Edge of Darkness (18 page)

Ember sat there staring at Marguerite in disbelief. Her money problems were over?

Over?

“Exactly how much are we talking here?”

Marguerite leaned over and pointed to a line near the bottom of the top page of the sheaf of documents. Ember squinted at it, sure she wasn’t reading it right. She leaned closer, peering, her mouth half open, until the numbers wavering on the page cleared and even upside down made sense.

With an audible
humph
, Ember collapsed back into her chair.

“That can’t be right,” she said weakly, disbelieving. “That’s ten times what it’s worth. Twenty! And in this economy…who in their right mind…”

She trailed off, her brain suddenly blank.

“Well, my dear,” Marguerite said brightly, “like I always say, never look a gift horse in the mouth!”

As if squeezed out by a giant, invisible hand that had clamped around her chest, all the air left Ember’s lungs.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth.
Asher had said those exact words to her—when Dante had told her not to worry about the rent.

Marguerite produced a pen from her handbag and held it out. “Just sign it, September, and let’s all be done with it. You and I both know what a mistake it was for your father to open that store—he was as much a businessman as I am a kangaroo. The two of us have equal share in it and I’ve already signed, so all you have to do is—”

Ember shoved back her chair so abruptly it toppled over behind her, startling the waiter who had come to check if they needed anything else, and the Tweedies, who had gone back to ignoring her but once again choked on their food.

“No.”

Marguerite’s face went white. Turtle-like, her head stretched forward on her neck as if she didn’t quite hear it, or couldn’t quite believe it. She quietly repeated, “No?”

There was a fault line running under Ember’s life, an almost invisible crack slowly and surely gaining pressure year after year. The mounting friction had recently risen to a dangerously high level. One tiny thing could trigger a seismic event that would topple everything in her world, and for the first time she realized what a tightrope she’d been walking—how close she was to losing the only thing she had left, control—in the blink of an eye.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth
.

Ember knew with crystalline clarity who her gift horse was.

She turned and ran from the restaurant, leaving a gaping Marguerite and the Tweedies behind.

“Dante?” Ember called through his apartment door as she knocked. “Are you home?”

He was; the sound of shuffling feet alerted her first, then he appeared wearing a plaid robe, black socks and a smile. “Ah,
la hermosa Americana!
Buenos dias, como estas?
”

“
Bien, gracias
. But English, remember?”

“Oh!” His hand flew to cover his mouth. “
Si!
I mean yes!” He straightened his toupee, adopted a strange pose with his hands on his hips and one leg stuck out like it was broken, then in the most terrible John Wayne impersonation she had ever heard, drawled, “How’s it hangin’, pilgrim?”

That stunned her into silence for a moment. When she recovered enough to speak, she asked, “Dante, why haven’t you asked for my rent again yet?”

His smile died a quick death. “Er, I, ah
…
I told you…don’t worry about it—”

“Don’t worry about it because it’s already been paid, you mean?”

He sucked his lips between his teeth like someone had just stuck a lemon in his mouth.

“Dante,” she warned, “don’t lie to me.”

His nose wrinkled. He blew out a lip-flapping breath, then made a very Gallic shrug, which looked as if it translated to,
you got me
.

Already knowing the answer, Ember asked, “Who paid my rent, Dante?”

He looked left. He looked right. He looked back at her and said, “I can’t tell you,
hermosa
. That was part of the deal.”

Ember passed a hand over her face. So—it was true. “We’re changing the deal, Dante. I’m going to pay you for this month and you’re going to give the money back to whoever paid it.”

Christian, of course.

But Dante was already shaking his head no. “
Lo siento
, but…that is not possible.”

She could tell by the look on his face that Dante was very serious. He would not be taking her money this month. Well, fine, she’d just repay Christian directly then, after telling him in no uncertain terms to butt out of her financial problems.

“All right, Dante, forget it. But don’t do anything like this again. The rent is
my
obligation, okay? Don’t ever take money from anyone but
me
for my rent.”

He began to look worried. Hesitantly, he said, “Ah…
si
…”

Ember crossed her arms over her chest. “Out with it.”

There was some fidgeting, some lip-chewing, a little toupee adjustment, then Dante said with regret, “That might present
un pequeño problema.
”

Ember’s left eyebrow slid up. “And why would me paying my own rent be a problem?”

He debated silently for a moment, looking at her with a hesitant expression, as if undecided if he were allowed to tell her something or not. Finally he sighed. “Because technically—that is the correct word, yes?—technically you don’t
have
any more rent.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

No.

Ember said carefully, “Dante, please tell me you’re not saying my rent has been paid for the year?”

Immediately, he brightened. “No! Your rent has not been paid for the year!”

She heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God. You really scared me for a minute—”

“Your rent has been paid
forever!
”

He was smiling brightly as he said this, and flung his arms out in a “ta da!” gesture. Ember just stared at him, uncomprehending.

“What does that mean, exactly?” she said through numb lips.

His smile faded. His arms dropped to his sides. “No more rent for you,
hermosa
. As long as you live in this building, you never pay rent again. This is very good, yes?”

Ember’s face had gone red, she knew it by the heat spreading over her cheeks and ears. “No, Dante this is
not
very good! How could you take money from someone else when the rental contract is between you and me?”

He stared at her as if she were insane. “This doesn’t change your contract—and there’s nothing in the contract that says I can’t take money from anyone else for payment of your rent.”

“You have to return all the money, Dante.”

He laughed at that, a big, belly-clutching laugh that had the heat in her cheeks spreading to the roots of her hair. “Ha ha! I love this American sense of humor!
Muy divertido!
”

“Dante! I’m not kidding!
No es broma!
You have to return all the money, I don’t accept!”

It took a while for Dante to stop laughing, but when he finally did, he said, “Ah,
hermosa
. So proud. He said you’d be too proud to like this.”

“And who is this
he
?” Ember asked, knowing exactly who he was, but wanting to hear Dante admit it out loud.

He shrugged again. “I cannot say. But I don’t think it would be breaking my contract with him to say that I think he knows you very well.”

Ember sputtered, “Your
contract?
With
him?
”

He peered at her. “This was a substantial amount of money,
hermosa
. Do you think there would not be a contract for so much money?” He began to tick off a list on his fingers. “It covers what happens if you move out, if the building burns down, if it’s bought by someone else, if you die—”

Ember gasped. “If I die! Jesus Christ, Dante!”

Dante was unfazed by her outburst. “It is no good cursing at me—I just sign the thing and take the money. This friend of yours is a very good business man,
hermosa
. He asked me what I wanted to do in case you ever moved out—where the rest of the money should go, because the rent is paid up for a very, very long time. Longer than you would ever live,
hermosa
. And I told him: to the charity for the cystic fibrosis. So it can help other little girls like my granddaughter Clare. So, you live here as long as you want—your whole life if you want—and if anything happens in the meantime the rest of the money gets put to good use.” His brow furrowed. “This is correct—put to good use?”

Ember sat down on the stairs outside Dante’s door, put her head into her hands, and groaned. From between her fingers, she saw Dante’s sock-covered feet shuffle forward until he was standing right over her. He said in Spanish, “Let me tell you something.”

She uncovered her face and looked at him. He said sternly, “Do not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Ember felt like groaning again. Instead she put her head back into her hands and sighed.

Dante went on, “This is not something you give back. This isn’t a pair of earrings, Ember. This gift is big—very big—something most people would weep with joy over. You…” She felt his disapproving look. “You act like somebody just died. This is wrong thinking. I know you’re a smart girl and I know your father was a good man—he brought you up right, God bless his soul. So what you should do is tell this man—and I have not told you who it is, understand?—tell this man that you are very happy and grateful, and see if there is something you can do to make him happy and grateful in return.”

Ember lifted her head and peered at him with narrowed eyes. He grinned down at her, wiggling his eyebrows. Switching to English, he pronounced, “He is rich, smart, generous, and well-mannered. And I am no Asher, but even I will admit this friend of yours is
muy masculino
—any woman should be glad to have a man like this.”

Then he folded his arms across his chest and nodded in satisfaction, as if he’d just finished a commencement speech. Ember wanted to shout, “Yes, he’s amazing, except for one little thing: HE’S NOT HUMAN!”

Instead she put her head back into her hands.

“Ember?”

She looked up at the sound of Clare’s voice to find her standing in the doorway of Dante’s apartment, looking wan and tired in a flowered nightgown. A plastic tube was hooked over her ears and fitted beneath her nose, delivering oxygen from a small metal tank on wheels she dragged behind her. In one arm she clutched the largest teddy bear Ember had ever seen; it was almost as big as she was.

“Hi, honey,” Ember said gently. She knew instinctively Clare had gotten worse since they’d met. She glanced at Dante and a look passed between them:
act normal
. “It’s nice to see you, Clare.”

Clare smiled at her, a true smile, wide and happy, and Ember felt a squeeze inside her chest.

“I have to go back to the hospital tomorrow,” Clare said, matter-of-factly. “My bugs are getting bad again.”

The squeeze tightened. Bugs—she meant the infection in her lungs. Ember and Dante shared another look
.

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“I’m not,” said Clare, resting her head against the fluffy bear’s. “I get to see all my friends there again. Nurse Montoya is really nice, and so is my doctor. She’s a lady doctor—if I ever become a lady I want to be a doctor, too. She helps a lot of people. That would be cool.”

If I ever become a lady. Translated: if I live long enough to grow up.

Oh God.

Swallowing her horror, Ember asked, “Can you take your bear to the hospital with you?”

Clare brightened. “Yes! Isn’t he cool? His name is Peter Parker!”

“She likes the Spider-Man,” said Dante, stroking her hair. She looked up at him and smiled wider, and Ember had to look away for a moment because she thought she might start to cry.

Why was life so cruel and unfair? Why would God inflict something like this on such a beautiful, innocent little girl?

Because there is no God, Ember. There is only chaos, and suffering. You of all people should know that.

Ember shoved that terrible thought aside and smiled at Clare and Peter Parker. “He’s beautiful. I’ve never seen such a big teddy bear before.”

“Christian gave him to me,” Clare announced, and Dante stiffened. His hand on her head stilled. He shot a fraught glance at Ember, but she ignored it, concentrating on what Clare had said.

“Christian?” she repeated slowly.

Clare nodded. “My
abuelito
’s new friend. He’s my friend, too. He said little girls should always have a best friend they can tell all their secrets to, and since I spend so much time in the hospital I don’t really get to have so many friends. So he gave me Peter Parker so I could talk to him if I ever got lonely.” She cocked her head and looked at Ember, her expression now very serious. “I don’t ever get lonely, though. I have Roberto and my
abuelito
and Bieber my dog. And God. I talk to Him, too.”

There was a winch slowly tightening around Ember’s chest, closing her throat and causing her stomach to flatten. Behind her eyes she felt the hot prick of tears but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to smile.

“Does God talk back?”

Clare said, “All the time.”

“And what does He say?”

Clare smiled a smile then of such loveliness and innocence it literally stole Ember’s breath. She said, “He says I shouldn’t be afraid. So I’m not, because God can’t lie.”

She couldn’t look at Dante. If she did, Ember knew she would burst into tears. She simply whispered, “That’s good, honey. I’m glad you’re not afraid.”

In a gentle voice cracking with emotion, Dante said to Clare, “Inside now,
gordita
, back to bed. You should be resting.”

“Okay,” replied Clare, turning away. Then she turned back, slowly walked to Ember and hugged her. Into her ear, Clare said softly, “You shouldn’t be afraid either. I asked God to watch out for you because you seem really sad, and He said He would.”

That did it. Tears welled in Ember’s eyes and she squeezed them shut, and squeezed Clare tight, her arms wrapped around her frail little body. “Thank you, Clare.”

Clare gave her a motherly pat on the back, then broke away and walked back into the apartment, Peter Parker clutched tightly to her side.

Feeling a thousand years old, Ember stood and looked at Dante. A lone tear slipped down her cheek, which she didn’t bother to wipe away. They stared silently at one another until Dante finally rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Life is full of pain, but also many gifts,
hermosa.
We accept the pain because we have no choice…” His gaze grew penetrating. “Or maybe because we feel we deserve it, but we have to know how to accept the gifts, too. You have been given a great gift by this friend of yours; accept it. But you also have another gift, an even greater one, that you are taking for granted.”

He paused, staring at her, eyes misted with sorrow. Ember shook her head. He said, “Time. Don’t waste it. You never know when it’s going to run out.”

Then he turned and went into his apartment, and slowly swung shut the door.