“He told people I was violent.”
“You’ve never raised your voice at anyone.”
“Tonight, he wanted me to.”
Marlene looked toward the floor as music thudded below us.
“The dog food.”
“The phone recording,” I said. “They needed a reaction.”
She covered her mouth.
Then she said, “What do you need me to do?”
“Go home. Print copies of everything I sent you. At eight, call every relative who attended tonight and ask them to come back at ten.”
“What should I tell them?”
“Tell them Louis has an announcement about the house.”
For the first time that night, I smiled.
By five in the morning, the house was quiet.
Guests had gone home. Louis and Carla had passed out in their bedroom. Empty bottles covered the kitchen. Frosting was ground into the carpet. Someone had broken one of Lucy’s serving dishes.
I walked downstairs.
The dining room smelled of stale food and spilled alcohol.
My chair was empty.
I sat in it.
The dog bowl remained outside the front door.
I brought it in, washed it carefully, and set it in the center of the table.
Then I brewed coffee.
At seven thirty, Louis stumbled into the kitchen wearing yesterday’s shirt.
He opened the refrigerator, took out orange juice, and drank from the carton.
“Morning,” he mumbled.
“Good morning.”
He stared at me, perhaps surprised I was speaking calmly.
“You over your little mood?”
“What mood?”
“Last night. Carla says you made everyone uncomfortable.”
“I made everyone uncomfortable?”
“You know what I mean. It was a joke.”
“Was the guardianship petition a joke too?”
The carton slipped slightly in his hand.
For one second, the real Louis appeared.
Afraid.
Then he recovered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The home equity line. The senior facility. The fundraiser. The forged signature.”
His face drained of color.
Carla entered behind him in a satin robe.
“What’s going on?”
I looked at her.
“Your card was declined this morning, wasn’t it?”
