“But it’s an apartment building.”
“But it was a house before that.”
Martin and Mrs. Foster were staring at her so intently that Lorna almost confessed her scheme.
“What kind is this one, Martin?” Bean asked. He was holding up another rock, clearly oblivious to the adult conversation.
“Metamorphic,” Martin answered. “Sure, it was a house,” he continued to Lorna, “back when there were horses and buggies. But now it’s four separate apartments, and it would take a lot of money to put it back together. No one is going to do that. Because no one could afford a house this size in the middle of Austin. The property taxes alone would be more than some people pay for an entire house. Which is why it’s been split into apartments. But it should be affordable apartments, because this ain’t the Ritz.”
“No, it is not,” Mrs. Foster agreed. “He still hasn’t fixed the leak in my bathroom.”
Lorna made a mental note to complain about the leak in that bathroom to Mr. Contreras. This house had enough problems without adding mold to the list.
“But I understand where you’re coming from,” Mrs. Foster said.
“You do?” Lorna asked, surprised.
“Sure!” Mrs. Foster continued. “It clearly needs some work, but it’s a beautiful old house. Unfortunately, I think that time has passed. Martin’s right—it would be cost prohibitive to make this into a family home again. I think we should at least talk about working together to stop such a sharp rent increase.”
Lorna didn’t know what to say. Her headache squeezed like a vise, and she rubbed at one temple. She understood what they were saying. She felt bad for her neighbors—no one liked to be priced out of their home. And yet, as inexplicable as it was to anyone but her inner self, Lorna had to have this house. They would never understand that it was almost a matter of life and death to her. Metaphorically speaking, anyway. She had this crazy notion that she would have the normal life she craved if only she had this house. All she had to do was go back to the way life was and redo the last thirty years.
She looked at her dog, who was now nosing around the rocks, knocking over the piles that Bean was busily putting up again. “Aggie!” he admonished her, then followed that up by petting her as he reset his piles.
“Maybe we should wait until Seth is available later this afternoon so we can all come to some agreement,” Mrs. Foster said.
“My dad and I are going to Ranger Explorers tonight,” Bean said. “I’m getting a new badge for LEGOs. I have a whole box of badges.”
“Sometime this week?” Martin asked, shifting his gaze between Lorna and Mrs. Foster.
“Ah...” Lorna tried to think a way out of this. “I’d like to call Mr. Contreras and talk to him first.”
“Oh, would you?” Mrs. Foster asked, and let out a breath. “That would be so helpful. Could you do that today or tomorrow? Then we can talk about what you learned and decide how to proceed. Is there anything you need from us before you talk to him?”
“Umm... no, I don’t think so.” Lorna rubbed her temple again. She could now add queasiness to her headache. She was going to call Mr. Contreras, but not about the rent hike. “I should run,” she said, pointing to her door. “Agnes, are you coming?”
“She likes Aggie better,” Bean said. “I did an experiment.”
Agnes began to wag her stub of a tail.
Lorna sighed. “Okay.” She was fighting a war on too many fronts. “Come on, Aggie.”
Her traitorous dog reluctantly followed her.
“Bye, Aggie! Bye, Lorna! Martin, look atthisrock!” Bean said, and he and Martin and Mrs. Foster turned back to rock gazing.
Once inside, Lorna made sure Agnes had water, then went directly to her mail. She flipped through the flyers for window replacements, bath resurfacing, and cell phone deals until she found the letter from Mr. Contreras. She ripped it open and read it. Effective in three months’ time, rent would go up two hundred and fifty dollars.Like hell it will. She tossed the letter down and picked up her phone.
Mr. Contreras answered on the third ring with a gruff “Yo.”
“Mr. Contreras? It’s Lorna Lott at—”
“I know who you are. What’s up?”
“It’s about the rent increase,” she said crisply.
“I figured. What about it?” He made a sound like he was puffing on a cigar. “Too rich for your blood?”
She bristled. “Well, it is a lot of money. Practically robbery when you get a load of the place.”
