam, held a soft spot for her despite her abuses. But if that sister plea didn’t get through to her, maybe there was a chance…
“Look, you’ve been living up here in grand style,” Miriam said petulantly, “and I just want to enjoy a bit of it myself.”
Bill saw Ellie’s mood shifting, saw her glancing over at him. He felt awkwardness pulling ahead of his curiosity by a nose. He decided to leave this discussion to the sisters. It was Ellie’s house, after all. She could do as she liked. He started to edge out of the room, but Ellie said, “This concerns you, too, Bill. Don’t leave.”
He wasn’t put off by what others might have taken to be a commanding tone. In seven years, he had never heard the word “please” come out of her mouth. Although he thought of few things as certain when it came to Ellie, one certainty was that she rarely asked anything of others. Knowing this, he treated any request as if there were an implied “please.”
“This isn’t his house!” Miriam shouted.
“Lower your voice. He is my guest and welcomed here.”
Bill turned away, forced himself to look again at the objects on the dressing table.
Ellie went on. “You spent all of your inheritance in less than two years, Mir. Grandfather knew you were like our parents.”
Bill knew this part of the story. Their grandfather had raised the girls after their parents-wild, spoiled and reckless, according to Ellie-were killed in a car wreck. While Miriam received a large inheritance, Ellie’s grandfather had left the house and most of his money to Ellie, thinking Miriam too much like his late daughter.
“Don’t start speaking ill of the dead,” Miriam protested to Ellie.
“All right, I won’t. But the fact remains…”
“That you’ve made money and I’ve lost all of mine. Don’t rub it in, Ellie. Now I’ve even lost the condo.”
“I know.”
“You know? Then you understand why I want to live here.”
“Not really. But forget living here. I’ll help you buy a home, free and clear. But this time, I’ll keep the title so that you can’t mortgage it endlessly.”
“I want to live here. This is my home!”
“Fine. Then you won’t get another dime from me.”
Bill watched in the dressing table mirror as Miriam swallowed hard, then lifted her chin. “All right, if that’s what you want to do. My bags are in the car. Harry can pick up the rest of my things-”
“No!” Ellie interrupted sharply, clenching her hands, smushing part of her marshmallow necklace. She shook her head, then said more calmly, “You won’t badger that man. I swear you won’t be allowed to live here if you do. I’ll sell this place first.”
“All right, all right. I won’t cause trouble, Ellie. You’ll see. I’ll even bring my cook and housekeeper with me. That will save Harry a lot of work.”
Bill was hardly paying attention by then. He was nettled. So nettled, he didn’t offer to help Miriam with her bags as she left the room. He kept his back to Ellie, pretending to caught up in the game again.
My guest. It was accurate enough, he supposed. Not “my lover”. Not “my friend.” Not “the man I want to spend my life with.” My guest. He picked up the music box again.
“You’ve got a burr under your saddle, Bill. What is it?”
He ignored her for a moment, lifting the lid of music box. It played “The Merry Widow Waltz.”
He heard Ellie sigh behind him. “I’m not happy about it, either, “she said, “but there’s nothing I can do. Perhaps having Miriam here won’t be so bad.”
He closed the lid of the music box. “Shadow of a Doubt,” he said, and schooled his features into a smile before turning toward her. “Thank you for all the effort, Ellie. It’s always an amusing game.”
She looked puzzled. He hadn’t fooled her, of course. Belatedly he realized that she must have watched him in the mirror. But if she could be obstinate, well, by damn, so could he. He excused himself and left the room.
As he paid the tab in a bar that evening, Bill had to acknowledge that the slight had escalated into silent warfare, and much of it was probably his fault. He had not yet managed to tell Ellie how she had given offense. In one moment, it seemed of so little importance that he was ashamed of himself for thinking about it at all. In the next moment, it seemed to stand as a perfect symbol for everything that was wrong between them. There were several drinks between moments. But in the end, he had firmly resolved to talk to her, not to let one comment ruin all that they had shared until then.
Bill looked up to see a familiar figure coming toward him. Not the one he most wanted to see, but close enough. Harry had come to fetch him.
“Did she send you for me, Harry?” Bill asked, allowing Harry to lead him outside.
“No, sir.”
“You came on your own?” he asked in surprise. Harry had never indicated approval of Bill, a lack Bill took to mean disapproval.
“No, sir,” Harry replied, but Bill noticed that the old man actually seemed a little embarrassed to admit it. Harry gently guided him into the back seat of the Rolls.
Bill waited until Harry got into the car. He felt as if he might be sick, but he fought it off. “Why’d you come after me?” he persisted.
“Miss Miriam suggested it. She has many suggestions, sir.”
Bill signaled him to wait, opened the door and spared the upholstery.
Harry drove him home, windows down. But even over the long ride, Bill had sobered little. He made it into the house under his own steam, and began the climb the stairs. He swayed a bit as he reached for the bedroom doorknob, twisted it, and found it locked. He stared at it in his hand, as if somehow he were just doing it wrong, this simple act of opening a door.
Harry came in then, and quietly coming up the stairs, asked in a whisper if Bill might need some assistance. Bill was hanging on to the knob, staring dumbly at the door. Harry reached and tried the knob, then murmured, “It’s locked, sir. Perhaps…” but his voice broke off as they heard another door open.
Miriam, clad in a nightgown that seemed to offer little difference from sleeping in the nude, smiled and called out, “Ellie left some things for you outside the bedroom off your office downstairs. I guess you’re in the dog house tonight, Billy Boy.”
“You seem happy to hear it,” Bill said, trying to stand up straight. Having this greedy woman in the household would sorely try him. Harry stepped aside as Miriam came closer. Miriam tried to put an arm around Bill, giggling when he clumsily pushed her hand from his waist. She stepped back.
“Why do you two stay together?” she asked. “Ellie doesn’t seem interested. I could see why you tried to win her over at first, but now-well, why bother? You’ve got plenty of money. Most women would consider you quite a catch.”