Chapter 4: The Money They Had Already Spent
Tasha reached the entryway before Marcus could unlock his phone.
“Give me your keys,” she said.
Marcus stared at her.
“What?””
“Your car keys. We need to leave.””
“Why?””
“Because this conversation is over.””
I remained seated in the living room, watching her stand beside the suitcases she had brought into my home less than an hour earlier. Her confidence had changed. She no longer looked like a woman arriving to claim a future. She looked like someone trying to escape a question before it could be answered.
Marcus didn't hand her his keys.
Instead, he looked at the phone in his palm again.
The screen had gone dark, but I had seen the notification appear before he picked it up.
PAYMENT REMINDER: YOUR FINAL EXTENSION EXPIRES TODAY.
I couldn't read the amount.
I didn't need to.
“Marcus,” I said, “what payment is due today?””
Tasha spun around.
“Nothing that concerns you.””
I met her eyes.
“Then it shouldn't be difficult for him to answer.””
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
“Mom, it's a private matter.””
“That's fair. Your finances are private. But you just told me there's something I need to know about why you came here. I'm listening.””
Tasha dropped her handbag onto the console.
“Marcus, don't.””
He looked at her.
“Don't what?””
“Don't make this worse.””
He gave a short, humorless laugh.
“You think I'm making it worse?””
She stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“We agreed we weren't going to talk about this until we had somewhere stable to stay.””
I heard every word.
Marcus looked toward me, and the shame on his face told me more than the message had.
“Somewhere stable?”” I repeated.
Tasha closed her eyes briefly.
“Please stop twisting my words.””
“I haven't twisted anything. You've both made it clear that you expected to move into my house. Now you're telling me there was another reason you needed to come here today.””
Marcus sank onto the arm of the sofa.
His phone vibrated again.
This time, he answered.
“Hello?””
He listened without speaking.
Then his shoulders tightened.
“I told you I'd make the payment.””
Another pause.
“No, I'm not ignoring you.””
He looked at Tasha.
“I'm handling it.””
The person on the other end continued speaking.
Marcus stood and walked toward the window.
“I said I would call you back.””
He ended the call and gripped the phone so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
I waited.
Finally, he turned toward me.
“We're behind on the apartment,” he said.
“How far behind?””
“Three months.””
Tasha made a frustrated sound.
“Marcus!””
He continued as if he hadn't heard her.
“We made an arrangement with the landlord. If we paid part of what we owed by today, he'd give us another week to settle the rest.””
“How much is the total?””
He swallowed.
“Six thousand one hundred and fifty dollars, including the late fees.””
I let the number settle.
Three months of rent, late fees, and a desperate agreement that had reached its deadline.
I looked at the suitcases.
“Were you planning to move into my house because you were afraid of losing your apartment?””
Marcus's face crumpled slightly.
“Yes.””
Tasha crossed her arms.
“We weren't trying to take advantage of you. We needed somewhere to go.””
“Then why didn't you tell me?””
“Because we knew you'd ask questions,” she snapped.
“And those questions would have helped you make a better decision.””
She shook her head.
“You don't understand what it's like to be our age right now.””
“I understand that life is expensive. I understand that rent can become overwhelming. I understand that people make mistakes.””
I stood and approached them.
“What I don't understand is why you thought lying to me would solve any of those problems.””
Marcus lowered his phone.
“I wasn't trying to lie.””
“You told Tasha I would welcome her here. You told her this house would be yours someday. You arrived with luggage without asking me. What would you call that?””
He didn't answer.
Tasha reached for his arm.
“Baby, we don't have to stand here and let her judge us.””
He pulled his arm away.
“Stop calling it judgment every time somebody asks what happened.””
She stared at him.
He looked startled by his own words.
I had never heard Marcus speak to her that way in front of me.
For months, he had described their relationship as a partnership. He said they made decisions together, supported one another, and planned their future.
Yet here they were, and neither seemed willing to take responsibility for the choices that had brought them to my door.
“Marcus,” I said, “what did you mean when you said you had already made commitments?””
He glanced at Tasha.
She shook her head.
“Don't tell her about that.””
He turned toward her.
“Why not?””
“Because it's between us.””
“You said we needed to be honest.””
“I said we needed to be honest about the rent.””
He stared at her.
Then he looked at me.
“Tasha paid a deposit on a place.””
“What place?””
“A townhouse.””
I blinked.
“You paid a deposit on another home while you're three months behind on rent?””
“Not a full deposit,” Tasha interrupted.
“Just a reservation payment.””
“How much?””
She hesitated.
Marcus answered.
“Two thousand dollars.””
I looked from one to the other.
“Where did that money come from?””
Tasha picked up her handbag.
“That's enough.””
“No,” Marcus said.
“It's not.””
She froze.
He took a breath.
“Where did the money come from, Tasha?””
She stared at him for several seconds.
Then she said, “My savings.””
“Your savings were almost gone last month.””
“I had money set aside.””
“For what?””
“Marcus, I am not doing this in front of your mother.””
He looked exhausted.
“Then tell me privately later. But right now, I need to understand why we paid two thousand dollars toward a townhouse when we couldn't pay the rent on the apartment we're living in.””
Tasha's mouth opened, but no answer came.
I returned to my chair.
I wasn't going to participate in an argument between two adults who needed to have a conversation without using me as a referee.
But I could see that the problem was larger than a missed rent payment.
They had made a decision about their housing, their money, and their future based on an assumption about my property.
And I was beginning to suspect that Tasha had been counting on something Marcus hadn't fully understood.
“Did the townhouse owner know you were behind on rent?”” I asked.
Tasha looked at me sharply.
“That has nothing to do with this.””
“Then I assume the answer is no.””
“Why are you interrogating me?””
“Because you arrived here expecting to move into my home, and now you're telling me you have money tied up in another property. I'm trying to understand whether you're in an emergency or whether you're trying to rearrange your finances around an inheritance you haven't received.””
Marcus looked at her.
“An inheritance?””
Tasha's face changed.
“That's not what I meant.””
He stepped toward her.
“Then what did you mean?””
She shook her head.
“Marcus, I was trying to give us a future.””
“By telling me my mother's house would be ours?””
“You told me that!””
“I told you I hoped Mom would leave it to me someday. I never said she had promised it.””
“You said it was practically guaranteed!””
The words hung in the room.
Marcus stared at her.
I felt a strange sadness settle over me.
Not because Tasha had misunderstood the situation. Not because Marcus had been careless with his words.
But because both of them had treated my future as a resource they could use to repair their present.
Marcus turned toward me.
“Mom, I know how this looks.””
“Do you?””
“Yes.””
“Then tell me what you understand.””
He looked at the floor.
“I understand that I shouldn't have assumed you'd let us move in.””
“And?””
“I shouldn't have told Tasha that the house would be hers.””
“And?””
His jaw tightened.
“I should have asked you before making promises.””
I nodded slowly.
“That would have been a good beginning.””
Tasha let out a frustrated breath.
“So that's it? He's supposed to stand here and apologize while we lose everything?””
I looked at her.
“What exactly do you believe you're losing?””
“Our home!””
“You're already behind on the rent there.””
“Our future!””
“Your future doesn't belong to me.””
She recoiled as if I had slapped her.
Marcus stepped between us.
“Stop. Both of you.””
I was surprised by the firmness in his voice.
He turned to Tasha.
“We can't keep blaming Mom for a situation we created.””
She stared at him.
“Are you serious?””
“Yes.””
“You're choosing her over me?””
“No. I'm trying to stop pretending this is her fault.””
Tasha's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't cry.
Instead, she picked up the smaller travel bag and set it beside the front door.
“Fine,” she said.
“Let's go.””
Marcus didn't move.
She grabbed the handle of the nearest suitcase.
“Marcus.””
He looked at me.
I could see the question he was afraid to ask.
Would I help him?
Would I rescue him from the consequences of his choices?
Would I make everything disappear if he looked sorry enough?
I loved my son.
But love could not keep being the excuse for avoiding the truth.
“Marcus,” I said, “you can ask me for help. You cannot demand that I provide it on your terms.””
He nodded slowly.
“I know.””
“Do you want help making a plan to deal with the rent?””
“Yes.””
“Then we can discuss that.””
Tasha released the suitcase handle.
Her face had gone still.
“And what about the townhouse?”” I asked.
Neither answered.
I looked at Marcus.
“Is that payment refundable?””
He shook his head.
“Probably not.””
“How much money do you have left?””
He stared at the floor.
Then he whispered a number that made me sit forward.
Between them, they had less than six hundred dollars available.
The room went quiet.
I looked at the suitcases again.
They hadn't come to my home because they had found a better opportunity.
They had come because the life they had been building was collapsing, and Marcus had convinced himself that my house could catch everything before it hit the ground.
But there was still one question neither of them had answered.
If they had only six hundred dollars left, why had Tasha paid two thousand dollars toward a townhouse?
And when Marcus finally asked her that question, she gave an answer that made him look at her as though he were seeing a stranger.
“I didn't pay that money to the townhouse owner,” she said.
Marcus went completely still.
“Then who did you pay?””
Tasha's fingers tightened around her handbag.
May you like
She glanced at me, then back at Marcus.
And she said, “Someone who promised he could get us the house.””