“What’s that?” said Lily emerging from the bathroom, retrieving her glass, pouring herself more Scotch.
“It’s a letter Simonova left for you. In the box under the tree.”
“One of her games?”
“I don’t know.”
“Read it to me.”
“You sure?”
“Of course.” She downed the Scotch.
I put on my glasses and Lily laughed.
“How come everybody laughs at my glasses?”
“Who’s everybody?”
“I saw Sonny this morning?”
“How is he?”
“Lonely.”
“We’re old now, Artie. We’ll be old people soon.”
“I plan to be old Russian guy, I drink borscht, I play chess on beach,” I said, putting off reading the letter that I knew would scare her.
“Russia,” she said. “You still feel it, Artie? You still can’t let go.” She put her arms around me. “Go on with the letter,” Lily added. “You already read it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then go on.”
I read. “ ‘My dear Lily, You have been more kind to me than anyone I know in this country. You are a true comrade.’ You want me to read all the flourishes? All the ways you helped her and how you are a true revolutionary sister?”
“Not right now,” Lily said.
“So, let’s see, she just adds again that you understood her, you understood the cause.”
“I know you’re holding back. Can we cut to the chase?”
“OK. First of all, she left you a lot of stuff in the storage room, including the Christmas ornaments I found there.”
“That’s nice,” said Lily. “I don’t think that’s why you look so weird, though, Artie.”
“ ‘Comrade, Lily’-this is how she now addresses you,” I said. “ ‘I leave to you all my money, and my jewelry. I have not had the moment to make this legal, but so I write letter to you. There are jewelry of my mother in apartment, also money in bank box.’ Then there’s a lot more stuff about you, how grateful she was, stuff like that. There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“She left you her apartment. Free and clear.” I took my glasses off and held out the letter. Lily backed away.
“No.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want her fucking stuff. What’s the date on the letter?”
I looked at it. “There isn’t a date.”
“Good, that’s good. It can’t be legal then.”
“I don’t know.”
Lily was shaking. Her mood had changed again. She was frightened.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want the place where Marianna died. There’s a will anyway, you’ll see. It will be different. This is just some old woman trying to be nice. Or playing a trick on me.”
“You think there’s a will?”
“I know there is. I know it. She mentioned it.”
“Did she have a safe-deposit box?”
“She had an account at a bank on 125th Street. I went with her once.”
“She gave you a key to the box?”
“Yes. You can fix this, anyway, can’t you? You can get in her box somehow. Tomorrow? Even if it’s Sunday? We can do it tomorrow, OK, Artie?”
“I’ll try.”
“Just tear up the letter, OK?”
“I’ll keep it for you.”
“Right, keep it. Keep the money, the apartment, whatever.”
“You can sell it,” I said. “You can give the money to something you care about. Sell it to Carver Lennox.”
“I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction,” she said. “He nagged Marianna all the time. ‘Sell it to me, dear,’ he’d say to her, and it upset her; it was her home. Hers is one of the biggest apartments on the floor, and he’s been desperate to get it.”
“How does he act with you?”
“Who?”
“Lennox?”
“He’s fine with me; I’m the kind of yuppie, as he sees it, he wants here. You know-Vassar grad, good job, fancy friends. He once says to me in the elevator, ‘What a marvelous coat, Lily.’ Asshole. I mean, I played along because I live here for now. Also he gave a truckload of money to Obama.”
“So he’s been harassing people?”
“In his very cool way. I heard someone say it killed Mr. Washington back then.”
“What did? You didn’t mention that.”
“The idea of losing his apartment. I think he just gave up.”
“Who owns it now?”
“His estate. Some kind of probate problem was involved. Lennox is crazy to get it.”
“Is that why you don’t want Simonova’s apartment? You’re worried about Lennox?”
“Of course not. I just don’t want anything from her. Just wait,” said Lily, and disappeared into the bathroom. When she came back-it must have been at least five minutes-she was calmer. Maybe she had taken something.
“Is Washington’s apartment empty?”
“Yes.”
“Which floor?”
“The ninth floor,” said Lily, as her phone rang.
When she walked away from me, phone in hand, I knew Radcliff was on the other end, and from what I could tell, he was on his way over to see her.
“Come downtown with me,” I said to Lily when she had finished her call. “You’ll feel better away from here.”
“No, Artie. I can’t do that,” she said. “What? You think somebody will find out Marianna left me her apartment and they’ll do something bad to me to get it? Lennox isn’t that crazy.” She straightened up. “To hell with it. I’m tired of feeling scared. I’m going to change for the party. I want to look nice. It’s been a long day. I just need a little time, clear my head. I’ll meet you at the party later.”
“One more thing.”
“Not now, Artie,” she said, as the doorbell rang and she went to answer it.
It was Virgil Radcliff. He shed his jacket, and accepted a drink from Lily.
“That tastes great,” he said. “Everything OK?”
“Yes,” said Lily. “It’s fine.”
“Thanks, Artie, for being here,” said Virgil. “Thank you.”
He’ll be gone Wednesday, I thought. He’ll be in California. Just fuck off.
As I went to the door, I noticed the way Radcliff put his hand lightly on Lily’s sleeve. The way she looked at him. They were connected. They were a couple.
