Chapter 7 - HELGA DIDN’T WANT HIS MONEY.
Helga was standing in line at a grocery store when Alexander called the next morning.
She saw his name.
She let the phone ring.
The woman ahead of her had three children, a cart full of cereal, milk, frozen vegetables, and enough coupons to make the cashier look worried.
Helga studied the price display instead.
Milk had gone up again.
Everything had.
At seventy-two, she still noticed prices automatically.
Some habits survived money.
Some survived retirement.
Some survived having a successful son who repeatedly told you not to worry.
The phone stopped.
Then started again.
Helga answered.
"You're persistent."
Alexander exhaled.
"Good morning to you too."
"Is it?"
"No."
Helga placed coffee in her cart.
"Then don't lie before breakfast."
There was a pause.
"Can I come over?"
"You're thirty-five. You don't need permission."
"That sounds like yes."
"It sounds like you're thirty-five."
He arrived forty minutes later carrying the torn white envelope.
Helga opened the door, looked at it, and immediately sighed.
"If you brought that here again, I'm charging it rent."
Alexander almost smiled.
Her apartment was modest but comfortable.
Two bedrooms.
Old hardwood floors.
A kitchen that had been renovated cheaply fifteen years earlier and still had one cabinet that never closed properly.
Alexander knew every corner.
He had grown up in smaller places, but this was the home Helga had finally bought after decades of work.
No marble.
No staff.
No room nobody was allowed to use.
He put the envelope on the table.
Helga pointed at it.
"Why?"
"Because it was for you."
"I told you I didn't need it."
"That's not the same as not wanting to repay you."
Helga unpacked groceries.
"Repay me for what?"
Alexander stared.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Rent."
"Which rent?"
"Mine."
"When?"
"College."
"You worked."
"I worked part time."
"You worked badly."
He laughed.
Helga put apples into a bowl.
"Your manager called you 'the most distracted waiter in New York.'"
"He was right."
"He was."
Alexander watched her.
Then his expression softened.
"You paid the difference."
"You were my son."
"Groceries."
"You ate like a horse."
"Car repairs."
"That car was a public safety issue."
"Tuition when my aid fell short."
Helga stopped moving.
Alexander continued.
"The security deposit on my first apartment."
"You paid me back."
"Three years later."
"You paid."
"Not all of it."
Helga looked at him.
"Alexander."
"No."
He pulled out a chair.
"You didn't keep records because you weren't making loans. I know that."
"Good."
"But I kept records."
She frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I knew what it cost you."
Helga looked away.
He had not told her that before.
Alexander placed one hand on the envelope.
"This isn't guilt."
"Some of it is."
"Maybe."
"Most of it."
"Maybe."
Helga sat across from him.
Alexander pushed the envelope toward her.
She pushed it back.
He stopped.
"This is going to become ridiculous."
"It became ridiculous when grown adults fought over it on a rug."
"Mom."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
She looked at the envelope.
"The money isn't what I needed from you."
Alexander's eyes dropped.
"I know."
"No."
She leaned back.
"You're beginning to know."
He looked at her.
Helga studied his face.
He hadn't slept much.
She could tell.
"When Bianca sent me around the side entrance," she said, "I told you."
Alexander nodded.
"You said she didn't mean anything by it."
"I remember."
"When she handed me a towel after somebody spilled wine at your Christmas party, I told you."
His brow furrowed.
"What?"
Helga gave a small smile.
"You don't remember that one."
"No."
"I do."
"What happened?"
"Someone spilled red wine."
"Who?"
"Does it matter?"
"No."
"Bianca looked at me and said, 'Helga, you're better at this than anybody.'"
Alexander's face went still.
"Did she ask anyone else?"
"No."
"Did you clean it?"
"Of course."
"Why?"
Helga shrugged.
"Because red wine was sinking into an expensive rug and apparently I was the only person in the room who understood gravity."
Alexander did not smile.
Helga's expression softened.
"That's the problem with small humiliations."
He waited.
"If you refuse, you look sensitive. If you comply, everybody gets to pretend nothing happened."
Alexander rubbed his eyes.
"What else?"
Helga looked at him.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The list."
"I need to know."
"No. You need to understand."
"How can I if you won't tell me?"
"By believing the first three things without demanding twenty-seven more."
That shut him up.
Helga stood and poured coffee.
She gave him a mug.
Alexander held it but didn't drink.
"Bianca told me to listen to the rest of the recording."
Helga paused.
"What rest?"
"She said you said something about her before she came into the room."
Helga frowned.
Then she understood.
"Ah."
Alexander waited.
"Is there something?"
"Yes."
"What?"
Helga took her coffee to the table.
"I said I didn't trust her judgment around money."
Alexander's eyebrows rose.
"That's it?"
"That's not nothing."
"Why did you say it?"
"Because you asked me whether I thought giving Ewald money was a good idea."
Alexander stared.
"When?"
"Before Bianca came back into the room."
"I don't remember asking you."
"You'd had two glasses of wine."
"One."
"Then you're cheaper than I thought."
Despite everything, he laughed.
Helga smiled faintly.
Then Alexander became serious.
"Did you say you didn't want me with her?"
"No."
"Did you say she was using me?"
"No."
"Did you tell me to leave her?"
"No."
"Did you say anything close?"
Helga shook her head.
"I said, 'Don't give money you don't understand to solve a problem nobody will explain.'"
Alexander looked down.
That sounded exactly like her.
Helga reached into her purse.
She placed the recorder on the table.
"Take it."
Alexander looked at it.
"No."
"You want the full conversation."
"I believe you."
"Good."
She slid it closer.
"Listen anyway."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"Because believing me shouldn't require me to be perfect."
Alexander looked at his mother.
That sentence stayed between them.
Helga continued.
"I don't like Bianca."
He flinched slightly.
"I haven't for a while."
"Okay."
"I think she cares too much about status."
"Okay."
"I think she confuses expensive with respectable."
"Okay."
"And sometimes I have been rude about it."
Alexander nodded slowly.
"Okay."
Helga smiled.
"Stop saying okay like a therapist."
He laughed once.
Then she looked at him seriously.
"None of that makes what she said last night less ugly."
"I know."
"Good."
Alexander touched the recorder.
Helga watched him.
Then she said something he wasn't prepared for.
"The money was not the worst thing Bianca took from me."
He looked up.
"What was?"
May you like
Helga's face became very still.
"You."
