The Failed Real Estate Caper
By Sue Katz
The first thing Miriam noticed when the taxi dropped her off at Ruby’s house was the For Sale sign on the lawn. She took a magic marker out of her handbag and wrote “NOT” in capital letters, but it turned out too faint to be easily seen. “It’s the thought that counts,” she muttered with no small measure of anger.
Ruby had fallen and broken her elbow. That can happen. But Ruby’s son Lionel was trying to take advantage of the situation by insisting that Ruby move into assisted living while he sold her house out from under her. Despite his charm, Lionel seemed determined to crush Ruby at every turn. Her wealth was entirely tied up in her home—he called her “house poor”—and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on it.
Miriam let herself in by the front door, which Ruby had unlocked for her earlier. She found Ruby slumped in a living room chair. Ruby gestured with her head towards the bedroom, and Miriam went directly there. She found Lionel packing a suitcase. On the floor were a trunk and two large cardboard boxes. Clearly he had been hard at work. He looked up and, when he saw her, he bestowed the kind of flirtatious smile handsome men use to smooth their way through life, but it didn’t work on Miriam.
“Ruby doesn’t want to sell. She doesn’t want to move. And I’m wondering why you are forcing the matter, Lionel.”
“I think I know what’s best for my mother,” he answered without changing that smile.
“I think Ruby knows what’s best for Ruby,” Miriam said.
“With all due respect, this is a family matter.”
“With all due respect,” Miriam said, “it all depends on how you define family. Ruby and I have been close for over 65 years—a couple decades longer than you’ve known her.”
“As far as we’re concerned, you’re a nice lady, a good pal to my mother, and you’ve got zero to say about this situation. If you want to bring some soup around or send a card, feel free. As for this house, I’m going to sell it, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He returned to stuffing Ruby’s things into the suitcase.
Ruby had quietly come to stand behind Miriam for this exchange. “Sorry, Lionel. It’s not your house to sell,” she said.
“You can’t take care of yourself with that dodgy arm, Mum, let alone this whole house. And you can’t really afford to bring in full-time help on your Social Security. I’d hate to have to force you through the courts.”
“The courts?” Miriam cried.
“Yes, if she’s making irrational decisions and putting herself in danger, there are things a son can do about that.”
The two women looked at each other. They made every effort to look somber, but they couldn’t control themselves. Miriam giggled while Ruby laughed out loud.
“What’s going on?” Lionel asked.
Ruby calmed herself enough to say, “I believe a wife trumps a son, dear.”
Lionel looked concerned. “Mum, you’re not making sense.”
“Tell him, Miriam.”
“Your mother and I got married a few months ago. We worried what you or the authorities might try to do to us someday. We’re old women each living alone, solitary, low hanging fruit, as they say. We figured we’re like an old couple who have been together a very long time anyway, so we decided to make it official.”
“Didn’t you notice my ring, honey?” Ruby waved her wrinkled hand in Lionel’s direction.
“Or mine?” Miriam said, showing off her identical gold band.
“And don’t worry,” Ruby said. “Miriam will be living here for as long as I need her. We’ll be just fine.”
She looked at Miriam. “Could you possibly take down that nasty sign in my yard?”
“Yes, and I’ll call the agent to cancel, as well. Shall I say I’m a member of your family?”
“Sure. Tell them you’re my spouse.”
The two women giggled and left the doorway of the bedroom, chatting happily. “Put everything back nicely, will you Lionel?” Ruby said over her shoulder.
His fading smile curled with anger, robbing him of his beauty, but his scowl formed too late for the women to notice.
Sue Katz’s business card identifies her as a “Wordsmith and Rebel.” Her journalism and fiction have been published in anthologies, magazines, and online on the three continents where she has lived, worked, and roused rabble. Her writing has appeared in such publications as Gertrude Press, Writers Resist, Brilliant Flash Fiction, and the Boston Globe newspaper. Her fiction books, often focusing on the lives of elders, include A Raisin in My Cleavage: short and shorter stories, Lillian’s Last Affair and other stories, and Lillian in Love. Katz’s first play was produced by the prestigious The Theater Offensive in honor of Stonewall 50.
Photograph by Alan Levine via a Creative Commons license.
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Sue Katz’s business card identifies her as a “Wordsmith and Rebel.” Her writing has been published on the three continents where she has lived, worked, and roused rabble. She has been a martial arts master, promoted transnational volunteering, and partner danced more than her feet could bear. Her journalism and stories have been published for decades in anthologies, magazines, and online. Her fiction, often focusing on the lives of elders, include A Raisin in My Cleavage: short and shorter stories, Lillian’s Last Affair and other stories, and Lillian in Love.