Chapter 5 - THE $9,800 ENVELOPE
He mistook it for surrender.
Eleanor did too.
Valerie began appearing more openly.
One morning, Sarah found her in the apartment wearing slippers near the kitchen island, one hand on her stomach, looking at fabric swatches.
“Eleanor thinks the smaller bedroom gets best light for a nursery,” Valerie said.
Sarah poured coffee.
“Does she?”
Valerie looked uncomfortable but held her ground.
“Arthur wants to be involved.”
“With the baby?”
“Yes.”
“With the rent?”
Valerie blinked.
Sarah sipped her coffee.
“Never mind.”
Valerie’s confidence returned.
“I know this is difficult.”
Sarah smiled.
“You don’t.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Pregnancy?”
“Arthur and me.”
“Those are separate accidents?”
Valerie’s face flushed.
“I love him.”
Sarah set the mug down.
“That is not evidence of character. It’s just a feeling you’re having.”
Valerie’s hand tightened over her stomach.
“Eleanor said you’d be cruel.”
“Eleanor says many things in rooms she doesn’t pay for.”
Valerie went quiet.
She should have listened to that sentence.
She did not.
The moving day was scheduled for a Thursday late morning because Arthur told Sarah he would be at a production meeting and Eleanor had a charity lunch. Sarah intended to remove everything she had purchased, leave the few items that were Arthur’s, and place the envelope on the table.
Inside the envelope:
A copy of the lease showing Arthur as tenant.
A spreadsheet of every rent payment Sarah had made for thirty-one months.
A notice that she had canceled all automatic transfers effective immediately.
A list of utilities and services moved out of her name.
Photos documenting removed property.
A letter from Denise stating Sarah had removed only property purchased by her or her company.
A referral for Arthur to contact the landlord regarding the $9,800 monthly rent due in nine days.
And one final page:
Arthur,
You told me this was our apartment when I paid for it and your apartment when you wanted to move another woman in.
Now it is simply your lease.
Sarah
She did not include divorce papers.
Not yet.
Denise advised separation of legal blows.
“Let him open one door at a time,” she said.
Sarah agreed.
But Arthur came home early.
With Eleanor.
And Valerie.
That was not accidental.
Sarah realized it the moment the elevator opened and all three stepped inside like a family arriving to claim a property after the former tenant had been emotionally evicted.
Arthur carried the sealed envelope she had placed on the table earlier.
He had not opened it.
Of course.
Men like Arthur delay documents that might ask them to become adults.
Eleanor saw the movers first.
Then the empty shelves.
Then the missing sofa.
Then Sarah standing near the dining table with two tan handbags over one shoulder.
“What,” Eleanor said, “have you done?”
Sarah turned.
“I removed what I purchased.”
Valerie’s eyes widened.
Arthur looked around the apartment.
The artwork was gone.
The lamps gone.
The living room rug gone.
The console table gone.
The side chairs gone.
The bar cart gone.
The bedroom furniture, except Arthur’s old dresser, gone.
The nursery Valerie had imagined was now an empty room with nail holes.
Arthur’s face went gray.
“Sarah.”
Eleanor stepped forward.
“You vindictive little climber.”
Sarah looked at her.
“Careful.”
That word had stopped Lorraine types before.
Not Eleanor.
She pointed toward the movers.
“Bring it back.”
The mover looked at Sarah.
Sarah said, “Continue.”
Arthur set the envelope on the dining table.
“Can we talk?”
Sarah looked at Valerie.
“Now?”
Valerie lowered her eyes.
Eleanor’s rage sharpened.
“This is Arthur’s home.”
“Arthur’s lease,” Sarah corrected.
May you like
“You think because you bought a few chairs—”
“I bought everything except his dresser, his clothes, three chipped mugs, and the framed film poster he insists is valuable.”
