“When do you close escrow?” He took a sip of the cappuccino as he listened.
“Tomorrow.”
“Are you kidding? When did you make the deal?”
“Thursday. They accepted my offer. I bought it as is. It needs a lot of work,” she said honestly.
“Jesus, Sarah. That's a headache you don't need. What do you know about fixing up a house?”
“Nothing. I'm going to learn, and I want to do a lot of it myself.”
He rolled his eyes. “You're dreaming. What were you smoking when you decided to do this?”
“Nothing. I admit, it's a little crazy. But it's good crazy. This is my dream.”
“Since when? You didn't even start looking till last week.”
“It was my great-grandparents' house. My grandmother was born there.”
“That's no reason to buy it.” He thought he had never heard anything so stupid in his life, and he didn't know the whole story yet. She was getting there slowly. And he was more skeptical by the minute. “How old is it?”
“My great-grandfather built it in 1923.”
“When was it last remodeled?” he asked, interrogating the witness.
“Never,” Sarah said with a sheepish grin. “Every-thing's original. It's never been touched. I told you it needs a lot of work. I figure it might take me a year. I'm not going to move right away.”
“I hope not. It sounds like you bought yourself a giant headache. It's going to cost you a fortune.” She didn't tell him she had one now, thanks to Stanley Perlman. Phil never asked her about money, nor she him. It was something they each kept to themselves. “How big is it?”
She smiled at Phil. That was the clincher. She almost laughed when she said it. “Thirty thousand square feet.”
“Are you nuts?” He shoved the breakfast tray aside and jumped out of bed. “Have you gone insane? Thirty thousand square feet? What was it? A hotel? It sounds like the fucking Fairmont, for chrissake.”
“It's even prettier,” she said proudly. “I want you to come and see it.”
“Does your mother know you did this?” As though that mattered to either of them. He had never even mentioned her before. He disliked Audrey as much as she did him.
“Not yet. I'll tell them at Christmas dinner. I want to surprise my grandmother. She hasn't seen the house since she was seven.”
“I don't know what's gotten into you,” he said, glaring at her. “You're behaving like a lunatic. You've been acting weird for weeks. You don't just go out and buy a house like that, unless you bought it as an investment, and you're going to sell it for a profit, after you redo it, but even that doesn't make sense. You don't have time to take on a project like that. You work as hard as I do. You're a lawyer, for chrissake, not a contractor or a decorator. What are you thinking?”
“I have more spare time than you do,” she said demurely. She was tired of his being insulting about it, and about her. She wasn't asking him to pay for it. He acted as though she was, which was hardly the case.
“Really? How do you figure you have more spare time? Last I heard, you were working fourteen-hour days.”
“I don't go to the gym. That gives me free evenings five days a week. And I can work on it on weekends.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” he asked, looking outraged. “Twiddle my thumbs while you wash windows and sand floors?”
“You could help. You're never here in the daytime on weekends anyway, Phil. You always end up doing your own thing.”
“That's bullshit and you know it. I just can't believe you would do something this stupid. And you're going to live in a house that size?”
“It's gorgeous. Wait till you see it.” She was offended by everything he'd said, and hurt by the way he said it. If he had bothered to look, he'd have seen it in her eyes. He didn't. He was too busy putting her down. “It even has a ballroom,” she said quietly.
“Great. You can rent it out to Arthur Murray, and maybe pay for the repairs. Sarah, I think you're nuts,” he said, and sat down on the bed again.
“Apparently. Thanks for being so supportive.”
“At this point in our lives, everything is about simplifying things. Going smaller. Having less. Being less involved. Who needs a headache like that? You have no idea what you're getting into.”
“Yes, I do. I spent four hours with the architect on Thursday night.”
“So that's where you were.” He sounded smug, and relieved. He had actually been worried about it for two days. It was why he had taken her out to dinner the night before. “You've already hired an architect? You didn't waste any time, did you? And thanks for asking for my advice.”
“I'm glad I didn't, if this is what you would have said.”
“You must have money to burn. I had no idea your firm was doing that well.” She didn't comment on that. How she had gotten the money was none of his business. She had no intention of explaining it to him.
“Let me tell you something, Phil,” she said, with an edge in her voice. “You may be ‘simplifying,’ as you put it, and ‘going small.’ I'm not. You've been married, you have kids, you've had a big house. You've had all that. I haven't. I haven't done any of it. I've been living in this crappy apartment since I passed the bar, with the same shit furniture I had when I left Harvard. I don't even have a goddamned plant. And maybe I want big, and beautiful, and something exciting to do. I'm not going to sit here for the rest of my life with a bunch of dead plants, waiting for you to show up on weekends.”
“What are you saying?” His voice got louder, and so did hers.
“I'm saying that this is exciting for me. I can't wait to do it. I love it. And if you can't get behind it, or be supportive of me, or even polite, for chrissake, then to hell with you. I'm not asking you to pay for it, or even help me. All you have to do is smile and nod and encourage me a little. Is that so fucking hard for you to do?” He didn't answer her for a long moment, and then got up and stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. She had hated everything about his reaction, and she had no idea why he was doing that to her. Maybe he was jealous, or threatened, or hated change. Whatever it was, it wasn't nice, or even pretty to watch.
When he came out of the bathroom, with his hair wet, wrapped in a towel, she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. She looked at him sadly. There was nothing gracious or kind about anything he'd said. He'd been just plain mean.
“I'm sorry I wasn't happy for you about your house,” he said grimly. “I just think it's a really bad idea. I'm worried for you.”
“Don't be. If it's too much for me to handle, I'll sell it. But I'd at least like to try. Do you want to see it?”
“Not really,” he said honestly, as she looked at him. It was all about control. He liked the status quo, and didn't want anything to change. Ever. He wanted her here in this apartment, which he was familiar with, at home on weekday nights, so he knew where she was. He wanted her sad, lonely, and bored, while she waited for him to show up two nights a week, just as she had said to him. She had never seen it as clearly. He didn't want her to have any excitement in her life, even if she paid for it herself. That wasn't the point. He wanted his independence and freedom, but he couldn't deal with hers. “I'll just get mad if I see it,” he said honestly. “I've never heard such a stupid thing in my life. I'm playing tennis today anyway.” He glanced at his watch. “I'm late, thanks to you.”
She didn't say a word. She went into the bathroom and closed the door. She sat down on the toilet and burst into tears. And when she came out twenty minutes later, he was gone. He had left her a note, saying he'd be back at six. “Thanks for a great Saturday,” she said, as she read the note. Things were just getting worse. It was as though he wanted to see how far he could push her. But she wasn't ready to let go yet. She thought of what Jeff Parker had said, as she put the dishes in the sink but didn't wash them. And she didn't make the bed. She didn't care anymore. What was the point? He really was an asshole. Nothing he had said that morning showed any respect for her. Or even kindness. Saying he loved her meant nothing if this was how he behaved. She remembered Jeff asking her the other night what it would take for her to let go, and she had told him she wasn't sure. Whatever it was, Phil was getting close. He was crossing boundaries he never had before.