somehow it was still a surprise to see him take it all with him.
He’d taken all of the framed pictures from the walls, the big TV, the dresser, the desk, the big couch, and most of the stuff in the kitchen. He’d left her the bed to be nice, and so Claire had insisted he take the duvet and pillows, which he had (except for one pillow), and now the bed looked like it belonged in an insane asylum, stripped down except for white sheets and an old knitted afghan that Claire had stolen from home years ago.
The only things left in the main room of the apartment were an old loveseat, a side table, a small TV, and a lawn chair that she’d found in the closet after Doug left. There were a few things in the kitchen, enough to get by, anyway—a couple of plates, a bowl, some silverware, a pot, and a skillet. She knew Doug had felt bad for leaving her with so few things, and he kept offering to leave more, but she insisted he take his stuff. “It’s yours,” she kept saying. “You should take it, it’s all yours.”
Doug probably assumed that Claire had waited a few days and then gone out to replace what was missing, that she’d moved things around, hung new pictures, or at least covered the holes that were left. But she hadn’t done a thing. And now the whole place was practically empty, like she was in the middle of moving in or out, like the whole situation was just temporary.
That night, she and Lainie decided to just stay in and order food and when the deliveryman came, Claire realized that she wouldn’t be able to charge it to her card. She hadn’t paid the bill and there wasn’t enough credit left.
“Oh shit,” she said. “I forgot, there was some security thing with my bank and they canceled all my cards. I was supposed to get new ones, but they haven’t come yet.”
“That’s okay,” Lainie said. “I got it.”
“Thanks,” Claire said. Her heart was pounding with the lie, but Lainie didn’t seem to notice anything.
AFTER THEY ATE AND DRANK WINE and went to bed, Claire lay on her back for a long time and stared at the ceiling. Her room never got all that dark, since the light of the city came in through the blinds and she’d never taken the time to get curtains or a shade to block it out. This never bothered Claire, because when she woke up, she could always see everything in the room and never had to turn on a light to go to the bathroom, never tripped over a pair of shoes or walked into a wall.
“I have no money left,” she said. She wasn’t sure if Lainie was awake or asleep, and she figured that was her gamble, that she could just say it out loud and if Lainie heard, then she’d have to deal with it.
But then she saw the pillow move, and then Lainie was squinting at her. “What?”
Claire considered lying for a minute, or telling her that she was just exaggerating. But then it seemed too hard, and Lainie always knew when she was lying anyway. “I have no money left,” Claire said again. “I’m broke. And I don’t mean, I’m broke, like I normally mean it. I mean that I’ve spent all of my savings and have been living on my credit cards for months and now there’s no more room left on them, and I don’t think I can pay rent this month. Not after I pay the minimum on the cards, and I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Oh shit.” Lainie was sitting up now.
“Yeah.”
“Can you borrow some money from your parents?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’m going to have to. But I don’t know what good that’ll do. Even if I get through this month, I’m going to have the same problem again next month.”
“Well, you need to move.” Lainie sounded firm, like moving would solve everything.
“I know, I know. I know I need to. I just put it off for so long because I didn’t want to live somewhere shitty, and it costs so much to move—to pay the movers and put down the deposit and all of that. At this point, I’d have to borrow ten thousand dollars from my parents to move and that probably wouldn’t even be enough. And I’d end up in some dungeon in Brooklyn.”
Claire felt