“Even the writ?” I wasn’t convinced.
“Well, your grandfather wasn’t…” Chris seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Which was a good thing. I was at the end of my last nerve and knew I wouldn’t deal well with someone accusing Pops. “Let’s say, he had a lapse in judgment.”
He was right. Completely right. “That happened after the writ was filed. You’re definitely not wrong about the Oberons. We do have a habit of speaking our minds at precisely the wrong time.”
“Well, the right times, too. You should hear your father’s speeches. He’s an amazing orator.”
The best I could muster was a lame smile. Pride swelled my heart, yet at the same time, pain pricked it. I’d only “heard” my father once, ever. That had been weeks ago on my birthday when he called me. I wanted to hear more—lots more. Like how everything got so messed up in my life. Surely, once he knew about Gran and Pops, he’d do something. He’d have to.
Chris parked his trannie in front of my building, “I’ll walk you up.”
“You don’t need to,” I said.
“Where are we?” Wei mumbled from the backseat, where she had been sleeping.
“Go back to sleep,” Chris said. “And you, Nina—humor me.” He bounded out of the multi, raced around, and opened my door before I could say okay. Bowing low, his eyes twinkling, he stretched out his hand. “Madam.”
When I placed my hand in his, I felt some of his strength flow into me. A smile tugged the corners of my lips, and I gladly went along with his silliness. It was the perfect touch of humor to lighten my mood. “Thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure.”
Placing my hand on the recognition pad, I said, “Nina Oberon and guest.” Chris put his face next to mine for the ID.
“Proceed to your apartment at once,” an automated voice intoned. “Important notification posted at eleven-thirty p.m.”
“What’s that about?” Chris cocked his head.
“I have no idea. We’d better go up there before I pick up Dee from Harriet’s.”
I paced around the elport while Chris tried to calm me down. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably a change in procedure of some sort.”
The message screen by the apartment door was flashing. I pressed it and a paper slid out. Bolded across the top, it said: NOTICE OF EVICTION.
“What?” I slumped against the wall for support. “How could this happen?”
Chris cupped my elbow. “Let’s get inside.”
My hands were shaking as I pressed in the code. “Why would they evict us? We haven’t done anything wrong. The rent goes straight from Pops’s pension to the building fund.”
Once we were inside, Chris let out a low whistle. “Wei said B.O.S.S. paid you a visit. This is their version of home decorating?”
“Yeah.” I saw Pops’s ginger tin on the floor, open, dented, and bits of candied ginger were scattered everywhere. I knelt down and started picking up the pieces. It was the only thing I could think to do.
Chris squatted beside me. “We should look at this notice,” he said gently.
He helped me up and sat next to me on the sofa. Our legs were touching. Oddly, that was comforting.
“‘Dear Mrs. Oberon,’” he read. “‘Due to the subversive activity of Mr. Oberon—’”
“My dad? They don’t know he’s—” Chris clapped his hand over my mouth, shaking his head.
Surveillance. Pops’s arrest was undeniable proof B.O.S.S. had us under surveillance.
“Dead. He’s dead.”
“Okay.” Chris scanned the paper. “It says here that because of your grandfather’s recent arrest, the building management is giving you, your grandmother, and Dee twenty-four hours to vacate the premises.”
I stared at the marks on the paper, unable to focus on the fact that they made words. “Twenty-four hours? Where will we go?” A shiver ran down my spine. I pictured Dee and me, homeless, like Joan, eating out of garbage cans, wearing rags, always cold. And Gran. Where would she go when she got out of the hospital? I was so deep in my misery that I hardly noticed Chris making a call on his PAV.
He clicked off. “It’s settled. Mom said all of you are going to live at our house. At least until this business with your grandfather is straightened out and your grandmother is healthy again. So where’s your room? Let’s get you enough things to see you through tonight. You want to get Dee’s things, too? Then we’ll stop by your neighbors’ and get her.”
I pulled myself together. It was no time for me to fall apart, even if I was exhausted, emotionally and physically. So much had happened in less than twenty-four hours. Pops, Gran, and now this. But—I wasn’t helpless. I wasn’t alone. I had friends, friends who were helping me.
And now I had a focus. “How about you go get Dee while I pack some things. Harriet Pace is in D14. I’ll call and tell her you’re coming.” Chris took off and I called Harriet, telling her that we had been evicted, and explaining the plan, and trying not to get sucked into the rabbit hole of grief that threatened to envelop me. “Yes, Dee knows Chris. He’s a good friend. We’ll be fine. I’ll be sure to call you tomorrow from the hospital and let you know how Gran is doing.”
I started gathering a few things from the mess in the living room—a digi of Ginnie and my dad, and Pops’s ginger tin.
The door opened, and Chris and Dee came in. “I told Dee what was going on,” Chris said. “Hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” I hugged Dee. “Deeds. You okay?”
“I’m tired.” She pressed against me. “Gran’s going to be okay, isn’t she?”
“Uh-huh.” As if I knew.
“And Pops. You’ll get Pops out on Monday, won’t you?” She gazed up at me.
I threw Chris a look of complete despair. Pops’s hearing. “I’ll do my best.”
“You know,” he said, “there isn’t a lot we can do right now, except sleep. Let’s get your stuff, and we can talk tomorrow about what to do. Want me to help you get some things together, Dee?”
After Ginnie’s death, we’d had six days to vacate the modular we’d been living in. Because Dee and I didn’t have much, it had been relatively easy. Gran and Pops had come and helped us move. This time wouldn’t be much different. While Chris and Dee were in Dee’s room, I stuffed a bag with the finds from the living room, my art supplies, and most of my clothes. We met back in the living room.
“What are we going to do about this?” I waved my arms at the mess of things. “We can’t get all of it now. And the big things…”
“Nina, let me see the eviction notice again.” Chris took the notice from me and scanned it quickly. “Damn. Everything has to be out by six p.m. Tomorrow.” He rubbed his chin. “Okay. I’ll come back early with a couple of friends. We’ll pack everything up and get stuff moved. Mom’s putting you guys in the downstairs apartment, the one my sister Angie and her husband didn’t want. It’s furnished, but we can move whatever you don’t need into storage to make room for your stuff.”
“That won’t be much,” I said. “All the furniture belongs to the building. Except for Pops’s chair and my bed, we hardly have anything.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. We’ll move it all, and then when your grandmother is feeling up to it, she can make the decisions of what to keep.” He took Dee’s bag. “You ready?”