Chapter 12 - “I’M HANDLING IT.”
Bianca was waiting in the kitchen when Alexander returned.
She had changed into jeans and a gray sweater.
No heels.
No jewelry except a watch.
The house looked different in daylight.
Less theatrical.
The rug had been cleaned of every stray bill.
The flowerpot still sat where Helga had hidden the recorder.
Alexander noticed that immediately.
Bianca noticed him noticing.
"Did you see Ewald?"
"Yes."
"How is he?"
"Embarrassed."
"Good."
Alexander put his keys on the counter.
Bianca studied him.
"Did he show you messages?"
"Yes."
Her expression changed.
Not much.
Enough.
Alexander sat.
"Tuesday."
Bianca remained standing.
"What about Tuesday?"
"'Helga is becoming a problem. I'm handling it.'"
Bianca closed her eyes.
"Of course he showed you that."
"What did it mean?"
"Exactly what it says."
"That's not an explanation."
She folded her arms.
"I was handling the conflict."
"By questioning my mother about my money?"
"Yes."
"Without telling me."
"Because every time I brought it up with you, you avoided it."
Alexander nodded.
"That's true."
Bianca blinked.
She had expected resistance.
He continued.
"I avoid conflict."
She relaxed slightly.
"I delay decisions."
"Yes."
"I say we'll talk when I mean I don't want to talk."
"Yes."
"I let silence do work it shouldn't."
Bianca's shoulders lowered.
Alexander continued.
"And none of that gave you permission to make the decision."
Her face tightened again.
"I know."
"No."
He leaned forward.
"I need you to actually understand that."
"I said I know."
"You told your father I'd agreed."
"I was trying to get him off my back."
"You told him cash would be here."
"I knew you had withdrawn it."
"You told him not to ask me."
Bianca looked away.
"Because you'd get uncomfortable."
"Because I would say no."
She stared.
Alexander finally said it.
"No."
The word sat between them.
Bianca's face changed.
He repeated it.
"No, I am not giving Ewald that envelope."
"I understand."
"No, I am not treating every discussion about his finances as an obligation."
"Fine."
"No, you do not speak for me about money."
Her eyes flashed.
"Fine."
"And no, my mother's history as a cleaner will never again be used as an insult in this house."
Bianca looked at him.
"Do you think I don't know how bad that was?"
"I think you know how bad it sounded."
Her jaw tightened.
"What's the difference?"
"One is embarrassment."
He paused.
"The other is understanding why it was wrong."
Bianca stared at the counter.
Alexander watched her.
"When did you first know Mom cleaned Ewald's house?"
"Years ago."
"From him?"
"From her."
That surprised him.
"When?"
"The first Christmas we spent together."
Alexander frowned.
"She told you?"
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
Bianca sighed.
"She made a joke about knowing where he kept the good silver before I did."
That sounded like Helga.
Alexander almost smiled.
Bianca continued.
"Everybody laughed."
"So?"
"So I felt stupid."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"Because she had history with my family I didn't have."
Alexander stared.
Bianca shook her head.
"I know how that sounds."
"Tell me anyway."
She took a breath.
"Your mother walks into every room like she doesn't care whether people approve of her."
"She cares."
"Not like I do."
Alexander said nothing.
Bianca continued.
"She can wear an old coat and make a joke before anyone else can."
"That coat hurt her."
"I know that now."
"No. You knew then."
Bianca looked at him.
He held her gaze.
"You moved it."
She looked down.
Alexander continued.
"Why?"
Her answer was barely audible.
"I was embarrassed."
"By her?"
"By what people would think."
"Which is?"
"That she didn't belong."
Alexander felt anger rise.
Bianca lifted a hand.
"I know."
"No. Say it."
She looked at him.
"What?"
"Say what you were afraid people would think."
Bianca's eyes filled.
"That your mother looked like someone who used to clean houses."
Alexander stared.
The sentence was quiet.
It was worse that way.
Bianca wiped beneath one eye.
"And I hated that I cared."
Alexander's anger did not disappear.
But the conflict became clearer.
Bianca was not merely performing cruelty for pleasure.
She had built her identity around distance from ordinary things.
Cheap coats.
Service entrances.
People who compared prices.
Work that left smells on your hands.
Helga's existence beside Alexander reminded Bianca that wealth could sit next to poverty without erasing where anybody came from.
Bianca had tried to erase it instead.
Alexander leaned back.
"Why?"
She laughed bitterly.
"Because people judge."
"So you judged first."
Bianca looked away.
"Probably."
Alexander thought of Helga admitting the same thing.
Two women.
Both judgmental.
Only one had used the other's labor to humiliate her.
That distinction mattered.
"What's going to happen to us?" Bianca asked.
Alexander looked at her.
"I don't know."
She closed her eyes.
"But I'm not deciding today."
"Of course."
"That's not avoidance."
She looked at him.
"I'm telling you the decision isn't ready."
Bianca nodded slowly.
Alexander continued.
"But something changes today."
"What?"
"If Ewald needs help, he speaks to me."
"Fine."
"If you have concerns about Mom, you speak to me."
"Fine."
"If Mom has concerns about you, she speaks to me."
Bianca gave a tired laugh.
"So you get to be the center of everybody's complaints."
"No."
Alexander shook his head.
"Better."
He looked directly at her.
"You two speak to each other."
Bianca's eyebrows rose.
"Absolutely not."
For the first time in two days, Alexander smiled.
"Then avoid each other."
She almost smiled too.
It disappeared quickly.
"What about the recorder?"
"Mom has it."
"Will she share it?"
"I don't know."
Bianca's face tightened.
"I don't want my worst sentence passed around like entertainment."
Alexander studied her.
"Good."
"What does that mean?"
"It means now you understand what Mom didn't want."
Bianca stared.
Alexander stood.
He picked up the envelope.
"I'm taking this to her."
Bianca's expression hardened.
"Of course."
He stopped.
"No."
She looked at him.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Make this about you losing."
Her eyes flashed.
"It feels like losing."
"Then ask yourself why my mother receiving money I owe her feels like something being taken from you."
Bianca said nothing.
Alexander walked toward the door.
Behind him she spoke.
"My father told me something about that money."
Alexander stopped.
He turned.
Bianca's face had changed again.
"What?"
"Before I ever saw the withdrawal receipt."
Alexander frowned.
"When?"
"A week ago."
"What did he tell you?"
Bianca hesitated.
Then shook her head.
"It doesn't matter."
Alexander stared.
"Apparently it mattered enough for you to rip it out of my mother's hands."
May you like
Bianca looked away.
And for the first time, Alexander wondered whether Ewald's version of the money story was incomplete too.
