Scott Nicholson - Curtains

When Sil came home from work, he found Karen sitting in the study, staring at the word processor. The screen was full, and her face was orange in its glow. "What are you doing in here?" he asked.

"Oh, just messing around."

"Working on something?"

"I figured since everybody else was playing 'writer,' I might as well try my hand at it. Put myself in your shoes, to coin another cliche. Walk a mile in your gloves. But it's a lot harder than I thought. I believe I'd better take Faulkner's advice and kill my darlings."

She was reaching out to press the "delete" button when Sil caught her wrist. "Don't I get to read it first?"

"Well, if you really want to. But promise not to make fun of me."

"After some of the garbage I've written?"

Karen got up and let Sil take the chair. She said, "At least one good thing came out of this. Now I understand how you get so caught up in this stuff. You writers are nuts."

"That's we writers, dear." Sil laughed. He loved her. He began reading.

I was wiping down the bar with an old shirt rag when he came in. The man in the yellow slicker. I saw him without looking up…

“Have them live here? No way,” Richard said shaking his head.

The request wasn’t exactly a revelation. The writing had been on the wall for at least a year. The intervals between tear-sodden appeals for cash had become shorter and shorter, and the sums had gotten larger and larger. At first, it was the odd fifty or sixty bucks now and then. But recently, it was a regular three hundred every month. Michelle’s parents promised to pay it back and Michelle covered for them. But he wasn’t a fool. Ted and Eleanor weren’t generating the kind of income to pay back their loans. They lived in a financial minefield of their own creation and this time they’d stepped on all the mines at once-taking out more than just themselves.

It was so unfair. After five years of marriage, he and Michelle had just gotten themselves straight. The mortgage payments were manageable at last. The credit cards and student loans were paid off. The new Honda had been bought with cash. They’d limped along for years with the old Corolla while they’d saved because they didn’t want another loan on their credit report. All this had been achieved through careful money management and sacrifice. He was so proud. They’d come so far. They were just starting to live the life they’d promised themselves when they got engaged.

That was what made his in-laws’ screw-ups so much more galling. Twice Richard’s age, Ted and Eleanor treated money with the mentality of teenagers. Only a couple of years from retirement, they had nothing to show for their lives. Their crummy, two-bedroom hovel was rented. The car was leased. Pensions and life insurance had been cashed in years ago. Retirement wasn’t an option for either of them. They would have to work until they died.

Damn the American dream, Richard thought. That was the cause of Ted and Eleanor’s monetary nightmares. They had to show everyone they were keeping up with the Joneses. They’d spent a lifetime trying to project the superficial image that they were at top of their game, except their lifestyle was built on credit.

He was thankful Ted and Eleanor hadn’t passed on their trait to Michelle, although there had been problems when they’d gotten married. She’d run up a string of college loans because her parents were unable to support her. Only that January had he and Michelle cleared the last of her college debts. But the nail in her credit report’s coffin was the credit card she’d underwritten for her parents when no self-respecting bank would issue them one. They’d maxed it out in months, with the promise they would pay it off. They never had.

“They are going to be evicted in two weeks. Do you want them to live on the streets?” Michelle demanded, close to tears.

“They’re adults. It’s not my problem, is it?”

“Richard!”

He snorted, getting up from the kitchen table. It wasn’t like she disagreed with him. She hated what her parents had put her through. But none of that counted when parental guilt was in full effect. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

“You really want them to live here?”

“We don’t have a choice. Why don’t you want them here?”

“Because this is our home-yours and mine-and no one else’s. They may be your parents but they’re still strangers to me. I would never feel comfortable with them here. I would feel like I would have to be on my best behavior. I would never be myself.” He sighed. “You realize that our sex life would be over.”

Michelle frowned. “Oh, Richard.”

“It would be, you know. I couldn’t make love with them in the next room.”

“Is that all you’re worried about?”

“No, it isn’t. It’s just one thing. I don’t want to be paying for a home that your parents will be getting more out of than I will.”

“Don’t you mean we? The house we’re paying for… My parents getting more out of it than we will…”

Richard snorted again. “See? They’re not even here and they’re making our life a misery.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

“Tell your dad to get off his butt and get a job.” Richard couldn’t believe how old that comment made him sound.

“He’s got a job.”

“Oh yeah, it’s a doozie.”

Michelle’s dad hadn’t worked for years since he was “laid off.” He’d actually been canned for some stunt that never made the light of day. Ever since, he’d sunk thousands into late night TV get-rich schemes that had only gone to make someone else rich. Richard shuddered to think what the latest flash in the pan was.

“I bet you’d be singing a different tune if this was your parents. They don’t have jobs."

“Don’t go there.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “It’s not an issue, is it? My parents are retired now. They have good pensions. Money isn’t a problem for them.”

“What if their pensions dried up?”

“They wouldn’t.” Richard paused. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Okay, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t want them living with us.” Razor-edge bitterness barbed Michelle’s words. “We have other options.”

“Like what?”

“We can pay their rent?”

“What?” Richard was incredulous. “And pay their back rent, I suppose?”

“Obviously.”

“Well, you can think again.”

“Okay, we buy a second home.”

Richard was laughing. “No way.”

“It’ll be an investment.”

Some investment, he thought. His in-laws wouldn’t treat their investment with any respect. Besides being a liability with money, they lived like slobs. Every house they’d rented ended up looking like a war zone. They never once had a security deposit returned by a landlord.

“And how do you suggest we finance this twilight home for your parents?” he asked.

“We can use the equity we’ve built in this home and take out a second mortgage.”

“A second mortgage! Are you crazy? We’ve slogged our guts to get rid of that second mortgage and you want to put us back into that hole? I’m sorry, no.”

“Richard, my parents will be on streets unless we come through for them.” Michelle started sobbing.

Richard plopped down in the chair next to Michelle and slipped an arm around her shoulders. He squeezed her to him. “Let me take a look at the situation and work through the figures.”

Michelle threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Richard. I love you so much. I knew you’d make it work.”

Richard spent the rest of the evening with a legal pad and calculator working through the various Ted and Eleanor rescue packages. Letting them move in was the cheapest option. He could see it was going to cost them a few hundred a month. Underwriting their rent was pricey. He was looking at dropping at least a grand a month to keep them housed. Buying a second home was the option he liked most, because there was some return on their sacrifice. But it would stretch their finances to the limit. They could say goodbye to the Hawaiian vacation they’d promised each other. In fact, they could kiss goodbye any luxuries for the next decade. Michelle wandered into the kitchen.