out?
Calm down, I told myself. The coffee was brewing and smelled warm and toasty. And I was hungry. What difference would it make if I ate a doughnut. I could exercise away the calories. On my stairMaster. Besides, doughnuts were a basic food group, weren’t they? Like gnocchi. Again, without wanting to, I thought of Nick. How his hand had felt on mine. Oh, the hell with Nick. I bit into chocolate icing and, in a few bites, devoured the whole doughnut. Then, unable to contain myself, I burst into their happy conversation.
“Molly,” I told her, “Uncle Mike and I have to talk.” she was unimpressed. “I’m not done with my doughnut,” she said.
“Molly,” I handed her a napkin, “go watch television. Please.” scowling, she gulped the last of her milk and took off. “What’s going on, Michael?” “she’s a nice kid, Zoe.” “Cut the crap.”
“I stopped by to see you. To catch up. And find out if you’d decided to give back my nana’s ring. Christmas is getting close—”
“Dammit, Michael. You’ve got balls—”
“As I recall, you once liked my balls—”
“I have a life here. You can’t harass me like this, dropping in at all hours as if you’re some long-lost relative—”
“But that’s what I am. A lost relative. A relative who lost everything—even the coffee grinder.”
“You can’t keep doing this, Michael. Every few months, you want something else. The bonds. The silver. The sofa. Now my ring. I guess you’ll want the coffee grinder, too, right? Enough. The divorce is over, and you agreed to the settlement—”
“And that’s my point. I agreed. I made everything easy for you. Now, I’m asking you for something, and so far I’m asking nicely—”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. I’ve asked you nicely for property that should have been mine to begin with. The only reason my nana wanted you to have that ring was because you were my wife—”
“Enough is enough, Michael. The ring’s been mine for years. For decades.”
“Yours? How can you say that?” His eyes bulged.
“How can you ask that? You gave it to me yourself.”
“Because you were my fiancee. My wife.”
“That’s right.”
“But you aren’t now.”
“Amazing. You do grasp the situation.”
“Why do you want it? You don’t wear it.”
“Not now. I might someday, though, if I have it reset.”
“You wouldn’t—that setting’s antique. It’s exquisite—look. What if I buy it from you? How much?”
Why was I being so stubborn? The ring meant more to him than to me. Much more. But I had to draw the line somewhere. If I wanted him to back off and stop wangling, I’d have to be firm. “Michael. You have to go. I have to get dressed.”
He stood still, fuming. Refusing to leave, “Dammit, Zoe,” he growled. “I’ve been civil. I even brought you fucking doughnuts. That’s it. I’m done with the nice guy bit.”
Was that a threat? From Michael? I heard Charlie whisper, “Trust nobody. Evil is all around.” But surely he didn’t mean Michael. Michael was selfish, superficial, egotistical, two-faced, immature, and asinine, but he wasn’t evil. Was he?
“I thought you’d do this one little thing for me, for old times’ sake. We had some good times, didn’t we?”
Did we? What was he talking about? As usual, Michael and I were on different planets. I closed my eyes, saw Charlie gesturing from his car, Tamara’s hands reaching for help, a finger lying in the street.
When I didn’t answer, he stuck out his lower lip, a protrusion of wet flesh under a wad of wiry hair. Michael was pouting.
“Please, Zoe?” He made his little-boy face. A mistake. It didn’t work with the mustache.
“I told you I’d think about it, and I will. I promise. G’bye, Michael.” I moved toward the door, telling myself not to feel guilty.
“When, exactly?”
“I don’t know. When I get a chance.” When hell freezes over. “soon.”
“Nothing’s on TV, Mommy.” Molly was back. Probably she’d never left. Probably she’d been listening in the hall.
“Uncle Mike has to go,” I said. “He’s just saying good-bye.”
She stared at him, her fingers in her mouth. “Are you really my uncle?”
Michael said, “sure,” and I said, “No,” at the same time. Our eyes met, sparkling with animosity.
“I want it by Christmas, Zoe,” Michael’s tone had become nasty. “I’ve promised it to Margaret, and she’ll get it. One way or another.”
How dare he bully me? Or promise her my ring before I’d agreed to return it? I went to the door and opened it.
“G’bye, Michael.” I held the door for him, just as I