Spirit of the Place (9781101617021) Read Online Free PDF Page B

around Selma.
    In the past few years Milt had been less an accountant and more, in his words, “a man in development.” He was making money, and money was making him. Bald, with a half-smile resting on his moon-face that widened to a laugh, making his eyes happy slits and his big head roll this way and that in wonderment at life’s riches, Milt now seemed happy. Finally, Orville thought, the wolf of failure has been driven from his door. Here before me is a success. Dealing all his life with a sense of his own failure, Orville now looked at Milt with an electric fascination, asking himself, How the fuck has he done it? What the hell has happened to the concept of America as a meritocracy?
    The terms of Selma’s will had a certain elegance. Half went to Penny. The other half, and the family house and car, went to Orville.
    There was a catch.
    Orville got the money, the house, and the car only if he lived in the house continuously for one year and thirteen days, starting on the day he arrived home. “Why the extra thirteen days?” he asked Penny and Milt. No one knew. The house was a nineteenth-century Victorian sitting on Courthouse Square in the town center. The car was an elephantine ’81 Chrysler New Yorker—“The biggest Chrysler makes,” Milt said. “Your trunk space is amazing.”
    Staring down at his sister and brother-in-law from the vinyl runner, Orville said, “Live
here?
Live
here?”
    â€œWe do.”
    â€œI’d die in a month. It’s blackmail. How could she do this to me?”
    â€œI believe, Orville Abraham,” Penny said, “she did it out of love.”
    â€œDid you know about this?”
    â€œNo. It was news to me too.”
    â€œAnd if I leave?”
    â€œYou get nothing.”
    â€œWho gets my almost-mil?”
    Penny looked to Milt. Milt looked to Penny.
    â€œ
All
of it? The whole other almost-mil? You get my mil?”
    â€œNowadays,” Milt said, “a mil doesn’t go all that far.”
    â€œLet me be clear,” Penny said. “We’d rather have you here than have your money. Right, Milt?”
    â€œOh, sure,” Milt said. “Sure, sure. You’re family. Sure.”
    â€œAnd if I go, what happens to the house?”
    â€œIt sits there empty for a year and thirteen days,” Penny said. “It can’t be sold or rented. Then Milt and I get it and we can sell it.”
    â€œAnd the car, too,” Milt said. “The New Yorker.”
    â€œThe house just sits there empty for a year?”
    â€œHayley keeps cleaning it and Buzzy keeps fixing it.”
    â€œNo dice. I’ll stay out the week, to see you guys and Amy.”
    â€œNo, you won’t,” Penny said.
    â€œWhat do you mean I won’t?”
    â€œAmy’s away at drama camp. Her first overnight camp and it’s
killing
me!” Penny took out a hankie, started to cry. “I will not let you see her unless you’re staying.”
    â€œShe’s my niece! She’s my special—“
    â€œShe’s my daughter, and I will not subject her to your comings and goings at this time of our grief. You know how close she was to Mom. I mean, she’s taking it well—sometimes I think she’s the most mature one in the whole family—but when we couldn’t even find you, she got that look in her eye and said, ‘It’s like Orvy’s dead, too.’ She’s doing okay at camp, but it just about killed me between not having Mom anymore and your not answering my telegram and calls and sending her off. . . .” Penny blew her nose, an astounding
hroonnnk!
She looked up at Orville and said, “I figured you’d say no to this. But this time, for once, I’m being smart. I’m cutting my losses.”
    â€œWait. After we spoke last night—you didn’t even
tell
Amy that you’d found me?”
    â€œIf you had a child, you would